Reality Check

4. Look Here

The moment I lay eyes on the man chatting with Henry, Sarah's husband and co-executive producer, by the stage, I'm exceedingly grateful that the male contestants were in a separate debrief. There is a zero percent chance I would have caught even a tenth of what Sarah told us if this divine person were in the same room.

He's tall, towering over the other men I no longer care about, with broad shoulders and biceps practically bursting out of his very flattering baby-blue button-up. His tousled chestnut hair is just long enough that it's starting to curl. And then there are his eyes. Blue so deep you could take a swim, framed by long lashes. They're as animated as the rest of him while he speaks and gesticulates and tosses his head back in a roaring laugh.

I don't know his name, but I want to introduce him to my mom.

"I'm ranking him first," I whisper to Noelle and Maddie.

"Retweet," Maddie agrees.

"Order doesn't matter until next round," Noelle reminds us.

"It matters in my heart," I inform her.

Maddie nudges me. "And other places."

Retweet, girl. Re-frickin'-tweet.

"Hunter Galloway," Noelle says. "You guys didn't look through the binder with all the contestants?"

Maddie shrugs. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

I silently and unofficially recuse myself from the conversation because I did look through the binder. Twice, actually. There were a lot of names and a lot of faces, and my brain isn't all that great at connecting the two.

We plop down in the second row—and by plop, I mean dainty perch on the fancy wicker chairs—and await instructions from our host, Danny Wilder, who's a total DILF. He has to be in his mid- to late-thirties, maybe his forties, but he wears the shit out of his slim cut suit. 

Maddie can't take her eyes off him either. Noelle's gaze, however, is locked on a guy with dreads and muscles so humungous I wouldn't be surprised if he bench-presses SUVs every morning.

"Girl, you're drooling," Maddie whispers.

Noelle closes her mouth and continues to stare. The subject of her attention, who probably feels lasers boring holes into his head, turns and locks eyes with Noelle. His lips curve up into a small, lopsided smile. I don't know what Noelle's mouth does because I turn away, feeling like I just walked in on them having sex. I'm not exaggerating. That's how intimate their across-the-room stare was.

"I think we just witnessed love at first sight," I whisper to Maddie.

"Hot damn." She fans herself. "They should just go to the cabins now."

"Mia?"

I swallow my comment about how I feel like porn music is about to start playing and whip my head around. "Hi, Sarah."

"We're doing introductions in alphabetical order by gender. Ladies first, obviously. Do you feel alright to go first?"

Nope, but I don't think I have a choice. "Sure. Do I need to sit in the front?"

"Oh, no." She waves her hand. "Sit wherever you want. We aren't using any of the footage of contestants getting up from their seats. Only the introductions."

"Cool. Thanks for the heads-up."

"You're very welcome." 

She saunters to the stage, pulls her husband from Hunter Galloway, and clears her throat. "Attention, Enlisted stars! Please take a seat wherever you'd like. We'll call you up for your introductions one by one, going in alphabetical order. We will not be doing any reshoots, so take a few deep breaths before you come up on stage. Ready, Mia?"