“Skye, I know you’re hiding in there.” Marla’s voice erred on the side of impatience, and for good reason. Skye had run away after Veronica had cornered her at the bar and hinted at the first impression rose ceremony that would take place at the end of the night. Skye had nearly blurted out that they were using a Pua Kalaunu—a Hawaiian crown flower lei traditionally reserved for royalty—instead of the traditional rose, but she’d luckily caught herself. It was supposed to be a surprise.
“I just need a minute.”
“Well, I’ll give you two,” Marla said. “But then I need your butt out here. We’re moving to the beach in five.”
“Great,” Skye muttered, running a hand down her dress. She then smoothed a flyaway hair before she gave her reflection another look in the mirror. It seemed her entire head of hair looked flyaway. Real bachelorette or not, she was stuck in this now.
“I’ll be right there,” she said, louder this time. She inhaled deeply enough to convince herself that she was composed enough to take on whatever Marla was about to throw her way and pushed open the bathroom door.
And then she walked straight into someone.
Skye let out a muffled oof as she stumbled forward and instinctively threw out her hands to catch her balance. Her palms landed on something soft but solid, something alarmingly warm. Two very definite hips. And a waist. A lovely narrow waist.
“Shit, sorry…” Skye started, eyes on the slight indent of her fingers against the buttery yellow dress. “I wasn’t …” She looked up.
Shit.
Out of all the people she could’ve bumped into, of course it had to be a contestant. The day was basically one long string of things she didn’t want, events she couldn’t control, and situations she most definitely hadn’t planned for. And now, if that wasn’t enough, she couldn’t quite remember the contestant’s name.
Claire? No, she didn’t look like a Claire.
Vanessa? Definitely not. Skye vaguely remembered linking that name to a fennec fox.
Lucy? Yes. Lucy.
She remembered now. Back when she was still assistant director, she’d associated each contestant with a specific animalto keep their names and faces straight. Lucy was a red-tailed hawk.
Lucy had caught herself with a small step back, but her hands had gone to Skye’s shoulders. Her touch was light and steadying.
Skye froze. Her fingers were still on Lucy’s waist. She should move them. Probably. Definitely. Any second now.
“That’s okay,” Lucy said, her eyes flicking down to where Skye’s hands were on her waist.
Skye felt her brain short-circuit. “I didn’t mean to grab you,” she said quickly. “I mean, I did, obviously, but not like grabbing-grabbing. That was a reflex.” Skye quickly dropped her hands from Lucy’s waist before things got even more awkward. If that was even possible.
“It’s no problem,” Lucy said, smiling. “As long as you believe me when I say I didn’t follow you to the bathroom.”
“What a weird thing to say.”
If there was a color called panic red, it would be the exact shade spreading across Lucy’s cheeks. It made her already ridiculous ocean blue eyes look somehow lighter, like the part of the sea that tricked you into thinking it was shallow before dropping you into the abyss.
Skye laughed before she could stop herself. Great. Now she was smiling. What was next? Flirting? Or worse even than that? Admitting to herself that she didn’t hate every second of this moment?
Lucy, still pink-cheeked, gave a half-laugh. “Okay, fine, that sounded a little creepy.”
“Just a tad.”
“Well, I promise I’m not creepy.” Lucy lifted her hand, her fingers held in a three-point salute. “Scout’s honor.”
“You were in the scouts?”
She dropped her hand like it had personally betrayed her. “No, I wasn’t. I don’t know why I did that.”
Skye wasn’t sure it was possible for someone to look more embarrassed. Pink bloomed across the young woman’s face. Then her face twisted into a grimace, and her hands twitched at her sides, like she couldn’t decide what to do with them.
“Relax,” Skye said, amused despite herself. “I’m only teasing. You’re quite easy to fluster.”
Lucy laughed. It was soft, almost silent, but her shoulders were shaking. “Only for you, apparently. Normally, I’m as cool as a cucumber.”
