Page 60 of Groomsman to Groom

Luna steps closer. “You get me. You make me feel confident to be myself and open up. For me, that’s scary.”

And there, under the watchful gaze of centuries-old architecture, I let myself feel the full weight of her words, of this moment. Luna likes me—truly likes me—and she’s beautiful with the lamplight flickering across her face.

“I care about you too,” I say, meaning it.

“Good,” she says. “Because I don’t plan on holding back.”

“Wouldn’t want you to.” A street performer passes by, his claps ricocheting off the buildings. “Truth-teller Luna.” She feels like the refresh button I didn’t know I needed.

“While we’re on the topic,” she says, a spark of something different in her eye, “There’s something I need to tell you.” Her fingers twist around her champagne stem. “Something I’ve been keeping to myself, but I think you deserve to know, especially after what happened yesterday.”

My stomach drops. “What?”

Luna hesitates, seeming to wrestle with herself. “It’s about Brielle.”

Of course it is.

“Okay.” I keep my voice carefully neutral.

“I don’t want to be the one to tell you this.” Luna has genuine conflict written across her features. “She and I have become friends. That’s why I’ve stayed quiet. But after seeing how you risked your life for her at the running of the bulls, I can’t keep hiding it.”

“Luna,” I say, my patience thinning, “please tell me.”

She takes a deep breath. “She’s been meeting with Seth.”

Well, that’s not what I expected. “The assistant producer? Meeting with him for what?”

“To help him with his screenplay, supposedly.” Luna’s voice drops further. “She left the cocktail party before the second Lock & Key ceremony, telling me she needed to work on her own script. But I followed her, seeing that she was meeting Seth in the garden, and he handed her a packet of papers. I don’t know how that’s okay—working with someone onset, but I figured she was doing him a favor, so I let it go. But then I saw them again. The morning of the third Lock & Key ceremony. Since she was my roommate, she woke me up as she was sneaking out of our room. I saw her in the garden again with Seth while everyone else was sleeping.”

The knot in my stomach tightens. “I don’t understand what you’re implying.”

“The last time,” Luna says, meeting my eyes directly, “they were kissing.”

The world tilts beneath my feet. “Kissing.”

“I’m sorry.” Luna reaches for my hand, her touch sympathetic. “I know you two have a connection. That’s why I’ve been struggling with whether to tell you. But tonight, I couldn’t let you continue without knowing.”

My mind races, sorting through possibilities. Brielle and Seth? It seems absurd, yet why would Luna invent something, with specific meeting times and places? I do know Brielle said she was working on her own screenplay—she’s mentioned it several times, explaining her occasional distracted moments as plot points working themselves out in her head.

“Thank you for telling me,” I say, my thoughts churning. All of Luna’s details add credibility to her claim. Plus, Brielledoeslike dating screenwriters, and Seth is handsome, or so I hear from the other producers and contestants.

But the Brielle I’ve come to know seems incapable of such a betrayal—seeming to genuinely connect with August, kissing me in that hospital room with what felt like real emotion. And the night together, where she told me she was falling for me, and it felt like everything. But this is a reality show, where everyone has ulterior motives. Including me.

Luna squeezes my hand once more before releasing it. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t easy to hear. But better now than later, right?”

“Yes, absolutely.” I’m replaying every interaction with Brielle through this new disturbing lens. Iwasthinking things seemed too perfect. I guess I was right. Is Brielle being here a strategy to advance her screenwriting career by doing favors for production staff while securing airtime as a frontrunner? Have I been played for a fool by a woman who saw me as a steppingstone?

The Spanish night spreads like ink across the sky, stars emerging one by one above us. Beautiful. Romantic. And utterly at odds with the chaos in my heart.

I change the topic, recovering and ready to get to know Luna better. We discuss our pasts, our families, and our careers. The camera crew keeps on us, but I notice them less now. Luna turns to face me, her expression open and direct in the lamplight. “Hayes, I want you to know that what you see with me is what you get. No games, no hidden agendas.”

I look at her—really look at her—and see a beautiful, confident woman offering simplicity when everything else feels hopelessly complex. Maybe that’s what I need right now. Maybe the fact that things are moving slower with Luna is actually a benefit. Things that are real take time.

“I like that about you. A lot,” I say, meaning it. “I’m drawn to you and your confidence. Your deep, caring nature, and how you make me stop and think about things I normally wouldn’t.”

She flashes me a smile that lights up her eyes. “Good. I feel the same about you.”

I need to forget Brielle and let myself be truly open to the other women. And in this moment, focus on Luna—a woman who speaks her mind and a force of nature in high heels—she’s my kind of unexpected. And I can’t wait to see where this goes.

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