Page 16 of Groomsman to Groom

“They’re definitely talking about penises.” Skye puts a hand on her hip. “Annabelle, I asked you to stop playing. Gabby, go get laid already.” Sky flashes the camera a cheeky grin. “So with that, I’m awarding the one-on-one date to Brielle, who has the highest points as of now. Because I’m done with this shitshow. Congratulations, Brielle. You’ll be joining Hayes at the GeekFest carnival tomorrow.”

Behind her, Jordan’s face darkens before she composes herself. Gabby whispers something to Kavita that makes them both snicker. The cameras are catching all of it, I’m sure.

“Thank you,” Brielle says, beaming.

As she walks away, she looks back at me. When our eyes meet, she quickly turns away, but not before I catch the smile she’s trying to hide.

Tomorrow. A carnival. Just the two of us and a dozen camera operators.

When everyone’s gone, Skye nudges me. “Careful. The cameras caught every dopey expression on your face while she was answering those questions. The editors are going to have cut all that to keep the show exciting.”

I run a hand through my hair. “I was just impressed by her knowledge.”

“Mm-hmm,” Skye hums. “Well, impressed or not, you need to be careful. Gabby looks ready to put laxatives in Brielle’s morning coffee.”

“Right.”

Sheisright—I need to be cognizant of the jealousy brewing among the other contestants. And I’m committed to giving everyone a fair chance, as I promised when I signed up for this circus. I’m making interesting and genuine connections with many of the other women, and I have to remind myself that Brielle’s further along because of the prior evening we spent together.

Rule number one of being the bachelor: don’t have favorites.

And I refuse to break it.

6

Wheel in the Sky

BRIELLE

The fairgrounds loom ahead of us, a neon-lit fantasy against the afternoon sky. I glance at Hayes, who’s staring up at the roller coaster with boyish excitement as the cameras trail behind us, a constant reminder that this isn’t just a date—it’s a production. Still, when Hayes turns and catches me watching him, it’s just us, surrounded by the sweet scent of funnel cakes and the melody of carousel music.

“Ready?” he says.

“As I’ll ever be.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, a nervous tic I’ve had since childhood.

Hayes is wearing a vintage Game of Thrones T-shirt that’s faded just enough to look authentically loved rather thanartificially distressed. It’s the Stark direwolf sigil, which feels like a silent acknowledgment of our trivia connection. I’m wearing jeans and a T-shirt that features Captain Marvel—powerful, but still feminine enough for television. The stylist back at the mansion spent forty-five minutes on my hair to make it look “neatly windswept,” which seems like a contradiction.

Hayes offers his hand as we approach the entrance, and I take it, trying to ignore the jolt of electricity that shoots up my arm. His fingers entwine with mine naturally, as if they’ve done it a thousand times, though technically it’s our first touch since... well, since St. Sebastian. Since the beach. Since we almost—

“I’ve been looking forward to this.” He interrupts my wandering thoughts. “A day away from the mansion sounds like heaven right now.”

“You have no idea.” I don’t have to tell him that Kavita and Gabby are clearly cooking up something to end me after I won the trivia challenge.

Hayes laughs, the sound rich and genuine. “I was impressed by you yesterday, you know. Not many people can name all three Mountain actors in order.”

“It’s useless knowledge, really. Does it say something concerning about me that I store actor names from decade-old shows instead of—I don’t know, how to change a tire?”

“It says you’re passionate about stories.” He squeezes my hand. “I love that.”

The carnival spreads before us in all its noisy, colorful glory. Children dart between legs like hyperactive fish, teenagers cluster in groups, and couples walk hand-in-hand, just like us. Except we’re trailed by a camera crew trying to be inconspicuous and failing miserably.

“What first?” Hayes’s eyes scan the array of rides and games.

I point to the bumper cars. “There. I can channel my competitive nature in a socially acceptable way.”

“You think you can take me?”

“I know I can.” I tug him toward the line, already feeling lighter than I have in days.

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