Summer of Love

Chapter 2

Declan

The car ride to the villa was quiet and cold, the aircon blowing full blast against the Spanish summer.

Feeling underdressed in his swim trunks, Declan did his best to ignore the goosebumps springing up on his skin as he peered out the window.

It was his first view of Mallorca and his last glimpse of the outside world before entering the villa that would be his home for the next eight weeks.

Eight weeks. It was the first time he’d fully registered how long he’d be gone.

Declan had always been good in press conferences, could play off reporters with an easy rapport, but those only lasted a few hours.

This show would be the longest performance of his life, and he wasn’t sure he could do it.

But Georgia had been convincing, reminding him that having options was only ever a good thing – and gaining a few million followers on Instagram would certainly give him options.

Declan knew his competitive streak would win out; he wouldn’t let himself get voted off just to be spared the constant scrutiny.

Declan King didn’t lose.

As soon as he’d adjusted to the cold, the SUV stopped in front of the villa.

It was smaller than it looked on TV, but he supposed that was probably a trick of the camera angle.

It was still a nice house, the giant two-storey glass entryway providing a dramatic focal point for the otherwise traditional Spanish architecture.

The driver nodded and Declan opened the car door, stepping out onto the hot asphalt.

There were cameramen on either side of the driveway, their lenses fixed on him as he collected himself.

He kept his chin up, surveying the scene through his sunglasses.

Desperately trying to look like he knew what he was doing, he started towards the house.

As he got closer, he caught sight of a young producer with curly hair waving him over from beside the garden gate.

‘Hey, Declan,’ she said smoothly, and he recalled that her name was Paige.

She pushed a mic set into his hands.

‘Here, clip this to your trunks and put the necklace over your head. They’re finishing up with Niall, then you’ll be next.

How are you feeling?’

‘Yeah, good,’ he replied, distracted.

He struggled to get the clip secured but finally managed, fiddling with the wiring.

‘Great! One more moment,’ she said, bringing one side of her headset to her ear and listening intently.

‘Ready on my mark.’

A rush of adrenaline hit him all at once, like he was about to enter the ring.

He bounced from one leg to the other, trying to dispel the excess energy.

He brought one smooth, even breath into his chest and held it there for a beat, and another, letting it out slow and easy.

Selling the show was what he’d always excelled at.

‘And… you’re on,’ Paige said.

The patio gate swung open and she nudged him forwards, muttering, ‘You’ll see them out by the kitchen.’

He walked around a curtain of greenery and was met with the familiar view of the villa’s spacious garden.

A glistening pool sat in the centre of the lawn, with a firepit on one side and an open-air kitchen on the other.

Daybeds were sprinkled throughout, and a large couch swing sat under a pergola on the back wall.

‘Hello?’ he called out, wandering down the steps.

‘Another one!’ came an excited voice, and a grinning black man with toned arms and a slight beer belly came bounding over.

He threw an arm around Declan, pulling him into a half-hug and leading him to the others.

‘I’m Jack,’ the man said, his arm still around Declan’s shoulders.

He gestured towards a man with a sharp nose and a quizzical brow.

‘That’s Callum.’

‘Hi,’ Callum said flatly.

Declan couldn’t figure out if he was scowling or if his face settled into that pinched look naturally.

‘Are you Declan King?’

He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck in an attempt to appear sheepish.

Callum squinted at him.

‘I thought you’d be taller.’

Declan resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

It was a comment he’d heard before – at five foot ten he was hardly short, but it seemed that his reputation made Declan King, the boxer, a larger-than-life figure in the public eye.

Something that Declan King, the man, struggled to live up to.

‘And I thought you’d have a face for radio, Callum,’ Jack quipped.

Callum’s scowl grew even more pronounced.

‘No wonder your stand-up career hasn’t taken off.’

Jack laughed good-naturedly as Declan turned to take stock of the competition.

His eyes were immediately drawn to the man from the plane.

Oliver’s hair was a mess, as if he’d been running his hands through it.

Declan wondered if it was from nerves or if he knew how attractive he looked when his curls hung slightly out of place.

‘That one’s Oliver,’ Jack said, noticing Declan’s attention had shifted.

‘Hey there,’ Oliver said, his eyes skimming over Declan and then across the garden distractedly.

‘Nice to meet you,’ Declan said, choosing to forget their previous encounter and doing his best to not stare at the toned body that had been hidden under frumpy clothes.

‘And this big hunk of meat,’ Jack said, nodding to the final man, ‘is Niall.’

‘Declan,’ Niall bellowed, his Irish lilt coming out thick, ‘good to meet you! I’m a big fan.’

Declan smiled genuinely at that.

‘Do you box yourself?’ he asked.

Niall was a beast of a man, whose arms bore an impressive collection of tattoos, and nose looked like it may have been broken before, so it was a fair question.

Niall let out a booming laugh.

‘Not in the slightest,’ he said.

‘More into healing than hurting. I’m a physical therapist.’

Declan found himself reconsidering his first impression, noticing Niall’s kind eyes and easy smile.

Still, there were other factors to consider when it came to sizing up the competition.

‘Do I know you from somewhere?’ he asked smoothly.

‘TikTok?’

‘Nah, can’t be bothered with all that.

My sister keeps me up to date with the trends, though.’

‘That so?’ Declan asked, amused.

Niall shrugged. ‘But I caught the fight against Petrovitch, looked brutal. How’s the wrist?’

he asked with concern, nodding towards Declan’s arm.

Declan took a deep breath.

He had been out of the ring for nearly five months now, much longer than he had ever thought he’d be, and he had known there would be questions.

He gave them the line he’d practised with his father.

‘It was a tricky break,’ he said, rotating his wrist to demonstrate his full range of motion and ignoring the accompanying pain.

‘But I’m mostly healed.

Figured I’d take the summer off before getting back to it, give the other lads a chance to win some matches.’

His eyes inadvertently met Oliver’s, and he was surprised to find sympathy in the sharp planes of his face.

Declan’s stomach twisted uncomfortably, but he kept his expression impassive as the clacking of heels saved him from having to change the subject.

‘Hello, boys,’ came a sing-song voice.

Darcy Meadows, the show’s host, was perched in a pair of impossibly high stilettos, her platinum hair blinding.

She gave the men a dazzling smile, waving them towards the pool and directing them to line up.

‘Hello, Darcy, darling,’ Declan said, letting his northern accent grow thicker as he winked.

He was grateful to be getting to the part of the show he knew he’d be good at: charming the pants off the audience.

‘Ooh,’ Darcy said, clearly delighted, ‘the girls will have to watch out for you.’ She turned to the rest of the men with a suddenly grim expression.

‘A quick word of advice before we get started… Your producers can only do so much to help you. You all know that the viewers rule this show. You’ll never be sure when an elimination is coming, so every night’s episode is a chance to create a compelling storyline for yourself.

If the audience buys it, you’re safe.

If they think you’re insincere or boring, you’ll be voted off.’

Declan looked around and saw he wasn’t the only one shaken by the abrupt turn to seriousness.

‘This may be reality TV, but there’s a fine line between what’s real and what’s not.

Be sure you walk it carefully.’

Declan’s producer, Brian, gave Darcy a cue and her smile reappeared with jarring suddenness.

‘Welcome to Summer of Love, boys! Are you ready to meet your girls?’

After a confused pause, the men cheered affirmatively, and Darcy turned to the closest camera.

‘Our expert matchmakers have paired you each with the perfect girl.’ She smirked.

‘We’ll see how well they did in the next few weeks, once each relationship has been tested.’

Declan doubted these so-called matchmakers even existed – he assumed the producers had paired them up for optimal drama.

He knew from his sporadic viewing of the show that the original couples rarely lasted.

Darcy looked to the garden gate.

‘Let’s see the girls!

Stella, dear, would you come out?’

Stella was stunning, with dark skin, shiny waves and a genuine air that immediately made Declan hope she wouldn’t be paired up with him.

There were always a few contestants who seemingly came on the show to find love, and Declan had vowed to himself that he wouldn’t get involved with a girl like that.

The only way he could go through with what would come next was to find someone as fake as him.

‘I can tell you all want her,’ Darcy sing-songed, ‘but only one of you can have her. And that lucky boy is…’ She paused to wink at the camera.

‘Our resident hunky Irishman, Niall!’

Stella walked over to Niall, enveloping him in a hug before stepping back and beaming up at him.

‘Niall,’ Paige called over, ‘could you put an arm around her?’

The pair shifted as the cameraman got a few different angles.

It almost hurt to look at them, with how perfectly they were matched.

Declan worried he’d discounted Niall too soon, that he and Stella had already become the ones to beat.

‘Got it!’ Paige finally called.

Darcy plastered on a smile.

‘Let’s meet our next girl, Holly!’

Holly was a tall blonde with lean muscles peeking out from her sleek black swimsuit.

As she walked out, she met each of the boys’ eyes indifferently.

Declan supposed she was trying to be intimidating.

‘Holly,’ Darcy said, ‘you’ve been paired up with Jack.

Hope you don’t make it into his next stand-up set!’

Holly considered Jack for a beat, her eyes narrowed.

He gave her a small, awkward wave, and a hint of a smile played at her lips.

She made her way over to him and was pulled into a bear hug as Paige directed the cameraman.

After a moment, she gave Darcy a thumbs-up.

‘Great,’ Darcy said.

‘Maeve, come on out!’

A short, olive-skinned girl strode down to the pool.

As she drew closer, Declan was struck by her big brown eyes and full lips.

She was dressed in a simple black bikini and a matching wide-brimmed hat, somehow making the ensemble look regal.

If Declan wanted to win, which he desperately did, Maeve would be a good match, so long as she wasn’t looking for anything real.

‘Hello, Darcy,’ Maeve said, giving the host a shy smile.

‘Well, you’ve turned some heads, love,’ Darcy said.

Declan glanced around and saw Callum, Jack and Oliver all wearing similar lovestruck expressions.

‘But only one of these boys can begin the show with you, and that lucky boy is… the voice of the UK’s tenth most-listened-to podcast, Callum!’

Callum punched the air as Maeve looked him over dubiously.

Darcy glanced at Paige, and Declan could see the impatience written across her face.

Actress, she was not.

‘Maeve, dear,’ Paige said.

‘Could you…’

‘Let’s keep going.’

Darcy unsubtly pushed Maeve towards Callum before calling out, ‘Come out and meet the boys, Lara!’

A striking woman with long black cornrows walked towards the pool.

She scanned the line of boys, and when her eyes fell on Declan, she smiled in recognition.

‘Well, Declan, it looks like you have a fangirl,’ Darcy said.

‘Which is perfect, because you two have been matched up!’

Declan smiled wide, knowing the cameras were capturing his every movement.

He could only hope that Lara’s ecstatic expression was because she wanted to be attached to his fanbase when the audience’s votes came in at the end of the week and had nothing to do with him as a person.

Lara came over and he obediently put an arm around her shoulder, turning to the closest camera.

‘Here we go, everyone!’ Darcy said, with renewed energy.

‘Let’s meet our last girl, Zoe!’

A petite woman in a sporty swim set stepped out, her long, dark ponytail bouncing as she walked.

Declan recognised her as an influencer, though he couldn’t quite place her, and knew instantly she was exactly who he was looking for.

He also knew it would make for a much better storyline to not be paired up with her from the beginning – the producers had given him the perfect opportunity to pursue her, to have to fight for her.

The viewers loved that crap.

‘Everyone’s favourite fitness girl!’

Darcy announced. ‘Zoe, you’ll have loads to chat about with Oliver over here, since he’s a ballet dancer.’

Declan suppressed a snort.

Here was the most damning piece of evidence that matchmakers had been nowhere to be found when the contestants had been coupled up.

There couldn’t be a worse match than an influencer and a guy like Oliver, who looked like he’d wandered off the set of Bake Off having just bungled the technical challenge.

As Zoe dutifully walked to Oliver’s side, Darcy turned back to the camera, looking as relieved as Declan felt to be done with this part of the proceedings.

‘Fantastic!’ Darcy said.

She reintroduced the couples to the cameras, then turned back to the contestants.

‘Over the next eight weeks, we’ll see hook-ups, breakdowns and heartbreaks as our Lovers try to navigate their way into the couple of their dreams…

and the hearts of our viewers.’

She turned to look directly at the camera.

‘Tune in nightly to vote for your favourites and send others sailing home in defeat, on this season of Summer of Love !’

Paige immediately dissolved the scene, shuffling the girls upstairs to get ready for the first night party and instructing the boys to chat by the pool.

‘So,’ Jack said, once the boys had settled into a circle.

‘Let’s have it, what do we think of the girls?’

‘I think Oliver’s got the best of the lot,’ Callum said, shooting Oliver a sour look.

‘Zoe is quite talented,’ Niall said, frowning at Callum.

‘My sister loves her videos; she does the workouts every morning. But I think all the women seem like wonderful people.’

‘Oh,’ Declan said, finally placing her.

‘She’s Zoe Park!’

He regretted having said anything when Oliver caught his eye, his forehead wrinkling in confusion.

‘Who?’

‘She’s got like half a million followers on YouTube,’ Jack said, and Declan was relieved when Oliver’s attention shifted away from him.

‘Huh,’ Oliver said. ‘I’m not really online, but that sounds cool.’

Declan stared at him.

Zoe couldn’t possibly be on the show to find love, and someone like Oliver couldn’t be there for any other reason.

There was no way they would last, which made her perfect for his plans.

‘Well, Maeve is a catch too,’ Jack said to Callum.

‘I recognise her… didn’t she date the Prince of Jordan?’

‘She can’t be that well-connected,’ Callum said dismissively.

‘She didn’t even know The High-Value Man .’

Declan snorted – Callum didn’t seem to realise his podcast hadn’t made the mainstream.

He noticed Oliver’s lips twitch as though he was trying to hide a grin, but his face shuttered when their eyes met.

Callum rounded on Declan.

‘Why are you even here?’ he asked.

‘I thought you already had a girl. The hot one, Georgia something.’

‘Hastings,’ Declan supplied.

‘And we’re just mates.’

The line came out reflexively, but where he’d usually try to inject it with a note of coyness, this time it fell flat.

Callum had hit on the confusing part of his friendship with Georgia: through strategic public appearances, social media posts and brand deals, they had been suggesting to the public for years that they were romantically involved.

The truth was they never had been, since Georgia was the one person outside of his family who knew Declan King, the man half the English population worshipped for his skills in the ring, was gay.

‘Sure,’ Callum said, smirking.

‘I’d love to have a mate like that.’

He elbowed Declan’s side and laughed as if they were sharing an inside joke.

Declan gritted his teeth, keeping his face relaxed.

The last thing he wanted was to give the tabloids something to say about his temper; they would have a field day with that one.

The drawback of trying to make people believe you were dating your best friend, even if you never explicitly confirmed it, was that it was impossible to get them to stop.

He and Georgia had always been careful to play it on the right side of deniability, but that hadn’t been enough to stop rampant rumours.

What had started as a lark to keep the press off his back had turned into something with real-world consequences.

‘Don’t be crass,’ Jack said, side-eyeing Callum.

‘And Holly?’ Niall asked Jack, clearly trying to tactfully change the subject.

‘What do you make of her?’

Jack clapped his hands together.

‘Not sure yet, mate. She seems like a cool bird, maybe too cool for me. But I think I can crack her tough exterior with my lovable charm.’ He threw his head back with forced laughter.

‘I do believe she and I will just be in it for a laugh. But who knows? The night is young and the women are lush.’

‘Stella may be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,’ Niall said, his eyes wistful.

‘That she is, mate,’ Jack agreed.

‘And lucky for you, you friendly fucking giant, none of us have got the balls to go after her with you standing in our way.’

‘Language!’ the closest PA called out.

‘Well, fuck,’ Oliver quipped.

‘There goes half my vocabulary.’

He said it with a self-deprecating smile that looked more like a wince.

Niall and Jack laughed good-naturedly, but Declan found himself staring again.

Oliver was absent-mindedly drumming his fingers along the tops of his knees, staring at the skyline.

The setting sun cast a warm light on his face, catching the golden strands of his curls and giving his eyes an incandescent gleam.

‘What about you, King?’ Jack asked.

‘You didn’t say who you’ve got your eye on.’

Declan blinked at him, refocusing.

‘You’re mad if you think I’d tell you lot,’ he said blandly.

He managed to not look at Oliver for the rest of the night.