“Hypocrite,” I say, coughing into my hand.
“What did you say?” The furrow between Odin’s eyes reminds me of our father’s.
“I said, I didn’t realize my big brother, the stoic sword-master and Viking ancestor advocate was a hypocrite.” I glance at Camille’s expression of surprise. She may be married to him but she’s been hiding out too long on Saint Pierre and hasn’t seen someone—me—shut my brother up. “I know it was traumatic for you, but did you somehow blank out that week or so that you were on the show? That you decided, on your own, and possibly needed to apply, to be on The Suitorette?”
“That’s different,” Odin blusters.
“Yes, because I am the star and you… were not,” I say.
Grayson did admit that the show had considered Odin for the Suitor for the next season, but then he announced his engagement to Camille and had no need for the magic of reality romance.
Not that I think anything about this will be magical.
Or maybe it will be.
I’ve always considered myself as lucky, so I might find the love of my life on a television reality show.
Or…I might not.
Odin’s question is the fourth time he’s demanded to know why I agreed to go on the show, all worded slightly differently but with the same meaning. Before our in person chat, it was through text and email, and one garbled FaceTime call when I was boarding my plane.
I love all my brothers, but why did you birth them this way?
The silent question is directed at my mother because even though she’s gone, there are some things you can only talk to about with your mom.
“Odin.” I twirl my glass between my fingers. “Did anyone askyouwhy you went on the show? Or, why any of you let People Magazine take pictures of you for the sexy issue?”
“Sexiest Man issue,” Odin corrects, his tone stiff like he’s embarrassed.
Embarrassed to admit helikedbeing featured in the magazine, more like it.
“Full of sexy men.” I turn to Camille and roll my eyes. She smiles.
My sister-in-law is totally on my side.
But Odin is red in the face and looking like he might be close to picking up one of his swords and swinging it at me, so I’d better give him something. “It sounded like fun,” I concede. “So I thought I’d give it a try. I always look good on camera.”
“Fun?” he splutters. “How is it fun to have your heart broken?”
“Who says anyone is going to break my heart?” I demand. “Maybe that’s what happened to you, big brother—”
“Did you get your heart broken?” Camille adds, turning to him with ice in her gaze.
“No! No. I…it was…” he stammers.
“Embarrassing?” I offer
“Humiliating?” Camille raises an eyebrow.
“Mortifying?” I’m enjoying myself. “But it still turned out pretty good for you, didn’t it?” I gesture to Camille, now sitting with her arms crossed. “You got the girl in the end.”
“Yes, but…” Some of Odin’s bluster deflates. “We don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“That won’t happen. You should worry about the men who signed up for this.” I look at Camille with an evil smile and tap my fingers together. “I’m going to go through them like a fat kid eating Smarties.”
Maybe not the best thing to say in front of my brother. “Lyra! You can’t say that on television. And you can’t—no.” He drops his head into his hands. “We don’t want to see anyone eating Smarties.”
“Who’swe?” I counter.
