Blind Reality (Blind Reality 1)

e.”

His hand drops, and he steps back. I look down at the ground again, afraid to see his expression morph into something horrid. He’s probably trying to remember the contract and what situations allow us out of the marriage and the house early. Sadly for him, I don’t think having a wife as your stalker counts since he’s the first celebrity to come on the show.

Joshua slides his hands into his pockets, and I don’t know if it’s a relief for me that he won’t be touching me any time soon or more heartache because he doesn’t want me touching him.

“I never thought it’d be a possibility that I’d marry a fan.”

I laugh out loud, which sounds more like a bark. Great. I can’t even laugh like a normal person around him. “Yeah, well, if I knew you were a possibility, I probably wouldn’t have gone up there.”

“Why did you?”

“Technically, I didn’t,” I say, looking at him. I have to tread lightly here. I can tell him my story, or I can sugarcoat it as an overbearing mother who thought I’d find the man of my dreams on this show. “I was engaged, and he cheated. I found out right before the wedding and had to move back home. My mom … I love her, but she’s nuts. She submitted everything and didn’t tell me until I got the call. Well, she got the call and packed my bags. My dad was there, though, to walk me down the aisle. My mom thought I’d find my soul mate or the man of my dreams. She’s probably on the phone to her bridge friends telling them all about my sordid infatuation with you.”

Joshua grows quiet, and the voices that we heard earlier are no longer lingering outside the door. Who knows what they’re thinking, but I’m tempted to mess up my hair just to get them talking. I lean against the sink, crossing my ankles. I could leave and go join the others, but being in this confined space, even though its torture is worth it.

“That was a really good kiss we shared.”

“Yeah, definitely one for the memory book,” I reply, bringing my fingers to my lips.

“We should probably kiss more.” I look at him questioningly. “You know, for the cameras and other houseguests. We can’t have them thinking we don’t get along.”

I nod. “So kissing is okay, but no sex?”

He looks at me for a moment before he diverts his eyes. “Yeah, kissing is good,” he says before walking out of the bathroom.

That kiss is something I’ll never forget. Her lips are burnt into my memory. The way her fingers played with my hair made me feel like I was having an out-of-body experience. I’ve never felt shivers before from having my hair played with. I have to share a room with her later. We’ll be in the same bed, under the same covers with possible body parts touching and the lights off. We’re liable to move closer to each other as we shift in our sleep. Maybe a pillow between us will help us ward off any unexpected touching. I mean, if I’m sleeping I can’t be held accountable for what my hand does, not to mention the morning wood I’ll likely be sporting, and if it’s anything like the hard-on I have now, I’m doomed.

My goal in this house is to concentrate, and I can’t let some woman knock me off the rails, even if that woman is my wife and we have to live together and pretend we’re in wedded bliss. So what if my wife is tall with a rocking body that I’ve only seen with clothes on and know my eyes will bug out of my head the first time I see any bit of hidden skin? Who cares that I really liked kissing her and want to do it over and over again?

I don’t want to like her, at least not like that. Yes, I’m attracted to her. Who wouldn’t be? First of all, I’m a red-blooded male, and chicks are hot. Second of all, she’s sexy as hell. Not that hell is meant to be sexy, but I love that she’s natural; no layers of make-up covering her face, no plastic added or fake tits being pushed up into her neck. No ozone-killing chemicals holding her hair in place. Those are the things that matter, especially as I’m standing here picturing my hands cupping her face and my lips kissing every bit of exposed skin.

Joey comes out of the bathroom, passing me without eye contact or even acknowledging me. That stings a little, to be honest. We have to show a united front, especially in front of the cameras. Next week when we win the master suite, we can be true to ourselves and sleep separately. I can take the couch, like every gentleman should. We just have to make it through this week as two people, who are married, trying to get to know each other. Unconventional? Yes, but doable.

I follow Joey and crash right into her, grabbing her hips just as she bends over to pick up her bag. I should let go and step back, but knowing that she fits perfectly against me has me holding on.

“Ahem!”

Joey springs up, almost smacking me in the face with her head. We both look at the voice to find Gary standing at the mouth of the hallway. I should let go of her hips, but I see the way he looks at Joey and everything is telling me to stake my claim.

“Already getting to know each other I see.”

His words are like nails going down a chalkboard. He’s not doing a very good job of hiding his jealousy. Is he jealous that I’m here, or that she’s married to me? I pull Joey a little tighter to my body before I address him.

“We’re married; why waste time?” I shrug and feel Joey stiffen. My comment will have to be discussed again in private. More ground rules we will need to define.

Gary looks around, as if he’s not supposed to be here right now. “I guess it’d be nice if my wife felt the same way.” He turns, leaving us alone.

I loosen my hold on her and she bends again to pick up her bag. However, I don’t allow her to swing her bag onto her shoulder before I take it from her.

“I got this.”

Smiling, she lifts my bag so I don’t have to pick it up. “We should select a room before Gary goes to get Amanda.”

I nod, figuring that Joey can choose the room she wants us in. I know I want the red room—it’s sexy and alluring, not that she and I need that, but it would be nice to spend our wedding night in there. “I’ll follow you,” I say, motioning toward the two rooms that are waiting for us. When she turns toward the red room, I sigh in relief. I’m not sure I can stay in the white room. It’s too bright and doesn’t exude sexiness. Not that the word sex should be on my mind, but again, I’m a guy, it’s there.

“Is this okay?” She spins on her foot and faces me. Everything about her posture tells me she’s comfortable. Her arms hang near her sides instead of on her hips. She’s giving me a choice when I gave her the go ahead to make the decision for us. I want to touch her, maybe hold her hand or tackle her onto the bed and tickle her. Either action would curb my curiosity on what it would be like to touch her, or to have her pressed against my body for a moment, until I need more.

“I think this is perfect,” I answer, setting the bags down. There really isn’t a need to unpack since we move from room to room every week. That is definitely something I don’t like about this show. It’d be nice to have a private place that we’re familiar with so we can spend some quality time with each other. Getting to know her will have to be done in front of the other newlyweds and the cameras.