Chapter 24
CY
Brielle slept with men for money when she was a stripper in Vegas.
That statement rattles through me after Mara leaves my room.
I don’t have an issue with it. I’m definitely in no position to judge what others do behind closed doors.
But I never would have guessed.
Truth is stranger than fiction, I suppose.
She was not the contestant I planned to send home today.
Once she was escorted out, production asked whether I wanted to proceed as planned or skip tonight’s elimination.
Skipping the elimination isn’t an option.
I’ve made my decision. The sooner I act on it, the better.
I don’t want to send Sydney home. But what choice do I have?
Every time I close my eyes, I picture the deep purple dress, the one that looked beautiful on Sydney, violently shredded.
In the mirror above my dresser, I stare at my reflection. The lipstick from last night has been removed, leaving no evidence of yesterday’s incident. After Sydney went back to her room, I talked to Danny and Mara, demanding she be protected.
Mara said there’s nothing the show can do. That they’re actively looking for Scarlett but that it’s been difficult since she’s shown herself so infrequently. There were no leads.
But now Sydney is on Scarlett’s radar. Because of me. I have to keep her safe. I tried to stay away last night. I should have.
But I lack self-control when it comes to her. So I waited long enough for the lodge to settle for the night, then I crept across the hall to her room. Not for sex—as phenomenal as it would have been—but just to hold her. To make sure she was safe.
I woke up early this morning knowing what I need to do.
Despite how much I don’t want to.
“Is Sydney okay?”
Danny hovers in the doorway, picking at what looks like a hang nail. “She’s downstairs with the others. Mara is telling them about Brielle. She wants you to head down soon.”
Annoyance swirled through me. Thanks for not answering my question.
At some point, the thoughts that consume me have gone from the way Sydney tastes to whether or not she’s safe.
Sighing, I assess myself once more, fussing with my collar, even though it’s already in place.
It would be a lie to say that sleeping with her hasn’t changed our relationship.
Though if I really think about it, the changes started the night she followed me to the shelter.
A protectiveness I couldn’t shake took over when she cried in my arms in my car.
The night of our date, when she struggled with her shoe as the headlight of the ATV washed over her, an intense need to keep her safe washed over me.
In an instant, I knew that if I didn’t do something, she was going to be hurt.
Sydney is beautiful, but her looks aren’t what make her attractive. It’s the way she sees things, the unpredictable thoughts that escape her, her refusal to take any shit from anybody. Outside of the show, I could see myself wanting to be friends with her.
And when she kept trying to tell me what to do the other night?
It was seriously fucking hot.
I like a woman who focuses on her own pleasure, who isn’t afraid to ask for what she wants or take it for herself.
“You ready?” Danny asks.
I blink and drop my hands to my sides. “Yeah.”
I follow him down the stairs, then pass him as he moves aside to wait while I make my entrance.
Roman is there and the cameras are already rolling, so I flash a smile at the one focused on me. It’s the smile I’ve been trained to give—a partial smirk, just enough bad boy to melt women’s panties. But it’s not genuine.
Because my thoughts are occupied by one woman only, and she doesn’t even wear panties.
And, fuck, tonight, she’s wearing a teal dress that hugs her every curve and makes her green eyes glow.
“Good evening, ladies. You all look beautiful.” I scan them, ensuring I’m looking at Sydney when I say the word beautiful.
It’s not a lie. Each woman here is beautiful.
They’re a rainbow of colors in front of me, reds and blues and even a yellow in my periphery—did production do that on purpose?—but I can’t look away from Sydney.
“Cy, when you and I talked earlier, you mentioned that you already had your mind made up,” Roman says. “So even though we’ve lost Brielle this week, you want to proceed. Is that correct?”
I drag my attention from Sydney to him, wanting to call him out for being a liar.
He and I did not speak earlier. We rarely speak between compass ceremonies or other activities he’s required to be involved in.
Even if I wanted to speak to him, he’s never around.
He was late coming to the lodge, and he’s spends the majority of his time in his room.
He wasn’t even here when Sydney and I were stranded at the cabin.
Does the studio really think he’s worthy of hosting?
But I don’t call him a liar. Cameras are rolling, so I keep up the facade.
I nod. “That’s right. I’ve truly enjoyed this week and our dates, but I don’t need any additional time to make my decision.”
I’ve made it. Twice now.
Once after the last compass ceremony.
Another one, a different decision, after last night.
“And let me reiterate,” he says. “With Brielle gone, you do not have to send another woman home tonight.”
I nod. “I understand that. But I also had a decision in mind before Brielle left, and I don’t want to continue to lead someone on when the relationship between us isn’t developing the way the others are.”
Not others. Just one other.
Roman nods, his expression serious. “Admirable, Cy. Very admirable. I’ll leave you to it, then.” With a nod, he steps back against the wall.
I turn to the women and pick up the first compass from the table in front of me. Everything in me wants to say Sydney’s name. To give her the compass. To keep her here with me longer. But the image of the lipstick-lined mirror swims to the surface again, and fuck, does it terrify me.
You belong to me, not her.
Sydney.
I have to protect her.
She’s watching me, the line between her brows deepening when I remain silent.
Will she understand what I’m about to do? It’s for her safety.
“Cy?” Roman steps forward.
I clear my throat and shift my attention.
“Josie.”
I can’t look at Sydney. Call me a chickenshit, but I’m too afraid to face the consequence of my actions.
What must she think of me? How callus is it that I’m calling someone else’s name after spending last night in her bed?
Fuck, this hurts.
The need to press a hand over my chest, to ease the pain there, is great, but I remain still until Josie steps in front of me.
“Josie, will you continue this search for love with me?” I have to force the words out, my tongue wanting to rebel. Everything in me is telling me this is wrong.
Josie isn’t Sydney.
Which means Sydney stays safe.
Smiling, Josie reaches for the compass. “I will. Thank you.” With a gentle hug and a soft kiss on my cheek, she returns to her mark.
Despite my best efforts, I can’t help but look at Sydney. She doesn’t look upset. She doesn’t look angry.
She looks…unsurprised. Like she expected this.
I want to apologize. I want to call her name.
But I want her safe more.
Gooseflesh ripples along my neck as I scan the remaining women. I know who I want.
And who I don’t want.
“Simone.”
Simone seems surprised, her mouth popping open in an O. But she recovers quickly, smiling as she comes forward to accept the compass.
“Jade.”
Every time I call a name that isn’t Sydney’s my body rebels. Each time I ask the question about searching for love, my tongue gets thicker, my mouth drier.
“Jade, will you continue this search for love with me?” I ask even as my gaze flicks to Sydney.
No, dumbass, stay focused. Get your shit together.
I drag my attention back to Jade and smile.
She studies me for a heartbeat before nodding. “I will.” She takes the compass and gives me a brief hug before she returns to the riser.
Roman moves back into the frame, clapping and rubbing his hands together like a villain in a B-rated movie.
“Cy, this is the last compass of the night.” He holds out an arm like a game show host. “When you’re ready.”
Seriously, someone needs to talk to the show runner about this asshole.
I look from Sydney to Kendall. They’re standing on opposite sides of the grouping, Kendall’s cheeks red, her nostrils flared. While she glares daggers in my direction, Sydney remains calm, accepting my decision with no outward emotion.
One more name and she’s safe.
Kendall.
I just have to say her name.
Except my vocal cords lock and sweat breaks out along my hairline. Fingers trembling, I twist them through the chain of the last compass.
Say it. Say her name.
Every eye is on me, every person here waiting for my decision.
It’s one I’ve already made.
It’s time to act.
Two syllables. That’s all that stands between me and the end of the ceremony.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, then release it slowly.
Head lifted, focus fixed on the woman I must choose, I say her name.
“Sydney.”
What the fuck? No. All day, I’ve told myself that Sydney has to go home. But my body has taken over, forcing out her name, securing her spot here. And finally, my body stops fighting me. My shoulders drop and my throat relaxes.
God dammit.
I need to keep her safe.
I need to keep her out of Scarlett’s clutches.
But it’s too late now. I’ve spoken her name, and she’s walking toward me, her limp barely noticeable.
“Sydney,” I say, heart racing, “will you continue this search for love with me?”
This close, the flecks of golden candlelight reflecting in her eyes steal the breath from my lungs.
“I will,” she whispers, her voice husky.
It reminds me of a different night, when pleasure and firelight glowed in those emerald depths.
I pass her the compass. Her fingers skim mine as she accepts it, creating ripples of awareness that travel up my arm and to my chest.
“Thank you,” she murmurs, easing up to brush a kiss on my cheek.
I want to slam my mouth to hers. Taste the deep pink color until I find the real her again.
But by some miracle, I control the urge. I lean back and eye Roman, who steps forward again while Sydney moves back into place.
Across the room, Kendall’s face is mottled red, her eyes narrowed and darting from me to Sydney and back.
“Kendall,” Roman says, “I’m sorry—”
“This show is fucking bullshit,” she shouts.
“You’re not fucking sorry. And neither is he.
” She points a crimson-tipped fingernail in my direction.
“But you will be. I’ll make sure everyone knows what a piece of shit fucking joke this show is.
You think this is ‘real’? Yeah, right. Everyone with a pair of fucking eyeballs can see that he’s only interested in her. ”
Her finger moves from me to Sydney.
The urge to step between the two women rushes over me, but I force myself to remain in place. The last thing I want is to cause Kendall to direct any more of her ire toward Sydney.
Is this who Kendall has been all along? I considered her a wildcard, not a drama queen. Her rage is palpable even from across the room. It reminds me of the damage done to Sydney’s dress.
My eyes drop to the red-tipped nails. Is Kendall Scarlett?
I scan the area for Danny. Surely he’s seeing this too. Eventually I find my bodyguard hugging the wall, looking panicked, as Kendall continues her tirade.
“Getting stranded in a remote cabin together? That was probably a setup,” she screeches. “I can’t fucking wait to see that part of the show. I’m sure it’ll be super fucking eye opening.”
Thank God the camera malfunctioned during our picnic. And that we were alone at the cabin. I zero in on Sydney, who is studying Kendall calmly, like she’s not concerned about anything the woman says.
Because she’s a badass.
“Kendall, it’s time for you to leave.” Mara steps forward, a member of show security entering the room.
“Call off your goon, you bitch. I wouldn’t stay here if you paid me. Later, losers.” With a middle finger salute, Kendall stalks out of the room.
A gust of air escapes me. Jesus Christ.
Bullet fucking dodged.
Damn, I should have gotten rid of her long ago.
Not that I’ve seen the real her until now.
“Danny,” I call.
He’s deep in conversation with Alicia, so he doesn’t look my way.
Mara speaks quietly to security, who quickly follows Kendall from the room.
“Forget this. This job isn’t worth it,” Danny nearly yells.
Alicia grasps his arm, but he shakes free and hurries from the room.
Alicia looks at me, her face a mask of shock.
What the fuck?
My bodyguard just quit? Can he do that?
“Cy, how about you tell the ladies where we’re heading next?” Mara says.
The cameras are still rolling. This is going to be one hell of a job for the editing department.
I shake my head and center myself, readying to slip back into character.
Only I can’t. How the hell do I pretend that everything is normal after that?
Sydney watches me, a smile twitching at the curve of her lips. Unpredictable as ever.
I can’t wait to introduce her to Gramps.
“I’ve enjoyed spending time with you here in Big Bear, but I’m a warm weather boy at heart. And my heart has a Texas twang. I hope you packed your cowboy boots, ladies, because we’re heading to Texas.”
My family agreed to host the show for the next week. I haven’t been home in sixteen years, but rather than stressing about how that will go, I’m wondering what a big city girl like Sydney will think of my roots.