I try to smile back, but I’m having some mixed feelings. Uncle Aaron will definitely not be happy if he finds out Harmony was on set with a bunch of men in their underwear. If I tell him about it, he’ll want Harmony to quit the show, and she’ll be furious with me for snitching. But if I don’t tell him about it and he doesn’t find out until the episode airs, he’ll punish me for keeping it a secret.
Well, maybe by then he’ll be in prison.The thought, flippant and hardly recognizable as my own, comes into my mind unexpectedly. Guilt floods through me, but the more I think about it ... He’ll only go to prison if he’s committed the crime, right? So why shouldIfeel guilty about that?
I don’t know. But I still do. Kind of. Sort of. Maybe?
Before I can dwell on it for too long, Deja loads me up with an armful of bright red underpants. “Come on. Let’s go teach a bunch of ripped dudes how to tastefully tuck in their schlongs ...”
When we arrive in our production truck at the log cabin, I see some of the men blinking blearily and drinking coffee outside. I instinctively scan the faces for Wes but don’t spot him yet. Even though it’s creeping up on ten o’clock, some of the men are clearly still struggling to wake up; shooting lasted until early this morning, since the first Axing Ceremony had the most men to sort through. Thirty-two men have now been narrowed down to twenty-four, which is still an absurd number of men I’m about to see in their underpants.
Deja pulls out her phone and uses it to emit a loud audio clip of an air horn. “Wake up, mountain men!” she shouts through cupped hands to amplify her voice. “It’s time to get naked!”
After that, the truck is swarmed with men. Deja and I climb into the bed to better distribute the costume pieces. All the men will be wearing red underpants, matching red socks, and boots, but production has also chosen some of the men to have extras—suspenders, beanies, lumberjack caps, etcetera. As the two dozen men gather around the truck, I unsuccessfully attempt to stop myself from searching again for Wes in the crowd. We’re not supposed to know each other. I’m not supposed to give him any extra attention. And yet?—
As soon as I spot him, standing a few feet away, I find that he’s already been watching me. Our eyes meet. It feels like sticking my fork into a toaster, but in a way that isn’t entirely unpleasant. My eyes skitter away, and I use all of my willpower not to look back again.
“Listen up, boys,” Deja calls, completely unflustered by being surrounded by so many beautiful men. She might be one of my new heroes. (WWHTMKGL&DD?) “Here’s how today is going to work ...”
To my relief, it seems like all the contestants are genuinely psyched to do the photoshoot, and no one is being coerced into doing something that will make them feel uncomfortable. I sigh at the invisible weight being lifted from my shoulders. That’s one less thing to worry about.
No sooner has the thought crossed my mind than movement out of the corner of my eye draws my attention. I glance over just as one of the men—Steve, I think his name is?—whips off his shirt, then starts on his pajama pants.
I hastily look away, only to see most of the other men following suit. Shirts are being shucked off left and right. Sweatpants, too. Even ... underpants?! I quickly turn my eyes heavenward. Holy guacamole. I was so worried the men might feel pressured to get naked that I didn’t consider the alternative—that they might be willing and eager to strip off all their clothes.
How long will it take before they put on the red underwear? It’s going to be very difficult to do my job today if I can’t stop looking at the sky.
Do not look at Wes, I warn myself sternly.
I mean, it doesn’t matter now, but I’ve definitely daydreamed about what Cass looked like underneath that prison uniform. Wes isn’t Cass, though. They might have the same body, but that’s it. And bodies have always been the least interesting thing about a person to me. It was who I thought Cass was that drew me most to him, not his beautiful face and lean, muscular body.Wes’sbeautiful face and lean muscular body. Also, I want to respect his privacy. After all ... after all, how wouldIfeel if I were peeling off my clothes, knowing Wes was watching me?
The thought sends a hot, heavy current streaking down my lower belly.
I look. I don’t mean to! My eyes just keep finding him naturally of their own accord. This time, he’s facing away, his backside completely bare. I swallow as Ifollow the path of muscles down the slope of his broad shoulders and tapered waist and the perfect bubble crescent of his?—
Lord in Heaven. (Lust. Lust. Lust!)
Deja nudges me with her elbow and I’m so surprised I have to bite back a yelp. She just grins. “Perks of working in the wardrobe department, huh?” Her eyes track something going on out of my field of vision, and she bites her lip in obvious appreciation.
I cast my gaze up to the sky again. “Mm-hmm ...”
Chapter 19
Wes
In all the many, many times I imagined myself being half naked with Nina, I can’t say this is exactly what I had in mind. Ideally, there were fewer other men involved in my fantasy, as in zero other men. Not so many lumberjack caps.
But the craft services table? That can stay.
There’s something about being in nothing but my underwear that makes me much more aware of Nina’s presence. I have to stop myself several times from openly staring at her as she goes about her business. To distract myself, I strike up a conversation with some of the other guys. I learn that Everett is really into bird calling and that Scott can complete a thousand-piece puzzle in under two hours.
I give little bits of myself, slightly amended or skewed, to Nate R.’s personality so he’ll ring more true, and so I won’t feel so much like I’m lying to everybody I talk to. I push down the pang of guilt I feel anyway, because no matter how many times I go undercover, I forget how much this part sucks.
What I don’t do is follow Nina with my eyes as she moves around, helping contestants with the various extra bits of their costumes. I don’t do that! Idocatch myself flexing my muscles compulsively, because I am basically naked, surrounded by dudes who look like they were carved by Michelangelo. I’m,weirdly, getting the butt workout of a lifetime with all this clenching and unclenching, so that’s an unexpected perk.
Am I aware of where Nina is in proximity to me at all times? Sure. Nothing wrong with that. I’m just keeping tabs on my informant. Making sure she’s safe. Am I also aware of how some of the other contestants are responding to her? Do I notice the way Oliver straightens and thrusts out his chest whenever she passes by him, or the way Lee seems to lose his train of thought when he looks directly into her beautiful big dark eyes?
Clearly, yes.
I’m only human. I can’t help myself. But I don’t tuck Nina under my arm like a football and run off into the forest, so. There’s that.
