I watch as more doors open. Two more men—Mac this time, and someone named Devon—get a yellow rose, as well as Lucas Nyle.
I guess I didn’t have to share my thoughts of him with Lyra after all.
I watch as the men give those going home one-shouldered hugs and pretend to be upset.
Maybe they really are upset. Odin told me that during the short time he was on the show, he saw friendships develop. Being cooped up in a hotel together would have to be the reason for that, because I don’t think competing for the same woman makes anyone friendly.
Still, the only ones who are truly upset are the ones going home. I’m sure the rest of us feel the same elation that it’s not us.
It’s not me.
There are two pink roses outside the door, one for Rand and one for me. Pink means we can stay.
A red rose outside your door means you get a date.
It’s not me going home, but it’s not me going on the date with Lyra, either.
Rand scoops both of them off the floor. “Looks like we’ll be roomies for another few days,” he says, handing one to me. “You’re the second one I’ve had, so it’s good that I’m not going to be seen as a bad-luck charm.”
“He already went home?”
“Yes. Asani. He didn’t even make it through the first date. I was hoping you’d at least make it twenty-four hours.”
“Hopefully more than that.” It’s very difficult to keep the disappointment from my face, but Rand acts as if he’s used to being the focus of cameras.
Maybe he’s right and it won’t take long to get used to the constant surveillance.
But it will be impossible to get comfortable with the idea that Lyra can send me home at any time. As someone she’s turned to for advice in the past, I know there’s no chance of taking on that role here, because this is about me.
Lyra can decide I’m not worth the effort of keeping me around anytime she wants to, and I don’t blame her. She can do the same for any of these men.
She must love the control aspect of it.
The only thing I can do to convince her to keep me around is to show her I’m all in. There is no time for self-reflection or internal monologues—I have to make sure she knows I’m here for her, for an honest-to-goodness chance at a future with her.
Maybe if I hadn’t spent my life denying it, I wouldn’t be standing in a hallway with a bunch of strangers holding a pink rose.
I take a deep breath, and then another, because this feels like a moment. An epiphany, where I finally pull my head out of the sand.
Or pull it out of somewhere else.
I want Princess Lyra.
And I’m going to do everything I can to get her.
I join Rand as the men stand around and talk. “So, who gets the next date?” I ask.
18
Lyra
S
ophieandGunnarhaven’tarrived before I take the car to the hotel to pick up my date, and for once, I wish Gunnar had more of Odin’s punctuality.
I’d really like my friend here.
My friend, who is also Spencer’s half-sister, so maybe I’m better off with Grayson and the Rs as a sounding board. Sophie might well be working for Team Spencer.
