‘I’m sorry,’ he gasped.
I pried the plastic bottle out of his grasp. ‘You haven’t hurt me,’ I said. ‘The opposite. Look at everything you’ve done for me. You saved me. What you’ve done for me, recording the friend spots, making sure I get screen time, making sure I get paid – yousavedme.’
I took his hands in mine. ‘You can save Belinda too,’ I said. ‘You don’t need to worry about breaking her heart. Just help her make breaking her tooth worthwhile. Help her be a main character for a minute.’
He squeezed my hands tight, like he’d fallen off a cliff and I was the person hauling him up.
‘I just feel like such an arsehole,’ he said at last.
‘You’re not,’ I said. ‘You’re so kind, Dylan. You’re the kindest man I’ve ever met. You’re definitely too kind for this show. Do you think the other Romeos gave a shit about the women they weren’t interested in? Most of them barely gave a shit about the women theywereinterested in.’
‘That’s part of it,’ he said. ‘What if…?’
‘What if what, Dylan?’
‘What if I’m a bad Romeo?’ he said. ‘What if I get this wrong?’
‘Is this about Marija again?’ I asked. ‘Because if you really like her—’
‘No!’ he said. ‘It’s just… Fuck, how do I explain this?’
He closed his eyes. ‘This place is a pressure cooker,’ he said. ‘Every second of the day, there’s someone telling me to stand here, do this, sit with her, hold her hand, no, not like that, don’t look at the camera, don’t swear, you’ve got to look like you’re into her, can’t you just kiss her? It’s so much, all the time, and I’m constantly worried that I’m doing it wrong. That I’ll hurt people. That it’s not going to turn out the way I want. Every single time, when I go out on one of these dates, or to a Last Chance Party, or to a Necklace Ceremony, I’m worried I’m fucking it up. I can’t breathe sometimes, thinking about how badly I might be fucking it up.’
A tear snaked its way down his cheek.
I’d seen men cry before. It was one of my weaknesses. The first time my ex-boyfriend Jordan had cried in front of me(‘I don’t know how I’d do this without you, Cece,’ he’d wept, arms around me after his grandma’s funeral) had been the moment I knew I loved him.
If only Dylan had managed to blink that tear away. If he had, then maybe there would have been a chance for me.
‘The only time it feels like I can breathe, even a little bit,’ he said, ‘is when I talk to you.’
As another tear slipped down his cheek, my heart settled into a new place in my chest, and I knew I wasn’t getting out of this with it in one piece.
Eventually, they made us restart Love Jockey Hockey. Even with Belinda on the sidelines, still clutching the bloody towel to her mouth, the Villa team destroyed us.
‘Congratulations!’ Z announced. ‘Team Villa, you’ll get some special alone time with Dylan this evening! Team Convent, I’m sorry, but it just wasn’t meant to be.’
We had to film some interviews afterwards. Murray insisted we stay covered in mud for them, so when we finally got back to the Convent, there was a scrum for the shower. Not wanting to annoy everyone else even further, I waited until last. There was no hot water left, but I told myself that was a good thing. Maybe a cold shower would make me stop wanting so badly something I one million per cent could not have.
It didn’t.
Everyone else had passed out in their bunks when I got out of the bathroom (understandably, even a sport as ridiculous as Love Jockey Hockey took it out of you). I was exhausted too,but I still went downstairs, made myself a cup of chamomile tea and sat out on the verandah, looking up at the stars.
Dylan didn’t come.
It had been ridiculous to think he might. He’d just filmed for a bazillion hours in a row. Not to mention the fact that panicking was tiring. Of course he probably just went right to his boat and fell asleep!
It still stung, though.
It was a good thing, I told myself. I needed to get my head on straight. He was pushing every single one of my buttons. He was my kryptonite: a kind, sensitive man who needed me.
But he wasn’tforme. He had ten other girlfriends to prove it.
I saw him the next morning, when he came down to film a friend spot before his single date, but it didn’t feel like it usually did. ‘So, Amanda,’ I said, feet tucked under me in my friend-zone armchair, trying to keep my voice bright. ‘Single date with her today, right?’
‘That’s the plan,’ he said. He was leaning forward on the couch, like he might leap up and run away at any moment. His hair was standing up at the back. His nervous tic was back, his thumb and middle finger tapping together.
‘Why did you pick her?’
