I’m lost on all things Joey right now, and it’s only when I see Cole and Millie being congratulated do I realize we’ve lost and the game is over. Cole looks excited and Millie looks nervous. I don’t blame either of them. Millie is a pretty woman, but she doesn’t hold a candle to Joey.
Holy shit, what the hell is wrong with me? I need to stop thinking like that. She’s a friend … just a friend.
I have never felt so much anger toward anyone that I can imagine his or her head exploding until now. Visions of my mother’s head popping off and bursting like a watermelon appear each time I close my eyes. Not even when I found Tony and my former best friend slash maid of honor playing doctor, did I feel this much anger. How can a mother do this to her daughter? I know she had no idea that I’d be paired with my celebrity crush—the man I have imagined doing wicked things to—that Joshua Wilson would end up being my husband. I’m sure she’s sitting at home just waiting for the scenes to play out where Joshua Freaking Wilson and I fall madly in love and have wild and crazy monkey sex.
Sorry, Mom, it’s never going to happen, and why? Because my “husband” doesn’t want to have anything to do with me, that’s why. Yet, he continues to touch me and each touch sends the most glorious chills down my spine. Each touch is longer than the last, giving me false hope, only for him to open his mouth and have some stupid comment spew out—like how he likes my perfume.
He’s my fantasy. He’s my dream come true. Millions of women wish they were me right now, and all I want to be is them, at home with my pint of Ben and Jerry’s watching this show and hoping that the people on here are finding true love and some sort of happiness in this crazy, messed-up world where we have to resort to reality television to find a lover.
For one brief moment, when I opened my eyes and saw that Joshua was standing in front of me with his hand on my cheek and possibly dizzy from kissing me, I thought I was getting my fairytale. Passing out, of course, wasn’t part of said fairytale, but being romanced by him was. I thought I was going to find my own piece of happiness, to prove that I am worthy enough to be loved by someone like Joshua. Clearly, Tony couldn’t love me the way I deserved. Weeks before our wedding, he was caught cheating. His confession was one that I didn’t want to hear, but listened to anyway as tears clouded my vision. He had been cheating since before he proposed and thought that once he did, he could stop, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know if it was the thrill or the fact that he had been able to keep a drunken night turned torrid affair a secret for so long. Tony said he didn’t love her and that she was a mistake, but I find that hard to believe. If she didn’t mean anything, how could he have been sleeping with her for so long? She was my best friend, and she knew how I felt about Tony, yet she crossed the line. I’ll never forgive them. They have forever branded me with a stigma, and have put me in that awkward position where every time I look my family members in the eyes, the sympathy in them is clear as they ask how I’m doing.
Today I want to tell them I’m doing fan-flipping-tastic, but I’m not. This is going to end up being yet another failure to add to my list. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I don’t love them enough or can’t show it in a way that binds them to me. I’m probably broken and unfixable.
As soon as the competition is over, I’m back in the house heading toward the bathroom. From past episodes, I know it’s the only place where one can find peace and quiet without a microphone hanging overhead or a video camera capturing our most embarrassing moments, although our body mics are on and subtitles are added for your viewing pleasure.
Joshua is hot on my tail, and I get that he’s trying to stay close to me. For what, I don’t know. Everything with him is awkward and fake. He doesn’t need to pretend to be happy to be here. He has a mission. He’s here to win for his foundation. I just don’t think he realizes the ramifications of spending three months with someone that you have to grow close to. I don’t care if you try to turn off your feelings, it doesn’t work. At some point your brain and heart stop communicating and your heart takes over, especially when only one of us is an actor. I’m not trained for this.
Needing a few minutes to gather myself, I shut the door before he can follow me in. I’m going to have to figure out my game plan with him fairly quickly. I need to find a way to hate the guy who is standing outside this door right now and play like him. As much as I’ve fantasized about marrying him, it was just that, a fantasy, and now that it’s really happened, I don’t know how to deal with it.
“Joey?” His voice is muffled, and I can only guess that he’s trying to be quiet. I want to tell him to go away, but that will be caught on camera, and I want to win as badly as he does. When I crack open the door, he slips in. The last place I want to talk to him is in here, but I’m not ready to face the other couples. They both look like they’ve gotten to know each other, and I’m slightly jealous.
“What’s going on?”
I roll my eyes, telling myself that he’s acting. He’s a great actor, so this comes easily for him. I shake my head, only for him to step closer. There are so many things I’ve dreamt of doing to him. I should just do it, right? I mean, this is my opportunity to be bold and make a statement. Technically, he’s my husband. He at least owes me one toe-curling kiss. I can’t leave this house without some memory of what his lips taste like against mine.
He’s either going to catch me or push me away. Fear be damned. I launch myself into him, and my arms lock behind his head as my legs step in between his. There’s no hesitation in my actions, and I don’t give him any time to react. The velvety touch of his lips is enough to keep me going. He’s going to be an addiction I won’t be able to beat. My hands loosen and slide to his shoulders, my fingers kneading his muscles as his tongue traces my lips. My mouth opens, allowing him in, and I welcome the fact that he’s pursuing this kiss, not me. He’s taking charge.
Joshua’s fingers glide over my cheek until he’s cupping my face. Heat spreads where his fingers had just been. His arm holds me close, his hand cupping my ass. I moan into his mouth when our tongues touch. This kiss is everything I thought it would be and more. I plunge my fingers into his hair, pulling lightly. His lips leave mine as he hisses, showing me so much more of himself than anyone else in the house will ever get to see. Joshua brings me closer; grinding my hips against his as our heads move back and forth in the most epic make-out session I’ve ever been a part of.
Voices outside the door force us apart. I rest my head against his shoulder as our chests move together from our laborious breathing. I wasn’t expecting a kiss like that, but I’m so ecstatic that I have it burned into my memory. I’ll need it when I’m home alone, reading over my divorce papers.
Joshua taps my side before kissing the top of my head. “We need to talk about that kiss,” he whispers into my hair.
Shaking my head, I disengage from his hold. “There’s nothing to talk about. That is something I’ve wanted to do for a very long time, and I just did it.”
“What do you mean?”
Closing my eyes, I cover my face. I shouldn’t have said anything and only agreed with him. Joshua tugs on my arms, pulling my hands away from my face. I keep my head down, mentally counting the tiles on the floor. The last thing I wanted to do was embarrass myself, but I’ve done it. He places his finger under my chin and pushes lightly until we’re eye to eye.
“Joey, please tell me.”
I feel like I want to cry, but I refuse to show him any weakness. I take a deep, shuddering breath and look him square in the eyes. “You’re on my list, my hall pass if you will. You’re my number one celebrity crush. Two days ago I was watching an interview you gave about falling in love, and I kept rewinding it because I felt sorry for myself and thought ‘wow, he just needs to fall in love with me’ because I believed I could be the one for you in my messed up fantasy world. And now look at us. Here I am and we’re married, which I find so bizarre, but there will be no taming you. You’re here for one reason only, and it’s not to find a wif
e.”
His hand drops, and he steps back. I look down at the ground again, afraid to see his expression morph into something horrid. He’s probably trying to remember the contract and what situations allow us out of the marriage and the house early. Sadly for him, I don’t think having a wife as your stalker counts since he’s the first celebrity to come on the show.
Joshua slides his hands into his pockets, and I don’t know if it’s a relief for me that he won’t be touching me any time soon or more heartache because he doesn’t want me touching him.
“I never thought it’d be a possibility that I’d marry a fan.”
I laugh out loud, which sounds more like a bark. Great. I can’t even laugh like a normal person around him. “Yeah, well, if I knew you were a possibility, I probably wouldn’t have gone up there.”
“Why did you?”
“Technically, I didn’t,” I say, looking at him. I have to tread lightly here. I can tell him my story, or I can sugarcoat it as an overbearing mother who thought I’d find the man of my dreams on this show. “I was engaged, and he cheated. I found out right before the wedding and had to move back home. My mom … I love her, but she’s nuts. She submitted everything and didn’t tell me until I got the call. Well, she got the call and packed my bags. My dad was there, though, to walk me down the aisle. My mom thought I’d find my soul mate or the man of my dreams. She’s probably on the phone to her bridge friends telling them all about my sordid infatuation with you.”
Joshua grows quiet, and the voices that we heard earlier are no longer lingering outside the door. Who knows what they’re thinking, but I’m tempted to mess up my hair just to get them talking. I lean against the sink, crossing my ankles. I could leave and go join the others, but being in this confined space, even though its torture is worth it.
“That was a really good kiss we shared.”
“Yeah, definitely one for the memory book,” I reply, bringing my fingers to my lips.
“We should probably kiss more.” I look at him questioningly. “You know, for the cameras and other houseguests. We can’t have them thinking we don’t get along.”
I nod. “So kissing is okay, but no sex?”
He looks at me for a moment before he diverts his eyes. “Yeah, kissing is good,” he says before walking out of the bathroom.
That kiss is something I’ll never forget. Her lips are burnt into my memory. The way her fingers played with my hair made me feel like I was having an out-of-body experience. I’ve never felt shivers before from having my hair played with. I have to share a room with her later. We’ll be in the same bed, under the same covers with possible body parts touching and the lights off. We’re liable to move closer to each other as we shift in our sleep. Maybe a pillow between us will help us ward off any unexpected touching. I mean, if I’m sleeping I can’t be held accountable for what my hand does, not to mention the morning wood I’ll likely be sporting, and if it’s anything like the hard-on I have now, I’m doomed.
My goal in this house is to concentrate, and I can’t let some woman knock me off the rails, even if that woman is my wife and we have to live together and pretend we’re in wedded bliss. So what if my wife is tall with a rocking body that I’ve only seen with clothes on and know my eyes will bug out of my head the first time I see any bit of hidden skin? Who cares that I really liked kissing her and want to do it over and over again?
I don’t want to like her, at least not like that. Yes, I’m attracted to her. Who wouldn’t be? First of all, I’m a red-blooded male, and chicks are hot. Second of all, she’s sexy as hell. Not that hell is meant to be sexy, but I love that she’s natural; no layers of make-up covering her face, no plastic added or fake tits being pushed up into her neck. No ozone-killing chemicals holding her hair in place. Those are the things that matter, especially as I’m standing here picturing my hands cupping her face and my lips kissing every bit of exposed skin.
Joey comes out of the bathroom, passing me without eye contact or even acknowledging me. That stings a little, to be honest. We have to show a united front, especially in front of the cameras. Next week when we win the master suite, we can be true to ourselves and sleep separately. I can take the couch, like every gentleman should. We just have to make it through this week as two people, who are married, trying to get to know each other. Unconventional? Yes, but doable.
I follow Joey and crash right into her, grabbing her hips just as she bends over to pick up her bag. I should let go and step back, but knowing that she fits perfectly against me has me holding on.
“Ahem!”
Joey springs up, almost smacking me in the face with her head. We both look at the voice to find Gary standing at the mouth of the hallway. I should let go of her hips, but I see the way he looks at Joey and everything is telling me to stake my claim.
“Already getting to know each other I see.”
His words are like nails going down a chalkboard. He’s not doing a very good job of hiding his jealousy. Is he jealous that I’m here, or that she’s married to me? I pull Joey a little tighter to my body before I address him.
“We’re married; why waste time?” I shrug and feel Joey stiffen. My comment will have to be discussed again in private. More ground rules we will need to define.
Gary looks around, as if he’s not supposed to be here right now. “I guess it’d be nice if my wife felt the same way.” He turns, leaving us alone.
I loosen my hold on her and she bends again to pick up her bag. However, I don’t allow her to swing her bag onto her shoulder before I take it from her.
“I got this.”
Smiling, she lifts my bag so I don’t have to pick it up. “We should select a room before Gary goes to get Amanda.”
I nod, figuring that Joey can choose the room she wants us in. I know I want the red room—it’s sexy and alluring, not that she and I need that, but it would be nice to spend our wedding night in there. “I’ll follow you,” I say, motioning toward the two rooms that are waiting for us. When she turns toward the red room, I sigh in relief. I’m not sure I can stay in the white room. It’s too bright and doesn’t exude sexiness. Not that the word sex should be on my mind, but again, I’m a guy, it’s there.
“Is this okay?” She spins on her foot and faces me. Everything about her posture tells me she’s comfortable. Her arms hang near her sides instead of on her hips. She’s giving me a choice when I gave her the go ahead to make the decision for us. I want to touch her, maybe hold her hand or tackle her onto the bed and tickle her. Either action would curb my curiosity on what it would be like to touch her, or to have her pressed against my body for a moment, until I need more.
“I think this is perfect,” I answer, setting the bags down. There really isn’t a need to unpack since we move from room to room every week. That is definitely something I don’t like about this show. It’d be nice to have a private place that we’re familiar with so we can spend some quality time with each other. Getting to know her will have to be done in front of the other newlyweds and the cameras.
I pretend to look around the room, anything to avoid making eye contact with her. I thought I’d be a little more freaked out about her revelation. I’ve encountered some crazy fans, and I never thought in a million years I’d be in the situation I am in now, especially with a fan, but it’s safe to say she doesn’t scare me. She intrigues me, though, and I like feeling that way about her. I want to know her more, inside and out. Find out what makes her tick and what defines the person that she is.
Truthfully, the fact that she isn’t afraid of taking risks appeals to me though. When she jumped into my arms and kissed me, it felt damn good, almost too good, and I thought about taking things further. Unfortunately, sending the wrong message wouldn’t be the smart thing to do. I have to maintain a level head at all times. When we’re alone, the wall is up. The fortress is locked down and the bridge to cross the moat is raised. I can’t let her in because I’m afraid if I do, I won’t be able to get her out.
“I think we’re supposed to get to know the other newlyweds.” Her voice breaks through my inner ramblings, and I’m thankful. I think I could listen to her talk all day if given the chance. Turning to face her, I find that she’s standing by the door with her hands clasped in front of her. I study her, taking her in. She looks like a runner with her long legs. They’re toned with clearly defined muscles. I make a mental note to ask her to workout with me one of these days, but I’m fearful she may be able to squat more than I can. It’s sad to say, but I’d be okay with that. Her smile isn’t forced, but genuine and lights up her entire face. She’s happy to be here, or happy that I’m her husband for the time being. Either way, I’m happy she’s mine as well.
Walking toward her, I put my hand on her back. It’s a guise to touch her, not to guide her. I have a feeling she’d lead me anywhere I asked, and I’d follow without hesitation. I hope that, if anything, we’ll be friends after all of this because even after knowing her for a few hours, I can tell it’s not going to be enough.
We enter the common room, or as non-reality-television people would call it, the living room. There are three large couches, I’m assuming one for each of us, with a plasma TV attached to the wall. We don’t have access to it, but I do remember last season’s couples watching a movie or two. I’m thinking a horror movie might be in order, at least one night, so it forces the automatic cuddling rule. The common area is open and leads into the kitchen. We have a dining room table and also an island with bar stools. Aside from being outside earlier, we haven’t been in the backyard. If they keep with the theme from last season, there’s a pool, weights, a lounge area, and a pool table.
Thoughts of teaching Joey to play pool enter my mind. Having her bent over the table while I sidle up behind her …
Blind Reality Page 4
