Focus on her face, Max. If I focused on her face things looked better. She was pretty, with dark hair and bright-green eyes.
And then she smiled.
And that damn shudder happened again. Why were women suddenly terrifying me?
I backed away and bumped into another chick, causing her cell phone to crash to the floor—and shatter.
“I am so sorry!” I bent over to pick it up and bumped heads with her. She fell on her ass and I stumbled into the Amazon, whose nails dug into my skin. I yelped and fell forward just as the girl started to get up.
She fell. Again.
Only this time I fell on top of her.
“Aw, shit,” I said aloud as I realized who it was. Becca. The same Becca from the coffee shop. The pretty one who wanted a front-row seat to my tar-and-feathering.
“Excuse me?” She huffed underneath me.
Huh. Nice body. Nice . . . feeling her wiggle underneath my—
“Get. Off!” she spit.
“Sorry.” I stumbled back and offered her my hand.
She did not take it.
I wiped my hand on my jeans. As if it were sweaty, which it wasn’t; that just seemed like the right thing to do.
“I’m sorry I made you fall.” I cleared my throat. “Twice.”
“Yeah, well.” She dusted off her pants and sighed as she glanced at the broken cell phone in her hands. “It’s not like you did it on purpose.”
“Or did I?” I joked, trying to lighten the situation.
Her eyes narrowed into tiny slits.
“So not a jokester, huh?” Kill me now. “I really am sorry . . . about . . .” Hell, I was ready to apologize for world hunger, her look made me feel that guilty. “Your phone and . . . ass.”
“My ass?” she hissed.
Her hair was longer than I’d originally thought. Hmm.
“Next!” the lady at the ticket counter called.
“After you.” I let her go ahead of me. See, I could be a gentleman. Unfortunately she was still glaring at me and ended up colliding with Amazon. Both tumbled to the floor. Only Amazon covered Becca’s entire body with hers.
“Ohhh.” I snapped my fingers. That’s what she’d meant. She’d smother me to death with her height. Hooray!
Drinks, where were the free drinks? Didn’t they have drinks on this show? Damn it! Give me alcohol!
I wish I could say that the rest of the trip was like one of those Lifetime movies where people bicker, then end up falling in love and holding hands as they walk into the sunset with their equally hot bodies and all-around happy dispositions.
False.
Two of the chicks got sick on the plane. One of them threw up a seat behind me, making me gag.
The turbulence was something out of a horror movie and if one more drunk girl shouted, “Snakes on the plane!” or “He can snake my plane anytime!” I was seriously going to parachute out of this thing—without the chute. Feel me?
“So.” Rex plopped down in the empty seat next to me. “I take it you’ve had a while to read through the rules and regulations.”
“Yup,” I lied.
“Well.” His eyes narrowed. “Just to be sure, I brought an extra copy. Scan through it and put your initials at the bottom.”
“Right.” I took the thin stack of papers and started reading.
Luckily the girls weren’t allowed to talk to me, since the show hadn’t officially started. They were filming for promo but that was it.
Rex mentioned something about their being under a gag order or something, with their contracts making it impossible for them to talk to me while we were actually flying, without being in breach of their agreements. Something about not wanting to miss all the good stuff by not filming. I hoped they would stay true to that because it looked like the crew was firing up cameras already.
Yay me!
I took a sip of my beer and started reading through the rules.
The Bachelor may not give monetary gifts to the contestants.
Oh, maybe they’d had problems with Bachelors in the past paying contestants to leave. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it. A vision of Amazon woman came to mind.
The Bachelor may not contact the outside world during his time on the Island.
I rolled my eyes. Right. Even prisoners got a free phone call.
The rules made sense. I continued reading and then got down to the really legal stuff.
Mayhem Media Productions is not liable for any accident occurring during the four-week filming period. Death, even if accidental, could occur. Any hospital bills or mental health issues caused by the show or its affiliates are hereby the sole responsibility of the contestant.
“Death?” I said out loud. “Who’s dying?”
Rex chuckled from the seat in front of me. “Just legal jargon.”
I started sweating. “Has anyone actually . . . died?”
He grew very quiet.
Too quiet.
It was the type of quiet that made you itch all over and start tugging at your clothes. Because. They. Were. Choking. Me!
“Not to worry,” Rex finally said. “He shouldn’t have jumped.”
“Jumped?” I croaked.
“Right. He had a weak heart.” Rex coughed. “Say, how’s your ticker? Seemed the doctor did nothing but sing your praises.”
That happened when another bro was impressed with Mighty Max. Then again . . .
Was it wrong to pray I never saw that doctor again? I gave an uncomfortable shudder. “Well, I’m glad he was impressed.”