Blind Reality (Blind Reality 1)

Joey leans back, with one hand tight on my shoulder. “Stop fighting this,” she says as her lips crash down on mine.

I need to listen.

Someone pinch me. No, wait, don’t because if this isn’t reality, I’d rather stay where I am. He’s letting me touch him, freely and without reservation. He’s not pushing me away, or asking me stop. Josh wants this, and he wants it with me.

The heat from the hot water intensifies everything that I’m feeling. Our bodies are slick and overheated, the anxiousness of what is about to happen seeping through. The cool tiles that are pressed against my back do nothing to curb the burning that I’m feeling. I kiss him hard, crushing my mouth to his. He growls as I stroke him; his hand grips my hips hard and I hope there are marks left so I can recall this moment. Pulling away, my forehead rests against his, our breathing labored, our mouths hovering over each other’s. One slip, one push and he’ll be in.

“Newlyweds, please report to the living room.”

Joshua all but drops me onto the shower floor. My legs, barely down in time, catch myself before I land on my ass.

“We can ignore them,” I plead, not wanting this moment to end. I stand up and face him, looking for any signs of regret. The only thing I see is torment. I don’t know if he’s still fighting an inner battle, remembering the other night, or about to kill the producers. We’re getting so close and it’s like they’re watching us, trying to keep us apart. I want to cry, but that will make him think he’s done something wrong, and he hasn’t.

“Here, let me wash your hair.” I want to bat his hands away out of frustration, but I don’t. Being upset with him isn’t going to help matters. I just need to keep reminding myself that we’ll be alone tonight. His walls are crumbling, I can feel them coming down. Tonight, I’ll start again.

If I weren’t so upset about being cock-blocked by the show, I’d be getting lost in the massage Josh is giving my scalp. Right now, it feels like I’m floating on a cloud. I feel weightless and free. My neck rolls, guiding his fingers elsewhere, causing him to laugh.

“S’not funny,” I say. “What you’re doing feels amazing.” He chuckles again and turns me around, letting the water rinse my hair.

“I didn’t get a chance to wash you.” He kisses me, soft and sweet, pulling away after each kiss only to come back again. This time his tongue traces my lips before he brings me to my knees with a searing kiss. Our tongues tangle; he groans and I’m back to where we were not even five minutes ago. I follow him when he pulls away with a devilish smile playing on his lips.

“Let’s go see what they want. We’re in the master suite, and I’d kind of like to see how this plays out later.” He winks, stepping out of the shower. My fingers touch my lips, recalling the moment we just shared. Closing my eyes, I let tonight play out in my head, and how I’m going to get him to just let go and lose his inhibitions with me. With me … he wants me. Every part of me wants to rejoice, dance a jig and fist pump like Arsenio Hall, but I have to keep my wits about me. He can’t know I’m an eager beaver. That’ll have to come later tonight.

I wash quickly, most of the crap from the competition melting away with the steam, and step out. Joshua is dressed and sitting on the couch, waiting for me. After quickly throwing on a pair of shorts and tank top, I put my hair in a wet, messy bun. No make-up, just me. The only one I need to impress is Joshua and I think we’re finally on the page that we need to be.

“Do you wonder how long they stayed?”

“What are you talking about?” he asks, as he stands and reaches for my hand.

“The producers or whoever came in while we were in the shower.” Joshua looks at me questioningly, so I continue. “How did our clothes get in here?”

Realization dawns as his mouth drops open. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” I say for added benefit. “Creepy isn’t it, thinking they could’ve been standing there, watching us the whole time?” This is one of those moments where I should’ve just kept my mouth shut. Joshua looks mortified. His hand goes slack in mine and I have to tug him to get him to move out the door. “Don’t worry, I’m sure they sent a guy up,” I say to ease his thought process. I know he’s in actor mode now, trying to prevent Married Blind Bathroom Gate from happening. I’ve read enough of his interviews to know that he’s always worried about people taking his picture or recording him at the wrong time.

“That doesn’t help, Joey.” He drops my hand and walks ahead of me. The small victory I achieved is now for naught. I shouldn’t have opened my mouth about the clothes being in the room. He hesitates now when we’re physical, if he thinks our privacy is violated, the walls will go back up.

When we get to the living room, we’re the last to arrive. Millie and Amanda are sitting together so I chose to sit with them instead of Josh. It might behoove me to give him a little space right now although that’s the last thing I want to do. I look across and each of the guys are mimicking each other with their arms crossed and scowls on their faces.

“Our men are pissy,” I whisper to the girls, who both stifle a laugh.

“Gary wanted the red room, but Cole beat him to it.”

“And Cole wanted to take a longer shower, but also wanted to beat Gary to the bedroom so his shower was cut short.”

“They both complained at the same time,” Amanda adds.

“And we didn’t care,” states Millie.

“Wow,” I say. “I think the men of the house are pms’ing. Maybe we need cake.”

Amanda and Millie look at me. Their smiles say everything. “And we need wine!”

“Hello, newlyweds.” Patrick Jonas appears on the screen and we all give him our undivided attention. “Happy one-month anniversary! To celebrate, we thought we’d give you a few messages from home.”

Millie and Amanda clap, but I stay reserved. My mother is neurotic and I can’t imagine what’s going to come out of her mouth. I’d like to hear from my dad. I miss him the most. The screen goes black and we wait with bated breath, for the first video to come on.

Gary groans when it starts and I quickly turn my attention to male talking.