Blind Reality (Blind Reality 1)

The next ingredient appears: Carrots

“I know this,” she says.

I set my hand on her hip and apply a little pressure. “Let them win.”

She nods and writes something on the board and chimes in.

“What’s your answer, Joey?” Patrick calls out over the loud speaker.

“Mushroom Pot Pie.”

“That is incorrect. You and Joshua are out of this round.”

“That was brilliant,” I whisper into her skin. She reacts, unwillingly I’m sure, as her skin pebbles under my touch. She nods and tries to step away from me, but I hang on, not allowing her to move.

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