like he’s about to punch the nearest thing, which could be his head. “Don’t worry, sir, there’s a chance for you to get back in the running later on. If fewer than nine couples decide to be married for the next challenge, we’ll draw straws from the remaining contestants to fill the open spaces.”
I lean toward Penny’s ear, and she stiffens. Hell, is she always going to stiffen around me? “Look. Ace is out. Our chances are getting better and better by the minute.”
And I know it. I know from the way she won’t look at me. The way she tenses whenever I’m near. Her body may react to me, but she’s got that big brain of hers telling her no, telling her to run as far and fast as she can in the other direction.
She’s probably better off that way.
Her answer is going to be no.
“Now, couple number two!” Will Wang says, moving toward us. “Prince Charming and the lovely doctor. Talk about a striking couple! Dr. Carpenter, what about you? Have you had fun here so far?”
She swallows and nods.
“All right. So, let’s not keep the people waiting. What say you? Are you going on for the million, or does your journey end here tonight? We do, or no way?”
She looks in my direction for a blink, brings her mouth close to the mic, and says, “We do.”
And I swear I could hug her. If I knew she wouldn’t flinch away.
WE DO
Nell
No, I did not think they’d make us marry right then. I thought possibly the winners might have to do that, because that’s the name of the show, but I figured I’d be long gone by that time. It’s fine. I mean, obviously my parents are probably thinking I’ve lost my mind. But we’re obviously going to get it annulled the moment we get eliminated.
—Nell’s Confessional, Day 2
Ten minutes later, we’re all standing on a podium. There are nine couples total now; after several of the contestants decided not to marry while others were rescued from the loser pool, the winners were put in a pool and had their names chosen and paired at random until we got up to nine teams. We’re listening to the justice of the peace spout out the basic marriage vows, “for richer, for poorer,” and all that. But he’s doing it in a game-show-host voice, the spotlight is making me sweat, and I look like crap after that last challenge. Plus, I’m wearing workout capris, my sneakers are full of lime Jell-O, and I have a cheesy white veil on my head that has an MDM clip in rhinestones.
If my parents could see me now . . .
Well, hopefully by the time they see me, this’ll be over and I’ll already have the marriage annulled.
“Now, brides, take your husband-to-be’s hand in your own, gaze deeply into his eyes, and repeat after me . . .”
I swallow. Luke’s hand is like twice the size of mine, calloused and rough, but warm. Mine is slick with sweat. I look up into those green eyes of his. In this light, I can see the amber flecks within them.
We are toe to toe. Hand in hand. So close I can feel the heat from his body. His skin is glistening, and I bet it tastes like lime and sweat.
God, he’s beautiful. So beautiful it almost drowns out the cheesy justice’s voice. So beautiful I almost forget the cameras and spotlight and that we’re here in the Georgia Tech rec center, about to compete on a game show.
I manage to choke out the “I do.”
Then the justice turns to the men and asks them the same. Luke says, his voice a low tremor, “I do,” even as the words “till death do you part” are still hanging in the air. The rings we exchange are gold tone, but plastic, and say MDM on them; they really spared all expense with that detail.
“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the justice says.
And just like that, Luke Cross and I are married.
I’m married. Married to the dirty yeti who can’t stop staring at me.
“You may now kiss the bride.”
My eyes widen. I turn to the justice in shock.
Luke doesn’t even attempt it. We just stand there awkwardly. Behind me, I hear the sounds of a scuffle and whirl to look. Ace—who managed to get back in the game because his number was drawn to pair with a dark-haired beauty named Marta—just got slapped. “No touch me!” she shrieks.
I