I head into the house with Matt and Dean, all of us disappointed that we lost but pretty stoked after a fun morning with the kids. Even with missing out on the group date, it’s hard not to smile at their excitement. The production crew stepped in while we were heading back to the house, and they’re going to get catering to set up an impromptu barbecue outside in twenty minutes.

Still, I can’t stop thinking about Emily. Our moment we shared has been the only thing on my mind since this morning. If it weren’t for this whole charade, I’d have had her screaming my name by now. Then again, if it weren’t for this show, I probably would’ve never met her. But I can’t stop thinking about how she felt and when I can feel her again.

I grit my teeth as I remember Lee’s slimy smile. During the fourth quarter, I had to bite my lip when he taunted me. “Don’t worry, it’ll all be over soon, and she’ll be on my cock . . . right where she belongs.”

What he said was crass enough, but something about the way he said it sounded so condescending, it made me want to punch him right in his smug face even more. He doesn’t respect Emily. He’s doing this for the fame, for his Instagram fans or something. She can’t see it, I don’t think, but I can understand. He’s playing the cameras just right. Of all the men left, he’s the one I’m most concerned about being able to win her heart because of his bullshit façade.

“Well, that sucks,” Dean complains as we all flop down on the couch. Sitting next to him, I prop my feet up on the large ottoman in front of us. “I thought I was finally going to get my time to shine. Nice save on the party idea though.”

He’s my competition, but I get Dean’s frustration. Whatever his real reason is for being here, he’s not an asshole. Or maybe I’m just biased because we have a mutual disdain for Lee.

“You’re not the only one,” mutters Matt, who’s sitting across from Dean. He looks over at me. “Speaking of which, how was your date? What’s she like? We’re here competing for her and I’ve hardly had a chance to talk to her.”

Despite my irritation, I grin. “A gentleman never tells.”

Dean lets out a laugh, kicking my foot off the ottoman with his own. “Dude, you’re so full of shit. You’re seriously not going to tell us?”

I chuckle. “You’ll find out for yourself soon enough.”

At that moment, all of our heads swivel simultaneously as Lee comes strolling in, all swagger and attitude, with Cody and Carlos behind him.

“Too bad, guys. Us . . . winners . . . are off for a day of on-camera bungee jumping while you sit around wanking off and wishing you were us,” he sneers. His eyes are on me as he says it and it takes a colossal effort not to jump up and make his face a part of the furniture.

Before I can reply, Dean snorts. “Trust me, Lee. If I’m wanking off, you’re the last fucking thing on my mind.”

Matt laughs, eying Lee up and down. “I don’t know, dude. I might let Lee rock my fantasy world. He seems like he could take a pounding.”

For once, Lee looks at a loss for words, a range of emotions crossing his face. “Dude, what the fuck did you just say—”

Matt interrupts him. “Calm down, asshole. I’m just fucking with you. I’m not really going to make you my bitch.”

Lee shakes his head while the rest of us try not to laugh. “Well, gotta get ready. Don’t want to disappoint my fans. I’m up another half-mill followers since I got here. Need to keep making those good impressions on Emily too, if you know what I mean. We’ve got a connection,” he says, bringing his hands together and interlocking his fingers. With a cocky smirk, he walks out of the room toward his bedroom.

Watching him go, Cody and Carlos shake their heads, having been silent during the whole exchange.

“Holy fuck, if we could switch places,” says Cody, clenching his fist so hard his massive knuckles pop like small firecrackers. “I’d let either of you go in my place just so I didn’t have to put up with his fake ass. I’m gonna have a hard time not calling him out on his shit. Knowing my luck, I’ll probably come out looking like an ass on camera.”

Carlos nods, looking like he wants to chase Lee down. “I know. I might be a dog, but that guy is just downright wrong. All sweet and sexy to Emily and when the cameras are rolling, then a crude douchebag any other time.”

Carlos and Cody both give us a nod, then head off to get ready while Dean and Matt decide to change t-shirts before the barbecue. I hang back, sipping on a Coke and thinking.

I’ve got to see Emily again, I think to myself. If only there were a way to see her off-camera. I feel like I need to warn her off Lee, but mostly, I just want to get to know her better without the cameras. Suddenly, I have an idea.

McKayla said we were lucky there were no cameras in her room, so she has to know where the cameras are. She can get a message to Emily for me. It might not be the best idea, but it’s worth a shot.

Jumping to my feet, I head back down to Hair and Makeup, running into Nate in the hall.

He looks at me with surprise, blinking rapidly behind his wide-rimmed glasses. “Where you headed, Hayden?” he demands.

I grin, trying to appear like I’m not up to something. “Oh, just to the kitchen. Our mini-fridge is out of water and I wanted to hydrate before the party.”

Nate peers at me for a moment before sighing. “Really? Well, I’m sorry about that. I’ll let catering know immediately.” Scribbling something on his clipboard, he scurries off.

I watch him leave and then continue on my way. I get to the room and knock once before stepping inside and closing the door behind me.

McKayla, who’s messing with a wig while Brad complains about his feet being too big and wide to fit into Emily’s heels, spins around in surprise. “Oh, hell no!” she snaps, shaking her head. “You can turn your hot ass right back around and get the hell out. Emily isn’t here and you’re not supposed to be either.”

Brad smirks, kicking the high heel to the side and flipping his hand at me. “Speak for yourself, hooker. I don’t mind at all. As long as he’s willing to show some of his . . . assets. Squats? I bet you do squats, don’t you?” he asks as he tilts his head, analyzing my lower half.

I’m not sure whether to laugh or not, so I just ignore him and look directly at McKayla. “Look . . . hear me out. You said earlier that there were no cameras in here. That means you know where they are. I need to talk to Emily, no cameras, no production crew, just us. Can you help me with that?”

If looks could kill, I’d be roadkill right about now, but I stand my ground. “Please.”

McKayla scowls at me. “And why would I do that? You’re asking me to risk my job. Just wait until the show is over and talk to her all you want . . . regardless of who wins. I’m not going to let you drag me into this mess.”

“I can do that too,” I say, “but . . .” I pause, at a loss for words. This is frustrating.

Brad leans forward. “What’s your game plan?”

“I like her,” I say. “She’s—”

Brad rolls his eyes. “No shit, Sherlock. That was obvious when we busted in on you two doing the Twister—”

“She’s smart, funny, and I want to talk to her for a few minutes, not try to play with her emotions just to win the show like some of the guys who are left. Which reminds me, she should probably know a few things,” I continue, talking over Brad. I stop, surprised at how much I said as McKayla and Brad go silent.

McKayla looks me up and down, then bends her head toward Brad and starts whispering. I stand there uncomfortably, hating how foolish I must look.

McKayla pipes back up. “Fine, you’ve got balls. I like that. Not a rule follower. I like that, too.” She stops to scowl darkly at me with warning. “But if you hurt her or ruin this opportunity for her, I will take those big balls of yours and snip them off with the dullest pair of scissors that I have. Questions?”

It takes great effort not to start laughing in her face. This chick is seriously one card shy of a full deck, threatening me with that dark look on her face but then brightening right back up at the end. Mood swings, much?

I shake my head, keeping my tone serious. “Nope. No questions. So, what can you tell me?”

McKayla taps her ruby red lips with her fingernail. “Hmm, inside the house is tough. There's cameras in almost all the rooms you can access except the toilets. Not particularly romantic. Ah, the pond . . . how do you get there without being seen?”

I watch as her mind whirls, not interrupting. She’s nuts, but she’s smart and devious. I like it.

Brad suddenly lets out a squeal, raising his hand like he’s trying to get the teacher’s attention. “I got it!” he exclaims excitedly. “Out the side door to the smoking area, you know that place where you can pop through the big hedge?”

“Holy shit!” McKayla snaps her fingers, smiling at Brad. “You’re a genius! I would kiss you if I knew it wouldn’t turn you into a flaming hetero who wanted me day and night.” She snaps her finger, strutting around him.

Brad rolls his eyes, unfazed by her backhanded praise. “Bitch, please, you could be the last pussy on earth with the human race depending on us to procreate and I still wouldn’t get within ten feet of that. You forget, I know where it’s been.”

“So anyway,” she says after a moment of glaring at Brad. “On the other side, y’all can go down past the back lawn area, to the trees at the back of the property, and then sneak up to the private pond back there. It’ll just be you and the ducks.”

I grin, happy to find a resolution “Perfect. Thanks.” I pause. “What time will it clear out and be free of security guards?”

McKayla lets out a hum, thinking. “Guards don’t patrol back that far, but they might catch something on the monitor when you slip through the hedge.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Brad says. “Slip through right at the eleven o’clock shift change, and I’ll swing by to tell Harvey about my date last week. He loves hearing about my escapades. He claims he’s straight, but it’s so obvious. Getting back in won’t be a problem. People always rag on him because he’s asleep at the monitors by two. Just come in separate doors, at least twenty minutes apart, and it’ll look like you’re both just having trouble sleeping and decided to wander if you do happen to be seen.”

McKayla nods. “I’ll let Emily know when she comes in to get her makeup cleaned off after the group date. But I have to warn you. If she’s not interested, you’re on your own, buddy.”

I flash a wolf-like grin of confidence. “She’s interested,” I say.

At least that’s what I have to tell myself.

I nod my head at them as I prepare to leave. “Thanks, ladies,” I say before quickly adding, “And, uh, gentleman. Sorry, Brad, no offense.”

Brad laughs, waving me off with a wink. “None taken. I’m more of a lady than Pinky Pie Hooker over here could ever think of being.”

With a wink, it’s all set. Just hours and hours to go until show time.