Page 23 of Groomsman to Groom

“I bet it was,” Kavita chimes in from her perch on the arm of the couch. Her smile is sharp as a paper cut. “Was that when he made his move?”

My cheeks burn—partly because they’re right, and partly because their jealousy is so transparent, it’s almost sad.

“We connected,” I say simply. “We talked. You know, with words and thoughts.”

Gabby snorts, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Honey, men don’t want conversations. They want arm candy. You’re the palate cleanser—the little intellectual detour before he gets back to the main course.” Her eyes flick meaningfully to Kavita, then herself.

I could tell them how Hayes’s eyes lit up when I explained why Captain Marvel’s powers outrank Thor’s. How he listened—really listened—when I talked about my mom. How his kiss felt like coming home to a place I’d actually never been before. But these aren’t my friends. They’re competitors who’d use any vulnerability as ammunition.

“Guess we’ll see,” I say instead, moving toward the stairs. “I need a shower, so—”

“I saw the penguin.” Gabby interrupts. “Did he win you that? How... high school.”

“I thought it was cute,” Annabelle pipes up from the corner where she’s been quietly sketching. “Very thoughtful.”

Gabby’s eyes narrow, cataloging Annabelle as another target. Great, now I’ve put sweet, dyslexic children’s book author Annabelle in the crosshairs.

“I’m heading up,” I announce, not waiting for further commentary. As I’m walking away, Onion comes darting at me, probably from Skye’s office. I scoop her into my arms, so happy to see her.

She and I escape to the relative safety of the bedroom I share with Serena, Annabelle, and a quiet contestant named Taylor who mostly keeps to herself. Sitting on my bed with Onion, I finally allow the smile I’ve been suppressing to spread across my face. Because despite the Mean Girls reunion happening downstairs, last night was magic. Pure magic.

Hayes and I connected on a level that transcends this artificial competition. When he talked about his son—brilliant, science-obsessed August—I could see the real man beneath thebachelor façade. A father trying his best, still carrying the scars of his own childhood. When I opened up about my mom, he didn’t offer empty platitudes. He got it. Actually got it.

And that kiss on the Ferris wheel... it was everything our beach almost-encounter promised, but deeper. Not just physical attraction, although hello, that’s there, but mentally in sync. The way his fingers traced my jawline so tenderly, like I was something precious—

A knock at the door fractures my recollection.

“It’s me,” Serena calls softly.

“Come in.” I compose my face into something less lovesick.

Serena slips in, closing the door behind her. “Spill.” She plops onto the foot of my bed and starts scratching Onion behind the ears. “I want every detail those vultures downstairs don’t deserve to hear.”

I laugh, some of the tension leaving my shoulders. “It was great,” I say. “We talked about everything—Marvel, losing parents, his son. He really listens, you know?”

“And?” Serena eyebrows waggle. “The Ferris wheel? That classic move wasn’t wasted, was it?”

“No.” My cheeks heat again. “It wasn’t wasted.”

“I knew it!” She claps her hands together and Onion barks. “The way he looks at you, Brielle—it’s different. Trust me.”

Something in my chest constricts. Because itisdifferent. And not just because of our connection at the fair, but because of what happened in St. Sebastian. The kiss on the beach that no one here knows about. The prior tryst we both have to pretend doesn’t exist.

“What’s wrong?” Serena's scientist eyes miss nothing. “You went from cloud nine to storm system in two seconds flat.”

Serena has been nothing but kind, and I’d love to have someone to confide in. But I signed an NDA, first and foremost.Second, one slip, one off-camera comment picked up by a hot mic, and both Hayes and I could be labeled as frauds.

“Just thinking about the competition,” I say instead. “Gabby and her minions are out for blood.”

Serena rolls her eyes. “Ignore them. They’re just jealous because Hayes sees something real in you.”

“Maybe,” I murmur, though the knot of anxiety in my chest tightens. Because what if he does see something real? What if there’s actually a chance for something lasting here? The possibility is simultaneously thrilling and terrifying.

Serena stands, touching my shoulder. “And be careful who you trust. It seems like most of these women are messy.”

I nod, taking Serena’s warning seriously. “I’m sure you’re right, and I’ll keep an eye out.”

After she leaves, I cuddle with Onion for a while before I let her outside to play, then prepare a shower, my mind still spinning. Part of me—the writer part—can identify the perfect story arc here: girl meets boy on beach, connection is interrupted, fate reunites them on a ridiculous reality show, they overcome obstacles and find true love. Roll credits.

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