Chapter 5: Eloise

If Eloise Crane were a princess,she'd have birds singing to her right about now. She'd have a song in her heart and the voice to carry it. She'd have the perfect cinematic symbol to show just how freaking hopeful she felt.

Eloise, unfortunately, was not a princess.

But she was still excited. She'd had the perfect first night in the manor. She'd had a long, laughing conversation with a cute boy and was fairly certain she hadn't embarrassed herself even one time. She'd felt pretty. She'd gotten a good night's sleep.

And now, she was ready to meet the others.

She supposed the only thing that could have made her night more perfect was if she'd had a love match with her roommate. Foster was kind and he was funny. He was objectively good-looking and she enjoyed spending the night with him but that was pretty much where it ended between them. She didn't feel the overwhelming desire to be kissed by him and she hadn't been even remotely disappointed when he hadn't tried to cuddle her.

He was a little…lax for Eloise's tastes. But that was okay. She'd made a friend. She still had time to find love.

"What are you wearing?" she called out to Foster from the bathroom.

She wanted to make a good first impression and she knew she couldn't do that if she were over-or-under-dressed.

"Probably just some trunks," Foster answered.

"You're not dressed yet?"

"I'm not even out of bed yet, Els."

Eloise loved that she'd already been given a nickname. Everyone back home had always just called her "Eloise." Like there wasn't anything else they could possibly say about her. It was hard not to be thrilled that things were already changing.

"I think we're supposed to be out there soon," she reminded him. Actually, she was certain they were supposed to be out in the backyard soon. That was what production had told them through the speakers before Foster had mumbled something about a reef and tucked his pillow over his head.

She listened for the lethargic rustling until Foster wandered into the bathroom where Eloise stood, attempting to tame the waves of her hair. She'd spent the last few minutes waffling between wearing it up in a voluminous ponytail and letting it hang down her back to make potential partners think about running their hands through it. And there Foster was, shuffling through the door and scrubbing a hand over his unintentional beard and raking his fingers through the mop on his head.

He looked adorable when he did it. If Eloise had tried the same strategy, it wouldn't surprise her if the producers kicked her off the show.

Foster pressed a kiss to the crown of her head before reaching into the shower to twist the water on. It stunned her in the best way. Maybe she didn't feel anything romantic towards Foster yet but she could certainly use more of those little head kisses.

She politely averted her eyes so he could shower in peace and slipped from the bathroom. She didn't think she was ready to tackle an outfit but she really didn't have too much of a choice. When she'd first signed up for the show, they'd told her that she would have to be comfortable on camera in various states of undress, including in a bathing suit, as they were trying to sell a certain summer vibe. Robin had said they wouldn't require their contestants to spend most of their time in their bikinis but it would be heavily suggested.

Eloise opted for a green one-piece, cut high on her thighs and low in the front. Her mother had been scandalized when she'd seen the thong of the back but Eloise couldn't deny that she felt powerful and feminine and sexy when she put it on. Still, as good as she felt, was she really ready to walk out to meet the others, ass cheeks blazing? That was certainly one way to make an entrance.

The more she thought about it, though, the more she decided on the drama of unveiling her body—whipping off some sort of cover up to draw eyes her way if she needed. Maybe they'd find her less interesting if she laid it all out on the table right away. She chose a gauzy, semi-sheer skirt to tie around her waist. At least the skirt made her apparel into some semblance of an outfit.

Foster's eyes dropped to her chest immediately when he exited the restroom, trailing over the cleavage the bathing suit provided. Or—it wasn't so much that the bathing suit provided it as it was that the bathing suit showed it off. She'd always been rather well-endowed in that area and it secretly thrilled her to know that these guys wouldn't be unaffected by what she thought was her best asset.

"Lookin' cute," Foster commented, rifling through his own belongings to find something for the day.

He turned and let the towel drop, giving Eloise a quite intimate view of his ass before he slipped on a pair of turquoise board shorts. The two of them certainly didn't match and that relieved Eloise. Much as she liked him, she didn't want the other contestants to think they were already an item.

She had to keep her options open, after all.

Eloise'd had images in her mind of a grand entrance. Of enthralling the others when she stepped out of the manor and into the sprawling backyard. She'd wanted to watch them turn, take her in. Accept her as a part of the group, a part worth flirting with.

She did not imagine that she'd be stepping out first.

To her complete dismay, there was no one to look her way. Only loungers and couches and the glistening water of the pool. Only the outdoor kitchen and gym and sun-soaked beds. Under different circumstances, she might take a longer moment to appreciate the atmosphere that the show provided. She might decide to partake in some of the more luxurious amenities.

Except, Eloise wasn't here for a vacation.

She was here to find love.

And if no one was there to witness her entrance, she'd just have to make sure she was the first thing they all saw when they exited the manor. She sent Foster away absently in answer to his offer of breakfast and settled herself onto one of the loungers closest to the manor, angling it just right that the others would get sultry little glimpses before coming up to her to chat.

They'd pull her away, tell her she was the cutest girl in the manor. They'd tell her they wanted to share her bed and beg her for a kiss to tide them over until they could. She'd have her pick of them.

So, maybe, it didn't go down quite like that.

Instead, Foster returned, holding a cup of coffee for her in one hand and a plate of eggs and toast in the other. She peered past him to see if there was someone else in the kitchen who could have cooked this because there was no way he'd been gone long enough to make all of that. Or maybe that was just how long Eloise had spent in her own head.

She thanked him and he retreated to grab his own dishes before settling in the lounger across from her.

Oh no. Now the others would come out and see them together and be scared to make a move on Eloise. Or they'd see her with an unflattering mouthful. Or she'd have freaking eggs on her breath all day.

Foster inclined his head towards her untouched plate. "I forgot to ask if you even eat eggs."

"I'm too nervous to eat," she blurted. And it was true.

"You need to eat something," he informed her with a frown.

Aww. He really was a sweet guy. How many people in her life had actually concerned themselves with whether or not she ate, other than her parents?

To appease him, she swiped a piece of toast and pushed the plate toward Foster. He shrugged and added the contents to his own portion. She'd been just about to take a bite when she heard the door behind them open. It startled her enough to send her piece of toast flying, landing face down, of course. On her leg. Her newly butter-covered leg.

Well. There went her very short streak of not embarrassing herself.

Foster wordlessly handed her his napkin—which was thoughtful—but didn't stick around to help her clean herself off. He stood and greeted the newcomers.

"Hey, how's it going?" he asked, the lazy timbre of his voice fooling Eloise into thinking she had time to put herself back together. "Foster."

"Hi, Foster." God, with that sweet rasp that came out of the woman, Eloise no longer believed her boobs and her hair would be enough to catch anyone's attention. And when she glanced up to find a yellow bikini tied over the most gorgeous body she'd ever seen, everything started to feel a little hopeless. The woman stuck out her hand. "I'm Willow."

Willow was such a sight that Eloise briefly considered pursuing her over any of the guys.

"Butter Legs over there is Eloise," Foster announced, causing Eloise's cheeks to start flaming.

The other couple laughed good-naturedly, the man's sounding like it came easy to him. She hadn't worked up the nerve to look at him, yet, but she was practically scrubbing herself raw. He didn't make her stop, though. Instead, he circled Foster's abandoned lounger and sat beside her and smiled.

It was a gorgeous smile. Everything about him was gorgeous, actually. He had long legs and a muscular torso. Forearms that Eloise thought she may have wanted to lick but couldn't truly say because she'd never experienced the desire to before.

"Hey, Eloise," he said. His hazel eyes, not unlike her own, crinkled with it. "I'm Killian. Sorry we spooked you. Do you need some help getting that cleaned up?"

Say yes, her mind screamed. Good things happened when two people escaped to a bathroom together. But Eloise didn't want to look incompetent or like she didn't know how to bathe herself.

She'd never been particularly skilled at flirting, anyhow.

"I think I got it," she squeaked.

He trailed his eyes over her legs. "Yeah, you do. I think you're hot enough to melt it right off, anyway."

Had a human being—one that looked like him—actually just said that to her? He thought she was hot?

He thought she was hot!

"Careful," Willow warned, still standing beside Foster. Her eyes were kind and her stance was still relaxed but Eloise couldn't help but feel like there was a reminder in Willow's words. Not for her, but for Killian. "Keep it up and he might ask you for your favorite pie."

Killian rolled his eyes and swatted gently at Willow's leg. He was touching her leg playfully. What the hell did that mean?

"If I have my way, I'll know everyone's favorite pie by the time we're through," he announced.

The four of them tried to settle into natural conversation but were interrupted when another couple strode out of the manor. Eloise's jaw nearly dropped when her eyes reached the blond woman. She'd been a staple in the media for the past few years before dropping off the face of the earth. And now she was here. Danica Davies.

Eloise wasn't even really sure why she was famous in the first place. Her parents probably owned something expensive. Eloise hadn't followed her story closely but she thought she'd heard something about drugs and rehab. Maybe this show was going to be how she improved her image or salvaged her reputation or something.

Either way, Danica did not look happy to be there.

Honestly, neither did the man that stepped out with her. He towered over Danica, his lips turned down as he stared out over the backyard. His black hair, similar in length to Danica's, Eloise noted, laid so perfectly over his face that it might have been sculpted.

Was everyone here going to be as attractive as the contestants who'd stepped out of the manor, so far? Eloise felt a spike of insecurity. She didn't belong in this group. How could she have ever thought she would stand out next to women who looked like Willow or Danica?

She knew she was cute. She'd been called cute plenty of times in her life. But she'd never been sexy. She'd never commanded attention like these other girls did. God, did she want to, though.

"Should we introduce ourselves?" Killian asked her, surprising Eloise when she found that his eyes weren't on the new couple but were still on her. "I promise I'll call you by your real name."

She matched his smile and placed her hand in the one he'd reached out to her and they did just that with every couple who walked through the door. The tall intimidating one called himself Silas and he was followed by another couple, Cora and Maxon—another specimen of sex on legs and a real boy-next-door type. Killian hadn't left her side through the introductions and Eloise had just started to feel not so bad about her chances when the final couple stepped through the threshold into the backyard.

Like it was instinct, Killian stepped away from her. She recognized the move, the intent. She'd done it herself with Foster. It was a move that made it clear that the two of them were not an item. That, if someone were interested, he was available.

Eloise didn't want it to hurt as much as it did. But she felt herself batting back the tears as Maia and Leith made their introductions and slinked away to the other side of the yard, Killian and Willow in tow. She didn't even blame Killian. Maia was tall and model-like. She didn't ooze sex like Cora or Willow but everything about her screamed sophistication. Intrigue and mystery. Passion. She was so much effortlessly cooler than Eloise could ever hope to be.

But did Eloise even want to be those things? She was bubbly—she knew that. She was kind and she liked to laugh and she didn't mind if sometimes things got a little silly. That was why she was attracted to Killian, wasn't it? She sensed that they might have that in common.

Maybe he might realize that, too. She just had to get him to look at her first.

She took a deep breath and tugged her bathing suit down, just enough to make her boobs pop a little more, and turned to Foster. He still stood at her other side, making casual conversation with the contestants that hadn't followed the others.

"Foster?" Eloise wrapped her fingers around his arm and tugged him back, away from prying ears. "How do I get a guy like that to look at me?"

Foster dropped his eyes to her chest again, darting his gaze between it and Killian. And Eloise thought he might have been on the verge of responding when a scoff had her turning and meeting eyes that pierced her like a bullet.

"Guys like that aren't really fans of the scent of desperation."