Runaway Groom (I Do, I Don't 2)

Ivy approaches me with an expectant smile, and I grin at her, extending my hand, which she accepts readily.

I lead her down the steps toward the private beach, the cameras dogging our every step, and I wonder

just how the hell I’m going to survive another month of this.

Invitation Ceremony #1

Dear LeAnn—

You are cordially invited to celebrate the wedding of Gage Barrett and his future bride on Saturday, May 21, at two o’clock in the afternoon. Dinner and dancing to follow.

*

The Runaway Groom on why he jilted LeAnn: “LeAnn’s sweet, but the chemistry just wasn’t there. She deserves someone who will take the time to get to know her, and that’s just not me.”

*

Dear Ellie—

You are cordially invited to stay on at the villa as Gage Barrett continues his quest for his future bride.

*

Text message from Ellie to Gage: The closet. NOW.

Gage to Ellie: Can’t. How about the closet, midnight?

Ellie to Gage: Fine. Only because it’ll be easier to dispose of your body in the dark.

Ellie

The only silver lining to LeAnn being the first one to get sent home? She had the bottom bunk to my top bunk, and now I don’t have to worry about stepping on her when I sneak out of my room.

Wait, I take it back.

Because if I’d been the one to be sent home, as planned, I wouldn’t be sneaking out at all. I wouldn’t even still be in Maui—I’d be on a flight back to San Diego, where I belong.

I hop silently down from the top bunk, freezing when I hear rustling from Eden’s bed, but she merely mutters something in her sleep and rolls over.

Paisley snores, God bless her, so I know she’s asleep by the faint honking noise coming from the other top bunk. I usually sleep in shorts and a tank top, but tonight I went to bed in capris. I silently pick up the hoodie and flip-flops I set near the foot of the bed and tiptoe to the bedroom door, grateful that it doesn’t squeak when it’s opened.

The female contestants occupy the five bedrooms on the far side of the house, and once out in the hallway, I creep quietly past the other closed doors toward the hallway and the closet where I talked to Marjorie that first day.

The son of a bitch had better be there, because we’re about to have words.

The worst part was, I really trusted the bastard. I thought when I opened my envelope tonight, I’d have my ticket home. Instead, I got an invitation to stay, and it was LeAnn who said a noisily tearful goodbye.

I get why she had to go, but why at this ceremony? This was supposed to be my farewell.

I walk as quietly as I can in flip-flops, pausing at every turn to listen for voices. Most of the crew’s staying at a house nearby, but Adam, the show’s host, as well as some of the higher-ups, is here on-site, probably to be the first to know if there’s any drama.

For the first time, I wonder where Gage sleeps. I know they put him in the master suite, but I don’t know what part of the enormous house it’s in. Near the closet, maybe? Perhaps that’s how he stumbled across me that first day.

I take two wrong turns and open two wrong doors, one to a linen closet, another to a small powder room, before I get my bearings and find the right one.

I step inside and fumble around for the light switch, only to let out a little squeak when I see Gage leaning against the back wall, hands shoved into the pocket of gray sweatpants, tight-fitting black shirt showcasing every bit of muscle.

“What the hell?” I snap. “Why are you just chilling in the dark?”