Chapter 4
Chapter four
The next morning opens with a headache. The sun slices through the room’s curtains, mocking my lack of sleep. I’m sure the tension coiled in my gut after I saw that limo pull away with Lyssa and Tyler didn’t help me relax. It gave me fucking nightmares.
What the hell did they do all day? The crew refused to say a word and kept us locked down, pacing the house like caged wolves.
I lace up my boots, grab my coat, and head out to the dining lodge for breakfast. Ethan’s already there.
“Morning, boss,” he points to the open space across from him and slides over a mug. “I’m in the room next to Marcus, who was hacking up a lung all night, so I doubt I got more than a few hours of sleep. What about you?”
“Didn’t hear him, but I barely slept,” I grunt, sliding onto the bench and pour a cup of coffee. “Marcus will be okay. He probably needs some rest and whiskey.”
Jake chuckles from across the table, spreading butter on his toast. “So, anyone have intel on today’s group date?”
Blake shakes his head. “Nah, but Elena said, and I’m quoting her directly, ‘expect something fun and flirty’. Lyssa’s joining in.”
My pulse ticks up. This is my chance to remind her why we fit. But with nine other guys fighting for her attention, it’ll be a damn circus. I gulp my coffee, ignoring the burn, and push back from the table. “Let’s get to it, then.”
An hour later, we’re herded into a large, heated structure tucked behind the lodge.
Fairy lights are strung up as though it’s a party instead of a battlefield.
Snow’s piled high around the edges, but the ground’s cleared and covered in yoga mats scattered like patchwork quilts.
The crew has the cameras already set up, and the sound guy is hooking up microphones.
Elena struts in with her clipboard in hand.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen!” she greets with a suspiciously perky grin.
“Welcome to our group date: ‘Twist and Tease’, a flirty yoga challenge! You’ll pair up, learn poses to build trust and chemistry.
Then, we have a relay planned to see who can hold the steamiest partner pose the longest. The winner gets a private sunset cocktail hour with her tonight, and don’t worry, Lyssa will be rotating in with all of you. ”
Yoga? I freeze. Twisting into pretzels. Wearing spandex?
That’s my nightmare. I’m built for climbing cliffs in storms, not downward dogs.
I scan my competitors who appear completely unbothered.
Ethan flexes, and I don’t blame him; we’re on his turf.
Jake smirks confidently. But me? I’m the biggest man here.
My muscles are used to hauling gear up icy slopes, not bending in ways that make my hamstrings scream.
But if it gets me close to Lyssa, fine. I’ll bend. Literally.
The instructors roll in with doom, and a perky woman in leggings hands out—God help me—tight yoga pants for all the contestants. “Change up, boys!” another one chirps. “Let’s get loose and limber!”
I duck into a changing tent, grumbling as I shimmy into the damn things.
They hug every inch, leaving nothing to the imagination.
I step out and unfortunately catch my reflection in a mirror propped against a tree.
And just as I suspected, it isn’t pretty.
But it is what it is: six-four of muscle crammed into black spandex, with a wild beard, the spitting image of a lumberjack who wandered into a gym ad.
The guys are already on their mats, laughing and striking poses.
Old Tyler’s fresh off his date with Lyssa, and has the glow of someone who just hit the jackpot.
Ethan does a mock warrior stance, nearly toppling over.
Blake adjusts his waistband with a wink at the camera, and me?
I cross my arms, feeling exposed, with the fabric pulling tight across my thighs and chest.
Then Lyssa arrives, and my discomfort evaporates.
She’s in a fitted tank top that clings to her curves, emerald green like her eyes, paired with high-waisted leggings that accentuate her hips and thighs.
Blonde waves tied back in a ponytail. No makeup, just that natural glow, cheeks pink from the cold.
She’s effortlessly sexy, as usual. Unfortunately, every other man on the planet will know how perfect she is after this show airs.
“Morning, gentlemen,” she says in an extra cheerful tone that sends my Spidey senses reeling.
“What have you and the producers cooked up for us?”
She giggles, locking onto my stare longer than she needs to. “Ready to get flexible?”
The group erupts in cheers, and I still don’t take my eyes off her. “For you? Always.”
Elena claps. “Time to pair up, gentlemen. We’ll rotate Lyssa through. The first pose is Warrior Two, a test of strength and focus.
We scatter to our mats and I’m joined by Ethan, which considering the circumstances isn’t necessarily a bad thing. He’s a natural and guides me through the basics without being an asshole.
“Arms out, Creed. Like you’re drawing a bow.” I mimic, as my muscles protest when I lunge forward, with my front knee bent at ninety degrees, back leg straight and arms extended parallel to the ground. My quads burn, balance wobbling on the soft mat, but I hold the pose.
Jake slips, landing on his ass with a thud. Lyssa stops by Blake first and adjusts his hips with a gentle touch that makes him beam. Then she’s on to Jake, laughing as she helps him widen his stance. When she reaches us, she grins at Ethan, then turns to me.
“Creed, bend that front knee more. Like this.” She demonstrates by getting dangerously close to me. Fuck, she smells so good. She places a hand on my thigh, pressing lightly to help, and damn if it doesn’t send a jolt straight through me. I adjust, grunting. “This isn’t exactly chopping wood.”
She laughs. “No. But watching you try is fun, though.” She captures my stare, and for a second, the world fades, and it’s just us. I lean in, whispering, “Missed you yesterday. Whatever Tyler did, I can do better.”
Her breath hitches as she lifts her chin and looks me square in the eye. “Why are you really here, Creed? We were together for years and never made a full commitment. I don’t understand. Are you for real about this, or are you simply trying to make me feel uncomfortable?”
“Lyssa. I’m sorry the producers pulled the rug out from under you, but I’m serious as hell. Pretend we’ve never met. Give me the same chance as anyone else. I’ll prove to you how much I love you.”
She drops her gaze and then blinks up at me with misty eyes. “Truly?”
Now, for the first time since arriving, I see how upset she really is.
She has her heart set on this reality show.
“Yes. I felt I needed to be here before you reached any decision about spending the rest of your life with someone else. But if you prefer I leave, I’ll understand.
I’ll pack up and take off immediately. I don’t give a shit about pins or any roses, the only thing I care about is you. Do you want me to go?”
“Lyssa!” Jake waves. “I need your expertise over here!” Elena signals for Lyssa to go on to the next bachelor, and I’m treated to a regretful smile and an arm squeeze before she joins Jake. She didn’t ask me to leave, so I’m staying, no matter how painful this shit show is.
We move onto Sun Salutations next. My planks are solid from years of core work on the lines, but the forward folds are rough. My hamstrings are as tight as cables about to snap.
Marcus is struggling. Every time he tries to maintain a position, a cough rattles out of him. He powers through, but I catch him wiping sweat from his eyes, or are those tears? Poor bastard. The instructors keep encouraging him, but he’s clearly not at full strength.
The challenge ramps up; we switch partners, and I get Blake for a Tree Pose, where we have to hold each other for balance. This is fucking cruel. I have no inclination whatsoever to even touch Blake, or any of the guys for that matter. Thankfully, Lyssa rotates in.
“My turn with the mountain man.” She steps onto my mat and presses her back to my chest for a supported twist. Her soft, warm curves fit against me like puzzle pieces, and I wrap an arm around her waist to steady us, splaying my hand on her hip.
“Breathe with me,” she murmurs, her ribs expanding against my palm.
“Since you’re asking me to share your air, and you haven’t sent me packing yet, I guess that means you’re okay with me staying.”
“You would be correct. I can’t even believe you went through an audition and are bunking with everyone.”
“You’d be amazed at what I would do if it meant spending my life with you.”
“Then get busy.” She chuckles, twisting to face me slightly. Her eyes drop to my lips. The air thickens with electricity. I pull her closer, just a fraction, my thumb traces slow circles on her side through the silky fabric.
“Lys …” I growl in a low tone, dipping my head until my beard brushes her ear. “If you keep pressing back against me like this, I’m going to forget we’re on camera.”
She shivers, making her ass nestle tighter against my growing erection for one torturous second. “Maybe I want you to forget,” she whispers in a voice barely audible over the music and laughter. Before I can respond, Tyler butts in. God, give me patience.
We finally wrap the challenge and Ethan wins, which is fair. The guy’s a trainer, but Lyssa apparently hasn’t given up on me yet, because she pulls me aside.
“You were … intense out there. In a good way. I’m glad you’re here, Creed. Your presence will help me make the best decision.”
“Anything for you,” I say, brushing a sweaty strand of hair off her face. I’m only half-listening to the surrounding conversation. It’s impossible for me to concentrate while I’m so close to Lyssa. I haven’t had more than a few minutes with her since I arrived. “Tell me about yesterday.”
She hesitates before meeting my eyes. “Tyler’s sweet. We took a sleigh ride, had a picnic.”
“But … it wasn’t me.” Heat surges as I lean closer to her lips. Marcus coughs again behind us. It’s softer this time, but enough for everyone to turn to him.
He waves it off with a sheepish smile. “Sorry. Still kicking.”
I glance at him, then back to Lyssa, keeping my voice low. “I hope you don’t have your heart set on Marcus. His cold or flu is getting worse.”
She nods with concern in her expression. “Fingers crossed he’ll be okay. Now, where were we?”
I inch closer, find her hand and give it a secret squeeze. “I have no idea what the rules are here. To be honest, I don’t really care. The only thing I know is I’m dying to kiss you.”
She turns, curving her lips in that way that makes my heart slam. “Maybe we’ll have a little private time, mountain man.” I hold her gaze a second longer, letting the promise sink in, before she’s whisked away by the producers.
Later, when I’m in the privacy of my room, I dig out my phone, grateful I was able to smuggle it in, and text my oldest brother Zephyr.
Me:
I know she still loves me, but if I don’t work my way back into her life soon, I’m afraid I’ll lose her.
Zephyr:
Then stop being a chickenshit. This is your shot. Don’t blow it.
I stare at the screen. He’s right. This game just got real.