I have no desire to go back to the hotel, back to that hotbed of hot men, to face them. Any one of them can steal Lyra away from me, even if I’m the one in love with her.
If she’s in love with me, why is she kissing other men?
The image of Lyra with those lips that I’ve been obsessing over since I got here pressed against Liam’s is going to haunt me for a long time.
Maybe forever.
It happened so fast; there was cute banter and knowing glances, fun reminiscences, and then it got ugly. Is there too much baggage for it not to get ugly?
And then the shockwave so intense that I’m surprised the others couldn’t feel it. I’m in love with her. Can’t they see it? Isn’t it scrawled on my forehead in red ink?
I came here to figure out my feelings for Lyra, but now that I’ve done that, what next? Because that doesn’t mean I’m going to end up with her. She’s made that perfectly clear.
I have no idea how Lyra feels. Because if she feels even half of what I do, what is she doing kissing other men?
That is the question that stabs at me as I walk through the tiny town. I don’t let myself question why I was kissing Abigail for all that time, because then it’s easy to justify Lyra’s actions.
What did I think would happen if I showed up here? These men are fighting for Lyra. Kissing is going to be involved.
I would have kissed her if we hadn’t been on a date with six other men and it wasn’t guaranteed to be televised to the world.
But that’s what I signed up for, isn’t it?
I trudge down the road. A car slows beside me and I don’t bother to turn, thinking it’s someone from the show sent to make sure I don’t disappear into the ocean. And then I hear Odin’s voice.
“We really shouldn’t have guys from the show walking around or we might lose you to the women from town,” he calls out the open passenger window.
“No one would want me,” I tell him, taking a few steps to slump against the car, head drooping.
“That doesn’t sound like you. Get in.”
My body suddenly aches with exhaustion, and I’m not sure I have the energy to open the door. I stand there so long that Odin finally reaches across to open it for me.
I manage to get in by myself, but I feel like I’m moving someone else’s body.
“Spencer, tell me what’s going on.” Odin grips my arm with a worried expression. “What happened? Is it Lyra?”
“Lyra is fine. She’s better than fine. She’s currently enjoying a beer with a group of very nice men, laughing at their brilliant comments between bouts of kissing them. Maybe not all of them.” I rub my eyes, praying the image will disappear. “I hope not all ofthem.”
“She kissed someone?”
“I think she’s been kissing someone since she got here, but this time I got to see it in person.”
Odin starts the car. “This was on the date? Where’s everyone else?”
“I left.”
“Was it the kissing, or any other particular reason?”
“Do you remember when you first figured out that you were in love with Camille?”
“In love—”
I forget for a moment that Odin is also Lyra’s brother as well as one of my best friends. And then I don’t care. “Think back at the moment when you knew you were in love with her. And then picture her kissing someone else.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah. Ah.”
