Chapter 25: Killian

"Is this okay?"

He'd been staring into space, fiddling with the drawstring on his pants when Eloise stepped out of the bathroom. Her voice held that same stomach-turning hopefulness like she knew the answer she wanted from him. Like his answer had the power to set a precedent for this arrangement.

And man, Killian really didn't deserve for Eloise to be so nervous sharing a room with him. He was just…some guy. And not the greatest one, considering he'd chosen Eloise knowing he wasn't really over Maia.

What a damn shame that was because Eloise was fucking beautiful.

She'd slipped into the tiniest little nightie he'd ever seen and he wasn't anywhere near the headspace to enjoy it. Guilt smacked him for the first time since the ceremony. Should he have just left it all alone? Let her stay with Silas?

Silas would have enjoyed that fucking nightie.

He realized he'd been staring—not at her but through her—and cleared his throat. "Yeah, great. Whatever makes you comfortable," he added.

"I'm sharing a bed with you," she pointed out, only after assessing him for a moment. He'd been trying to assess her, too, and he saw that he hadn't given her the answer she wanted. "What makes you feel comfortable is important, too."

He wasn't uncomfortable with Eloise, per se. Killian wasn't sure he had the capacity to be uncomfortable with another person. It wasn't in his nature. But he couldn't lie and say this whole affair didn't make him uneasy.

In the moment, he'd been sure he was doing the right thing for himself. He didn't deserve to be walked all over. To be pushed aside when he'd come on the show to pursue a deeper sort of connection. It was a disservice to himself to walk away from that. So he'd chosen someone else.

Eloise.

Who he liked well enough. He found her attractive and he appreciated her generally positive outlook because it so often aligned with his. They were likely well-suited and if he were going to leave with anyone that wasn't Maia, she'd be it.

But there it was. The whole that wasn't Maia modifier that made the whole scenario feel kind of icky.

He likely could have been stubborn about it. Made a whole speech about how if it wasn't going to be Maia, it was going to be no one. He could have packed his new, branded, hard-shell suitcase and left.

That was not the choice he'd made.

So he couldn't say he was comfortable.

Instead, he said, "I'm fine."

And the two of them didn't speak again, even when they crawled into separate sides of the bed and the lights went out and it would have been a polite opportunity to tell the other all the placating bedtime things like goodnight and sleep tight and maybe even a whispered don't let the bed bugs bite.

Killian wasn't a fan of Maxon. Hadn't been since they'd arrived. And with how much he despised watching the man try to get handsy with Maia, Killian couldn't be sure if he was actively being proven correct or if this was just a really fucked up confirmation bias.

Whatever that confirmation was, it was increased tenfold when, as Maxon had his hand covering Maia's thigh, he attempted to make eyes at Danica over his shoulder.

He couldn't pretend to be interested in his new partner for, like, a day?

Fuck, not that Killian was much better, sprawled on the sunbeds next to Eloise and using his glasses to hide the fact that he was watching the woman he'd been paired with just yesterday. Was that the kind of man Maia would want? He didn't think so, but then again…

Maybe Maxon really was more Maia's speed, considering her aversion to relationships. An aversion that he would have really liked to explore, if she'd ever allowed them to have a truly serious discussion. The gist of it, he thought, was that she didn't have a whole lot of stability in her life. No good examples of people sticking it out together.

Killian theorized that it wasn't that she didn't want to stick it out for another person and it wasn't that she didn't want anyone to stick it out for her. It was that she wanted it so desperately that she wouldn't give someone the chance to ruin it for her.

Regardless, it would be shitty of him to pretend to have some deep insight to her. To have realized something she hadn't realized herself. God, though, he just wanted a chance to fucking talk about it.

He knew, in every part of him, that they could be so good together.

Killian had found his own little mundane super power, working in the wedding industry. He'd found that, with almost startling accuracy, he could tell if a couple was going to last by the end of their first meeting. And he did so considering no other factor than their spark.

He and Maia had that damn spark.

It wasn't like he was proposing marriage to the girl yet. All he knew was that you couldn't just ignore the spark. And was that what he was doing with Eloise? Ignoring the spark?

He'd thought he'd been doing everyone a favor—giving Maia what she said she wanted, giving himself another shot, giving Eloise his proper attention. Now, though, in the light of day, it just felt more like a thinly-veiled act of revenge.

A childish tantrum.

Eloise—who'd been talking to him, apparently—sighed and rolled over onto her back.

He winced. "I'm so sorry. What were you saying?"

She pushed her own sunglasses so they held back her hair and propped herself up on her elbows. "Um, which part?"

Yikes. "All of it?"

"Am I that boring?" she joked. He thought the words were probably meant to be teasing but he wasn't blind to the fact that, this time, she wasn't employing her usual tone.

The cheery, flirty one.

This one was, at best, flat.

And he still didn't know the color of her eyes.

"You're not boring," he assured her. "I'm just distracted, I guess."

She flitted her gaze around like she was searching for someone to come save her from the conversation. The one with him. He didn't think that'd ever happened to him before. Usually, he was the epitome of comfort. The one clients were always more inclined to open up with.

How he had encountered so many in this manor that were immune was a mystery.

"Listen, you didn't, like, have to pick me," she huffed finally. And not unkindly, either.

"What?"

"At the ceremony. You didn't have to pick me. I know I've been flirting and stuff but I'm not—I'm not desperate, you know? You didn't need?—"

"I don't think you're desperate."

That was what he'd said. Nothing about how he was happy he'd picked her or or how he knew he didn't have to but he'd simply wanted to. He couldn't offer that.

Eloise eyed him with pure skepticism and she had every right to. "You don't?"

"No." He shook his head. "I think you're doing this whole thing right. Staying kind and happy. Going after what you want. You just seem so…un-scared of heartbreak. I think that's how you've gotta be."

"Maybe because it's never happened to me," she murmured.

Killian shrugged, grateful to have shifted the conversation off of him. "Maybe," he agreed. "But I hope that when, or if, you ever do, you don't lose what you've got now. There are too many good things about love to be miserable about it."

"Like what?"

"What are the good things?"

Eloise nodded.

His eyes didn't intentionally drift back to Maia when he spoke. He didn't even think he was in love with her yet. But nonetheless, he couldn't stop staring as he said, "Like just knowing you have someone in your corner, to start. Someone who's got your back in every fight, even if the fight is with them.

"And there's safety, too. Having someone around who just makes it easier to close your eyes and let it go. And those are just the soft things. There's hard, punchy things, too. That stirring sensation in your body when you're nearby. The thrill of guessing when the next time you'll kiss will be. The painful, over-the-top laughter that only ever sneaks out when you're with that one person." And more for himself than anything, Killian added, "There's the spark."

When he turned, Eloise was watching him. Cataloging. She blinked what he thought might have been tears out of her unknown eyes.

"Have you been in love a lot?" she asked wistfully.

Killian shook his head. "Some things you just know."

"And some things you don't."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, you don't know when it'll happen to you. If it ever will."

Killian scooted until he could wrap an arm around Eloise's shoulders, pulling her out of her relaxed stance and into an embrace. "I don't think love is ever a matter of if. I think we all find it in a thousand different ways. It doesn't have to be the all-consuming, once-in-a-lifetime way."

Eloise turned down the corners of her mouth when she blinked up at him. Finally, he clocked that her eyes were hazel, just like his. "But I want that once-in-a-lifetime love," she argued.

Shit, Killian did, too.

But how did he tell her that his was probably sitting on the other side of this backyard while she was in his arms, hoping he'd be hers?

And did he really, truly think his once-in-a-lifetime love was Maia? He wasn't acting like a man that did. He was acting like a man with a bruised ego and shitty coping mechanisms. One who didn't care if he left this manor without her, so long as he left with his pride.

Well, Killian fucking cared if he left this manor with Maia.

He cared a lot.

Even as he thought it, he found her gaze, lasering through her sunglasses and narrowing in Eloise and Killian. On how he held the other girl. How their legs brushed against one another atop the mattress.

Maia saw everything and he loved the way her little frown sat on her face. It probably wasn't very kind to tell a person they looked good when they were frowning but, damn, if he didn't love the sentiment behind it.

Maia didn't want him anywhere near Eloise. Because Maia wanted him for herself. And hadn't he just told Eloise that love was having someone in your corner to fight? Well hand Killian some gloves because that little frown was all he needed to know they weren't done.

But—hell—he'd left Eloise hanging again.

"And I truly hope you find it," he told her honestly.

Which, when she shrugged out of his embrace, he knew had been a misstep. A callous one. And not one he could realistically apologize for. What would he say? Sorry I made it sound like I don't love you but I don't? Sorry for leading you on but I'm going to go try to win Maia back?

Actually, he probably should use that last one. Hard as it was to admit, he'd fucked up this week by submitting for a swap. On all accounts.

Before he could open his mouth to say any of it, though, Eloise turned over.

"I think I'm going to see if I can get away with a nap. If you wouldn't mind sending one of the girls over, or…"

So she was dismissing him. That was fair. And he didn't disbelieve her about the nap, either. None of the contestants were technically allowed to sleep during daytime filming hours but the girls had learned if they pretended to gossip about their honeymoons a bit before, they could get away with little cat naps here and there.

He stalled, though, when he got farther away. Eloise probably would have preferred Cora, of all the girls. Killian was pretty sure the two of them had bonded. But she was close with all of them, really. He could send over Maia. Use Eloise's request as a chance to speak with her.

Was it tacky to send the girl you used to honeymoon with to chat with the girl you were currently honeymooning with?

He tossed the idea away, not only because it felt slightly insensitive if Eloise truly did want to talk about him but also because he wanted to speak with Maia for longer than a brief Eloise wants you.

He'd need time if he wanted to charm Maia again. A whole week's worth. Maybe more. At minimum, he had approximately a week and a half to convince Maia that Killian was willing to stick it out for her.

Maximum? Well, they both lived in California.

That was promising, right?