Page 64 of Most Eligible
“Uh, hi,” I mumble, trying to get back up, but it’s more difficult than it should be. As I shift my weight, Rhett grunts, and I realize that my backside is pressed fully into his crotch. Cheeks burning, I yank myself up.Nice going, Georgia. I managed to headbutt one man in the balls and give the other a hard-on.
Rhett clears his throat, adjusting his leather jacket. “Good flight?”
“Excellent,” I lie. Because that’s way sexier than saying I spent the first twenty minutes in the tiny bathroom with anxiety diarrhea. Across the aisle, Lainey is eyeing us, probably trying to determine if I’ve permanently damaged Roland’s goods. Under her watchful gaze, I scramble to my feet and blow Roland a kiss over Rhett’s head. I don’t stick around to watch Rhett scowl. I grab my bag and Brooklyn’s and get off the plane before anyone else, winding down the twisting, portable ramp until I’m finally in the fresh air.
I wait for Brooklyn at the bottom of the ramp, and she emerges several minutes later after almost everyone else has already disembarked.
“Thank goodness,” she whispers to me. “I was so worried it would take forever to put my chair back together again. It’s happened before and it’s a nightmare.”
Brooklyn doesn’t talk much about her disability to the other women. But if history is any indication, when this hits TV screens, it will be something that defines her. I’m sure Lainey has already asked her about it in their interviews, pressed her to bare all with Roland. I just hope the producers leave in the rest of her:the quirky jokes, sweet personality, the way she snorts when she laughs too hard.
She shakes her head and smiles. “But it’s not important. As long as we get picked up soon and I can take a nap, everything will be fine.”
“It is important,” I say, hoisting our bags higher on my shoulder as we wait for the remaining producers to deplane.
“Well, yeah,” she says, her face falling. “I know. I just worry about it getting in the way with me and Roland.”
“Have you talked with him about it at all?”
She bites her lip, staring down at her hands. “A bit,” she confesses. “And he was really kind about it. But it’s… well, I guess it’s always something I struggle with when I’m dating. Sometimes it’s easier if I’m friends with someone first, you know? They get used to it. But jumping right into a relationship, like with Roland—or whatever this is… I don’t want to overwhelm him.”
I nod and put on my sunglasses. The sun is, if possible, brighter than it was in LA.
“Not that I’m kidding myself thinking it’ll definitely be me or anything,” she adds. “But that’s the end goal of this, right? An engagement—and marriage means taking care of each other, so I’d understand if it’s intimidating to know that I need a little more care than someone else.”
“Roland would be the luckiest guy in the world to end up with you,” I say, nudging her foot with my own.
“Thanks.” She smiles, then hesitates. “I’ve also been a bit… well… I’m the only one who hasn’t had a one-on-one yet. So, I haven’t had as much time with him.”
“Maybe he’s saving the best for last,” I say. The hopeful look on her face fills me with guilt. But honestly? Roland’s not nearly good enough for her.
A fleet of black vans drives toward us on the tarmac, andBrooklyn and I stare, though everyone else seems to have expected this.
“I thought only celebrities got picked up on the tarmac,” she whispers.
I grin as a hand comes down on my shoulder.
The last to come off the plane, Rhett flips his sunglasses down over his eyes. I glance toward the others, but they’re all occupied. Brooklyn is heading up a shallow ramp into the middle van, and Lainey seems to be giving the driver a stern talking-to. I turn back to Rhett and lower my voice.
“Sorry about before,” I say. He raises his eyebrows. “Didn’t mean to give you an in-flight boner. The SkyMall catalogue probably didn’t advertise that.”
His mouth falls open, and I turn on my heel to head for the vans, a sweet pride rippling through me at getting the better of him.
Take that, Rhett Auburn.
“It’s always daunting to be the first to do something—in my case, to be the first wheelchair user onLove Shack. Being on the show was definitely frustrating and at times a bit lonely. On the first night, I was alone in my accessible limo. I don’t see why the producers couldn’t have put a few of the other women in the same car as me. Reality TV still has a long way to go in terms of representing disability and diversifying casts, but I’m still proud to have been a small part of a positive trajectory toward change.”
—Brooklyn Levy, season 20 contestant onLove Shack, in a postseason interview withBustle
Chapter Twenty-Two
From the airport, we’re shuttled straight to downtown Nashville. The bus rattles to a stop on a crowded side street, and Olie elbows me. I jolt fully awake, wiping a little bit of drool from the side of my mouth. I’d hoped that we might go to our accommodations before we started filming, but I should’ve known better.
We spill out of the bus, and Norbert directs us to a covered bar patio just around the corner. He holds out his arms like a bouncer as a crowd of tourists passes, gawking at us.
“Another bachelorette party,” one of them remarks.
The seven of us cram around a wooden table, and immediately a platter of Jell-O shots is passed around.
