‘Oliver,’ Maeve said quickly, with a worried glance at James, ‘I’m glad you’ve found someone. You two seem well-suited.’
‘I’m lucky I got the chance to snap him up,’ Eavie said. ‘You lot are mad for not doing it sooner.’
Paige looked like she wanted a strong drink. ‘Let’s wrap,’ she said curtly. ‘Bedtime.’
As they walked towards the villa, Eavie slipped her hand into Oliver’s. ‘I hope it’s not always this dramatic,’ she said. ‘I wanted to get some alone time with you.’
‘Me too,’ he lied. He had seen potential with Eavie only yesterday, but he couldn’t manage to reconjure that feeling amongst everything else in his head.
As he crawled into bed with her, he couldn’t stop thinking about the night before. When she mumbled ‘Good night,’ he thought of the quiet words he and Declan had exchanged on the daybed, and how the way Declan had looked at him had made his whole body feel electric.
Oliver had avoided even thinking the words in the daylight, but at night, he was able to finally admit it to himself: Declan had been about to kiss him. There was no other explanation for what had happened between them the night before. And the strangest part: Oliver had been about to let him.
He waited for panic to set in, but it didn’t come. He’d been about to kiss a man, but it somehow didn’t feel as life-altering as it should have. Instead, the scene played over and over in Oliver’s head, now steeped in a profound confusion. In the moments after Declan had punched James, Oliver had rewritten the night before, assuming he had misinterpreted something.
But maybe he hadn’t – hearing James’s explanation of his history with Declan, he had to wonder if it was all part of some twisted game. He’d thought he had learned to distinguish the real Declan from the performance, but his anger when his fist connected with James’s jaw? That hadn’t been rehearsed; it was probably the first act he knew to be fully Declan’s – and it terrified him, how foreign Declan seemed to him now.
When Oliver woke the next morning, he was sure he had overreacted. Trying to be rational, he formulated a plan: before assuming anything, he would talk to Declan.
The first problem presented itself when he walked out to the kitchen and didn’t see him swimming laps. Instead, he found Paige sitting at the counter with two mugs in front of her.
‘All right?’ Oliver asked.
‘Yeah, fine,’ she said, not sounding it. She seemed to realise who she was talking to, straightening suddenly. ‘You’re looking for Declan?’
He tried to sound casual, though he felt like he might go mad if he didn’t talk to Declan before the cameras arrived. ‘Er, yeah. He always takes a swim about now, but…’ He gestured towards the empty pool.
Paige took a sip of tea. ‘I just talked to him. He’s taking a shower – I gave him licence to use all the hot water, as an apology of sorts.’
Oliver tried to hide his disappointment. ‘Gee, I’m sure everyone else will be pleased.’
‘How’s things with Eavie?’ she asked, ignoring him.
‘Good. I think there’s a lot of potential there,’ he said, feeling self-conscious in a way he hadn’t for several weeks. He felt as though he was trying to convince Paige of something, reciting lines the way she’d once accused him of.
She looked at him sideways, and Oliver wasn’t sure he’d sold it. ‘Good. We brought her on for you. I know you like dancers,’ she said.
Oliver blinked at her. ‘It’s creepy when you say stuff like that, just so you know.’
‘Be nice to me,’ Paige said, finishing her tea. ‘I’m going to give you a date today.’
‘Fine, you’re not a stalker,’ he said drily. ‘Happy?’
Oliver kept an eye out for Declan as he started on breakfast and the other contestants slowly trickled out of the villa. When Eavie joined Oliver in the kitchen, he hardly noticed. As more and more of the crew arrived, the tension in his chest grew. He knew it would be impossible for him to say what he needed to in front of the cameras.
When Declan finally exited the villa, hair wet and skin glistening, Oliver abandoned his post at the stove, handing his spatula over to Eavie. He rounded the counter and took off after Declan, who stopped a few feet away from the pool, looking into its depths.
‘All right?’ Oliver asked.
Declan let out a weary sigh. ‘I don’t want to do this with you right now.’ He didn’t sound angry, but his tone wasn’t reassuring either.
Oliver felt a flicker of annoyance. Things had irreversibly shifted for him in the last two days, and he no longer knew if Declan cared at all. ‘Dowhatwith me right now? You can’t talk to me?’
Declan shook his head. It would have been difficult to sustain anger for someone who looked so miserable under different circumstances.
‘Fine,’ Oliver said tightly. ‘Come and find me when you’re ready to talk.’
Declan’s eyes flashed to the nearest camera, then back to the water. Oliver backed off, though he wanted to scream with frustration. As he headed towards the kitchen, determined to finish making breakfast with Eavie, Paige intercepted him.
