A shrill bird song catches my attention and I turn to the window. A solitary bird sits on a branch like it’s looking in the window.
“I know that’s not you, Mom, but I’m going to pretend it is,” I whisper. Just for a moment. Just until the sadness—which she wouldn’t want me to be feeling—dissipates.
I sniff and give a shake of my head, and it’s gone.
But the bird stays.
31
Spencer
T
herearetwelveofus on this date.
I have no idea how this is possible. How can I talk to Lyra, let alone get near her with this many men, all wanting the same thing?
I want to be annoyed at Lyra for letting this happen. For not giving me a chance to talk to her, explain why I walked out of the last date.
And then I realize she expects me to be annoyed. Possibly even wants it because we communicate the best when we’re angry at each other.
And I’m sure she knows why I left the brewery.
I tuck the irritation down deep and follow the group out to the back lawn of the hotel.
There’s no beach area here; the waves come straight from the North Atlantic, and while the constant crashing is picturesque as well as relaxing, no one should step foot in the water. It’s cold, it’s rough and it’s rocky, with a wall built up to keep the worst of the waves off the lawn.
We group around Grayson and Rue, with six camera people standing around. At least this part isn’t being filmed.
It’s taken some time to get used to the constant cameras, but anyone who ends up with Lyra will need to expect that.
“Let me explain what’s going on here,” Grayson calls over the din of the men who aren’t hiding their excitement.
I should be that excited.
I am that excited—I can’t wait to see Lyra, but I’m also nervous about what they’re going to make us do.
While wearing suits and tuxedos, and, in one case, a kilt.
We all agreed that Jon has the best calves for the kilt.
“I’m happy to report that we won’t be going anywhere near the water today,” Grayson says loudly. “On my season, I ended up in the water, and can we saychafing?”
Laughter all around, and Grayson grins.
He’s very good at this host thing.
“You all look amazing once you’re cleaned up… but you might notstayclean.” He motions behind him, where a bit of an obstacle course is set up, with a throne-like chair at the far end.
Rue claps her hands. “Gentlemen, this is going to be fun. Now, first thing will be the catwalk, where you can show yourself off to Lyra. Who is coming out—” She checks her watch. “Any minute now. Get in line, please, and cameras start rolling.”
It’s chaos for five straight minutes, and then it just—works.
Lyra comes out of the ballroom door on Odin’s arm, followed by Sophie and Camille. My sister is in purple, while Camille is wearing hot pink, which should clash with her hair but instead, gives her an amazing glow.
And the way Odin glances behind him suggests he clearly thinks so too.
But once I see all of Lyra, she’s all Ican look at.
