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She had to choose at some point.
I had to make sure it was me.
* * *
Sophie
One mile into the hike, I was ready to lay on a patch of grass and call it done. Sunrise had come earlier than usual that day. I’d swear it on Henry Cavill’s thick and glorious thighs.
I was having a bad fucking day. Breakfast had been cut short, I was exhausted from the restless sleep the night before, my clothes were feeling all wrong, and the heat… Good lord, the heat was so uncomfortable.
As my jaw unhinged for the yawn to end all yawns, Gia laughed beside me, still looking fresh as a goddamned daisy, even with the sweat dotting her brow. “Slept well, then?”
I snapped my jaw shut and rolled my eyes. “Not at all.”
Last night, I lay between Oliver and Diego the same way I had for nearly a week and pretended to sleep. Once the breathing on either side of me had evened out, I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling, lost in thought and paralyzed about what to do.
Thoughts of my talk with Jess circled my head, and sleep eluded me as I worried over the producer’s concerns. He wasn’t wrong. I had to make a choice. I was hogging the guys, and after finally falling into a fitful sleep, I woke feeling resolved.
“How are things going with Daniel?” I asked, steering the conversation away from my issues.
She ducked her head, but not fast enough for me to miss the smile playing on her lips. “Fantastic, actually. He’s so sweet.”
“That’s so great to hear!” I smiled widely, glad that things were working out for someone here.
Gia returned my smile, and we followed our hiking guide and the others in our group.
Oliver, Viv, Zander, Gia, and I were willing to wake up for the hike, and because of the early hour, we were content to keep the talking to the minimum.
The island had gentle sloping hills covered in greenery and wide, sandy beaches. We were making a full loop of our little haven, and the guide expected it to last a few hours. To be honest, I was glad for the quiet.
We were all outfitted with body cameras for footage, but somehow, it felt more private than back at the villa, where we could constantly see the cameras hovering in every corner of the room. And on the bathroom mirrors. And staring up at us from coffee tables.
The mic packs had faded into the background for me completely. We wore them every day, and they’d become part of getting dressed every morning. Swimsuit, mic pack, kaftan. Island attire, check!
“So, who are you going to pick?” Gia asked, pulling me from my musings.
I sighed as we walked behind the rest of our group. “I honestly don’t know,” I said. “We all just fit together so well, I could almost forget I am supposed to decide between the two. Not to mention the self-esteem booster it’s all been that these two wonderful men want to be with me, but the longer it goes on, the more the dread sets in about cutting one loose. I mean, I’m being selfish, right?”
Viv and I had spent most of yesterday talking it through. She didn’t outright say it, but I could see the poorly hidden judgment in her eyes. I wasn’t playing the game right, and we both knew it.
“I don’t think selfish is the right word. You’re dating them both, which happens all the time in real life. The only difference here is that it’s a televised game show and we’re supposed to couple up,” Gia mused. She pointed ahead at Oliver’s sweat-soaked back. He wore a white T-shirt and board shorts, with sneakers covered in mud from his earlier misstep. “But Oliver is cool. I vote you pick him.”
I laughed, but it sounded hollow even to me. Maybe she was right. I should just pick and be done with it. But the thought of ending things with either of them made my stomach twist into knots. I said as much to Gia, and she countered with a simple, “When you know, you know.”
The problem was, I didn’t know. Not one bit.
As we reached the halfway point of our trek, Oliver found his way to my side, and we walked in silence through the tall grass.
The morning sun had warmed, and I’d torn off my light athletic jacket an hour ago and tied it around my waist. My skin felt wet and sticky with humidity, the chub rub on my poor thighs was making me miserable, and I was getting irritable.
So when Oliver threw his arm over my shoulders and tucked me into his side, I squirmed under him, desperate to escape the additional heat.
He looked at me. “What’s up, love?”
“Sticky,” I replied, keeping my eyes trained ahead. I took the small towel tucked into the waistband of my leggings and dragged it over my face and shoulders. “I feel gross.”
He hummed and took my hand. “This okay?”
