Blind Reality (Blind Reality 1)

She looks over my shoulder and shrugs. “I think he sees you just fine.”

When I scoff, she shakes her head.

“I don’t know why they’re doing this,” she says.

I answer with, “Ratings,” and she rolls her eyes.

“It’s just a game.”

She’s right, it is a game. We signed on the dotted line to get married in front of a live television audience to people we don’t know. Who does that? The six of us apparently, and we did it for a reason. Each of us has our own history, but that doesn’t mean it’s for the producers to bring out of us until we’re ready.

“We gave them permission to own us for three months. So we roll with the punches and be sure to kick their butts in our next comp and show them whose boss.” It’s easy to say, but it is what it is. We signed up for this; it’s time to deal with it. Besides, it’s only reality television. No one will remember any of this next season, let alone next week.

She laughs, making me feel a little bit better.

Leaving Millie to tend to her own demons, I wander around the house memorizing everything from the colors in the painting on the wall to the design of the pillows that sit on the couches. Josh has warned me a couple of times that one of our competitions will be about our surroundings. He’s tested me and I’ve failed. I promised to get better.

Hour after hour, we wait. Dinner is quiet with only the clank of our silverware hitting our plates. I want to yell out it’s just a game, but my heart is pounding in my ears, waiting for Jules Maxwell to walk through that door. Ever since Millie brought up the ex-factor, I’ve been thinking that Jules is going to come in here, married to some unsuspecting guy.

I don’t know what Josh would do. They have history, years on their side. We have days, a marriage he plans to annul even though I believe we have chemistry. But it’ll never be enough to compete against her. I’m probably worrying for nothing.

Jules is my scapegoat for any and everything that can go wrong with Josh. When he leaves me it won’t be because of me, but because he loves her more. It’s easier that way for me.

“I hate this waiting,” Cole says as he puts his fork down. “How have we given a show so much power over us?”

“Because we signed our lives away,” Amanda adds, earning sighs from all of us.

“Don’t be so dramatic. Its reality TV and they need to keep the viewers entertained,” I add, pushing my plate away.

Amanda glares at me. I deserve it. “What if it’s someone we know?” Millie asks.

I look quickly at Millie, who is resting her head on Cole’s shoulder.

“Do you think they’d do that?” I ask to everyone at the table.

The guys mumble and Millie nods. “It’s what I’ve been thinking since Patrick told us,” she says.

“I think it’s someone to rock the boat, so to speak,” Amanda adds. I don’t want to tell her that I agree, but I do. We’re not spicy enough for the viewers.

“I’m sure we’re freaking out for nothing,” I say.

“How can you say that? Two people are going to walk in and take away your chances of winning a million dollars,” Gary snaps, completely disgusted with what I said.

Joshua reaches under the table and squeezes my leg, his way of letting me know that he agrees with me, but it does nothing to curb my anxiety. The longer we have to wait, the more it builds.

Millie starts to clean off the table and I stand to help her. Amanda doesn’t budge, but its fine. We’ve grown accustomed to doing most of the work around the house while she sits there. She’s someone I won’t miss when this show is over.

When the doorbell rings, I freeze and Millie drops a dish in the sink. From behind me I can hear the chairs scraping against the floor, the clear sound of everyone else standing. Mille dries her hands and I wait for her before we walk over to the rest of the houseguests where we stand in a united front. I clasp Joshua’s hand, a show of solidarity, or just staking my claim. Either way, he makes me feel calm.

Our monitor comes on and we’re greeted with Patrick Jonas staring back at us. “Good evening, newlyweds. As I said earlier, you’ll be meeting a new couple tonight. They already know you, and you’ll have five minutes to get to know them before your next competition begins. The winner of tonight’s comp will win the right to stay in the master suite.”

The door opens and I take a deep breath. I tell myself, Whoever it is that walks through that door, it’ll only be for a few days. Those are the words I repeat as the first person walks in.

I squeeze Josh’s hand and set my eyes on the foot of the door, watching for their shoes first. Two sets of legs come into view. Everything looks normal. They’re both wearing black shoes. The woman wears a skirt and her husband, slacks. Their hands are clasped; clearly they’re not afraid to touch, and it makes me wonder how long they’ve known each other.

The audible gasps make me look up and I wish I hadn’t. The couple in our doorway isn’t Jules or Millie’s ex, but none other than Bronx Taylor with his dirty blond hair styled perfectly and begging for fingers to be run through it. His smile is tilted and I finally meet his hypnotic hazel eyes, eyes that are piercing mine. I swallow hard and hear Joshua very clearly drop the f-bomb. Josh is no longer the only Hollywood hottie in the house.

Bronx steps forward at the same time I do.