Oliver nodded. ‘Okay.’
The two of them rejoined the group, where Zoë was now hugging Stella and whispering something in her ear.
Paige finally stepped into the scene. ‘All right, lovebirds, we have to get going.’
Oliver gave Niall, Stella and Owen each a final hug as they departed the villa. Watching them go, he found Maeve at his side.
‘Mad, isn’t it?’ she said softly. ‘Guess true love doesn’t make for good TV.’
‘Watch out,’ Oliver deadpanned. ‘If you’re right, you and Jack are next.’
She gave him a small smile. ‘Viewers seem to like you and Eavie together, though. I’ve heard it’s playing well with the audience.’ She gave a pointed glance towards Brian. ‘Little birdies.’
‘Oh,’ Oliver said, startled but gratified. ‘But who knows, maybe me and Eavie will be just as boringly happy as Niall and Stella in a week.’
‘Hmm,’ Maeve said, the corners of her lips pulling down. She gave him a final pat on the arm as Brian called that it was time for lights out. Eavie glanced at Oliver and Maeve, a question in her eyes, before turning to prepare for bed.
Oliver sat in bed, anxiously waiting for Eavie to come back from the bathroom. He’d always felt at ease with her before, but he’d been too caught up with Declan to overthink anything. Now, Declan was sitting on the next bed over, staring at the ceiling, but he felt further away from Oliver than ever.
Imogen returned from the bathroom with her hair pulled back in a plait and her face shiny with product. She exchanged soft words with Declan, and Oliver couldn’t stop himself from glancing sideways at them. They looked perfect together – Declan had stopped brooding to pull at one of her braids playfully. That was the difference between him and Declan: through either years of practice or natural instinct, Declan always seemed unaffected.
As Eavie joined him in bed and the lights flicked off, Oliver’s mind wouldn’t settle. The sick feeling in his stomach that he had carried for the past day had solidified into something resembling resentment. Declan had been spooked so easily into ending things that Oliver had to believe that his feelings were lessintense, or easier to ignore. The worst part was that he’d never know the full story. He doubted that Declan would ever let him close enough to talk about it.
At the same time, Maeve and Niall were right. Oliver was doing well, by all appearances, with Eavie. He hadn’t been in danger of elimination that night, which was still shocking to him. He’d never thought he could get this far on the show. He’d also never thought he would genuinely be interested in someone, or that it would end like this.
He swallowed and rolled over, wrapping his arms around Eavie. He couldn’t face Declan, even in the dark. If he committed himself to Eavie, to winning the show, he could convince himself it had all been worth it. Hehadto convince himself it had all been worth it. The money to move to New York would be consolation enough for his broken heart.
Any semblance of Oliver’s old morning routine was gone now. He lay in bed with Eavie as late as he possibly could, until the rest of the contestants had already gone out to the kitchen. Eavie seemed to take this as encouragement, snuggling closer to him.
‘Sleepy?’ she murmured, propping herself up on an elbow and looking down at him. She looked strikingly beautiful in the morning light, and Oliver hated himself for feeling nothing towards her. It would’ve been too simple, he supposed, to fall for someone he could be with publicly. ‘You’re usually an early riser.’
He suddenly wanted to be anywhere else. ‘Everything’s great,’ he lied. ‘Shall I make you breakfast?’
‘You’re the best,’ she said, her hand on his cheek and her face drawing slowly closer to his. He swung himself hurriedly off the bed.
‘I can hear your stomach rumbling,’ he said, in response to her put-out expression. ‘You need food in you.’
He gave her a parting smile, steeling himself for whatever awaited him outside. Declan was sure to be somewhere in the vicinity, and though Oliver knew he should be prepared for that eventuality, he’d been too distracted to consider what their new relationship would look like or how they would play it for the cameras. It was even stranger to think that thousands of people would be watching him, heartbroken, and not understand what had happened.
Thankfully, as he exited the villa, he was met with only Jack and Maeve in the kitchen. Jack waved him over to where he sat overlooking Maeve’s attempt at cooking bacon.
‘All right?’ Oliver asked, as Maeve flinched away from spitting oil. ‘Care for some assistance?’
‘Pleasehelp,’ Jack said. ‘She’s the least domestic bird I’ve ever met.’
‘I’m the breadwinner, Jack, you can’t have it all,’ Maeve said, removing the burned bacon from the pan.
Oliver came to her aid. ‘Shall I do a demo?’ he joked, moving around the counter to put his hands on her shoulders.
Eavie exited the villa just then, heading for the counter. ‘I see you haven’t started,’ she said, looking at where his hands rested on Maeve’s shoulders.
Oliver dropped them. ‘Maeve was giving it a go, but intervention was necessary,’ he explained.
He started on breakfast, flipping bacon and scrambling eggs as he became increasingly frustrated that no one had mentioned where Declan was.
‘Imogen,’ he said, when she finally joined them, ‘where’s your man? Thought you would be keeping him on a tight leash.’ He plated Eavie’s breakfast and passed it to her across the counter.
‘The producers have other ideas. They’ve taken him to the Love Shack,’ Imogen said. ‘Why? Are you looking for him?’
