1
Oliver
A man wearing a unicorn costume flopped down next to me, his horned, rubber mask pushed up onto his head to reveal a generically attractive face. The leather sectional groaned under the weight of one more body added to its frame. “They said it’s going to be another hour,” Unicorn Guy announced to the group, a chorus of groans following.
Another contestant pushed to his feet and strolled away, mumbling something under his breath about how this looked way more fun on television.
He wasn’t wrong.
We’d been sitting here for going on three hours, waiting to meet the beautiful nurse one of us was supposed to propose to in a little over six weeks, and I felt like I’d run out of things to talk about more than an hour ago.
Unicorn Guy turned to me, his palm outstretched. “Hi. I’m Brett, by the way.”
“Oliver,” I replied, shaking the other man’s hand.
“You look vaguely familiar,” Brett said, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.“Have we met before?”
I suppressed a groan as I pulled my hand away. I never quite knew how to answer that without coming off like a self-important asshole. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember meeting a unicorn,” I said, deflecting the question altogether.
“I wanted to stand out, and since unicorns are Allie’s favorite animal …” Brett gestured up and down his torso and smiled widely, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Good to know.” I filed that tidbit away for later. The only thing I knew about Allie Stanhope coming into tonight was that she was a stunning brunette with legs for days who’d had her heart broken on live television nine months before. Expecting a proposal, she’d been escorted to a waiting limo instead.
“I admit, it’s a risk,” Brett continued. “No one wants to be the guy who gets sent home on the first night because The Heroine doesn’t think he’s taking this seriously. But you also don’t want to be just another handsome guy in a suit.” His gaze dropped briefly to my black Tom Ford and then back up. “No offense.”
“None taken,” I answered, confident in my sartorial choices. This suit and I had been through some pretty amazing times together. “It sounds like you’ve done your research.”
“Oh, absolutely. I came on the show because of Allie.” Brett paused for a beat, his head cocked to the side. “What about you? What’s your deal?”
Stalling for time, I lifted the cocktail I’d been nursing for the last hour to my lips and sipped. Unfortunately, it was mostly melted ice by this point, only the faintest traces of oak and vanilla teasing my tastebuds. “What do you mean?” I asked over its rim.
“Are you here for the right reasons?” Brett asked pointedly.
After ten seasons of Happily Ever After, that question had become as germane to the show as the crowns that were handed out at the end of each night.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t answer it the right way. I wasn’t looking to fall in love with the heroine of this love story. Save Brett, I seriously doubted any of the other guys gathered here were either, though. In fact, I’d overheard a couple of them bragging about the number of Instagram followers they’d gotten since being announced as contestants, and one guy had flat out admitted he hoped being on the show would reinvigorate his stalled modeling career. Out loud.
But I wasn’t about to reveal the fact that my reasons for being here had nothing to do with Allie. Not when the truth could ruin my chance at boosting business for my dad’s restaurant. All my life, the old man had worked his ass off to provide for me and my brother Ben, never once asking us for anything in return. In fact, he’d adamantly and repeatedly refused any help we’d tried to give him.
Things hadn’t always been this bad, though. In fact, once upon a time, business had been good. Ten years ago, Paul’s Diner appeared on an episode of American Eats, and for a handful of years afterward, we’d had a line out the door. It hadn’t hurt that the episode had aired around the same time that I was drafted into the NFL. But only a few short years later, I’d blown out my knee, forcing me into an early retirement. Suddenly, customers hoping to catch a glimpse of the youngest quarterback ever to win a Super Bowl had stopped showing up. And when the resort a few miles down the road had burned down last year, all the remaining tourist traffic had dried up, too.
Things had gotten dire.
So here I was, cut off from my friends and family, hoping Allie kept me around long enough to make an impression on the show’s millions of loyal viewers. Personally, I thought this might be one of Ben’s most ridiculous schemes yet, but I had to at least try. After all, if I’d still been playing football—and getting the type of paydays that came with it—my dad wouldn’t be in this position now.
“Of course I’m here for the right reasons,” I answered glibly, hoping the lie wasn’t as obvious as it felt.
Over the years, I’d gotten good at putting on the face I wanted others to see, and I apparently hadn’t lost my touch. With a wide smile, Brett accepted my answer as the truth. “That’s good to hear. I know we’re rivals and all, but I genuinely want Allie to find true love. If it’s not with me, then I just want it to be with someone who’ll treat her right.”
A small pang of guilt tugged at my conscience, but I quickly pushed it away. “For someone who’s never met this woman, you seem awfully invested in her happiness.”
Brett’s smile dipped, and his tone sobered. “Let’s just say I know what it feels like to be blindsided the way she was. I wouldn’t wish that humiliation on my worst enemy.” He shook his head as if to clear whatever unhappy memory had forced its way in, and then slapped his palms to his knees. “Anyway. I’m going to go grab a drink. Want a fresh one?” He gestured toward my glass, the liquid mostly clear by now.
“Nah, man. I’m good. Thanks, though.”
“No problem,” he said, sauntering away.
Before I could become too comfortable with the freedom Brett’s departure afforded me, another contestant dropped down into the vacant seat to my left, making the couch cushions sink down and tilt me slightly towards him.
“I’d say your secret is safe with me, but those guys over there—” the stranger tilted his head to indicate three men huddled together on the other side of the room “—have already figured out who you are. Now they’re just trying to decide which one of them is going to ask for your autograph. Honestly, they sound more excited to meet you than Allie.”
“Damn” I groaned, eliciting a chuckle from my new companion.
“It could be worse,” he said, taking a sip of clear, bubbly liquid.
I turned to say something pithy in response, but my mouth went dry as our gazes locked. My body froze, and my tongue felt like it had been injected with a numbing agent. Shit. This was … not good.
I didn’t realize I was staring until the other man lifted one dark eyebrow in silent question. “See something you like?”
I felt my face turn hot with embarrassment. “Just, umm, admiring the suit,” I choked out. “Tom Ford?” I should know; it was identical to mine.