When she’s done, I stand and pull her with me. I put my arm around her, tugging her into my side. She relaxes into me and I use this opportunity to place a kiss on her forehead. “You kicked ass,” I tell her, praising the job she’s done. I’m not sure I would’ve been able to stay on the board.
“Thanks. I just hope it’s enough to win.”
“Me too.”
“Newlyweds, was that as fun to compete in as it was to watch?”
I want to say no, but I grumble a somewhat positive response.
“Cole and Mille, how many yellow balls do you have?”
“We have eighteen yellow balls,” Millie replies as I look at our bucket. I’m confident we’ve beaten not only them, but Gary and Amanda as well. When I look toward Bronx, he’s smirking. We can’t see into each other’s buckets, and that’s a bit unnerving to me. All I know is that we need to have just one more than they do.
“Joshua and Joey, how many pink balls do you have?”
I chuckle like a child because it seems like Patrick Jonas likes to draw the word out longer than he needs to.
Joey glares at me before clearing her throat. “We have twenty-four pink balls.”
I bite my tongue when she answers for fear she may end up stabbing me later on when no one is looking. There’s an audible sigh as Cole and Millie walk off the game platform.
“Josh and Joey, you’re currently in the lead.” I throw a fist pump into the air just for the viewers.
“Gary and Amanda, how many green balls do you have?”
“We have twenty green balls.” As soon as Amanda answers, they’re stepping off the platform before Patrick can go through his spiel. Now all eyes are on Bronx and Rebekah. My thinking is that they wouldn’t want to win the first competition because that could pit the house against them. But this is Bronx Taylor we’re talking about, and he doesn’t care who he steps on to get to the top.
“Bronx and Rebekah, how did you enjoy your first competition?”
“It was lovely, thank you.”
“She seems very prim and proper,” Joey whispers and I nod agreement, but not before I wonder why Joey cares.
“Tell us, how many red balls were you able to capture?”
Rebekah looks over her shoulder and beams at Bronx, causing my stomach to lurch. “We have twenty-five red balls,” Bronx states all too smugly for my liking.
“Crap,” Joey mutters as she takes my hand to walk us off stage. I tune out Patrick and his celebratory congratulations to the happy couple. Rebekah’s squealing is enough pain for my ears.
“Houseguests may return inside.” The black screen starts to lift as we wait to go back in. None of us are in the mood to talk to Bronx and Rebekah, at least those of us who are of the male species. Amanda is yapping his ear off and all I can think is thank heavens it’s him and not me right now.
When we step in, the house has changed. The couches are gone, having been replaced by loveseats and, in addition, the first picture taken of each of us as married couples are on the wall. Millie walks over to hers and traces around the edges.
“They’re going to survive this,” Joey says as she walks over to the photos. I want to tell her that we will, too, it’ll just take some work, but I don’t think she’d believe me.
I wander down the hall and into the red room. I’m hoping Joey and I can just stay in here since we never packed our belongings. I’d rather not fight for a room tonight.
A room?
Stepping back into the hall, I walk toward a new opening. Sure enough while we were playing outside, they somehow brought another room into the house. The wonders of Hollywood magic never cease to amaze me. This room is green and reminds me of grass; definitely not one I want to be in.
I turn at the feeling of a hand on my shoulder. Bronx is standing behind me with a smug look on his face.
“What?”
“Tsk, tsk, Wilson. I’m here to win,” he says as he walks away. Before he rounds the corner, I swear I hear him say your woman.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” I exclaim as Bronx pulls me into his arms. I know to viewers it’s going to look like I followed him down the hall, but the hall just happens to lead to the bathroom and that’s where he found me. He sets me down, brushing lose hairs away from my face.