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Fifteen
BROOKE
The lights were blinding at best. They felt searing hot against my retinas as I moved to avoid them, but no matter where I averted my gaze they seemed to be everywhere.
“Devin!”
The voice was larger than life. Almost comically loud.
“Reese! Hayden!”
I still couldn’t tell who it was, at least not right away. But given a few moments I knew Iwouldknow, because it was that recognizable. That distinctive.
“Annnnnd…”
No fewer than five or six people had burst into our villa without being invited. The one in the middle spun on his foot and pointed directly at me.
“Brooke!”
There were lights everywhere now — lights on their own, lights attached to cameras. And there were even more people behind them, too. Sound engineers. Boom operators, holding big fuzzy microphones at the end of long aluminum poles.
No way.
The man in the center wasn’t just smiling, he was grinning ear to ear. I remembered the voice now, as well as the face. The spiky blond hair. The ridiculous, almost brash array of Hawaiian shirts.
No fucking way…
“Noah?”
The word came from Hayden first. It was followed by gasps of recognition.
“NoahFrost?”
Devin’s mouth was open. Reese had both hands on his head in disbelief. I hadn’t said or done anything so far, despite the mic that had been instantly — and proficiently — dropped right out of the camera’s range, just above my forehead.
“What the hell—”
“Three Hunks minus their badass,” Noah cut us off quickly, “and one lonely Sorority girl missing her Sisters...”
The main camera zoomed in on him, even as the others turned to catch our reactions We were glued to what he was saying, even if what he was saying made no sense at all.
“They came in second and third last season, just missing the mark. If not for the Million Dollar Meltdown, they’d be champions already!”
Noah whirled back to the camera now, speaking directly to the audience.
“Alone their teams might be broken, but together they’re whole,” Noah went on. “An all new gang of four, given one last chance at redemption. A group of thrill-seeking finalists, made up of the best of both worlds!”
The lights seemed brighter than the sun now, the cameras more obtrusive than ever. But despite our confusion, Noah refused to stop. He just kept going.
“Athleticism, drive, energy… the Dream Team, if you will!”
He pointed, and I thought for a minute the whole room might explode.
“Can they overcome the few tiny obstacles that kept them from ultimate victory?” Noah asked the camera. “Or will they fall heartbreakingly short for a second time?”
You’ve gotta be kid—
“Fifteen teams, racing around the world!” Noah was shouting. “ONE prize! Four times bigger than anything we’ve given away before!”
