Page 44 of Insta Bride

Seb was quite happy sleeping with the sexy Sami and had no expectations past the island. While walking along the beach with Kye, I tried to convince myself that a man who chose a short-term fling instead of long-term with me, didn’t deserve me.

Seb didn’t deserve me.

I wanted to put myself back together, but cameras were everywhere. If I cried, they’d record it and show my humiliation to the world.

Kye became my good and bad news. The sexiest man on the island had chosen me and never left my side.

I knew it wouldn’t have taken much for Kye to flirt with Campbell or Kenzie—or even Randi—during the speed dating. Any one of those women could have been swayed to write his name.

They’d all picked him as their top two in their pre-island interviews.

He could have set up a harem which would have boosted his profile and set up the show for an explosive finish.

He hadn’t.

He’d picked me and I had no idea why.

Now? Kye hadn’t left me to the wolves, but he also hadn’t forgiven me for picking Seb.

Oh, in public, he said all the right things, he held my hand and closed down any of the bitchy conversations.

But I felt his embarrassment and hurt.

We dressed for dinner in silence. I chose a long white dress with intricate lace inserts, buttoned down the front. I felt the need to embrace my inner hippy. Paired with tan flat shoes, I let my hair hang loose and decided on minimal makeup. Nothing could make me feel pretty or attractive or wanted.

Kye, of course, looked sexy AF. Tan shorts and navy-blue button up shirt. He’d tied his hair back in a man bun and his face held none of the day’s stress.

We walked into the dining room hand in hand, except Kye ignored the producer’s seating arrangements. My name tag was placed in between Seb and Kye.

Kye flicked our cards away and led me to the end of the table, sitting at the head with me to his right.

When Dawson tried to take his seat opposite me, Kye growled and told everyone to shove down.

We had a private dinner, in front of the other couples. Never taking his eyes from mine, he held my left hand and fumbled while feeding me with his left.

Kye was attentive and caring, but I would have given anything to have the same connection we had the night when he’d laid me down on the tablecloth. Wearing the same dress didn’t bring back the night.

I’d hurt Kye, and we probably wouldn’t get the chance to talk privately before the next elimination.

The food was long gone, the only drinks available were alcoholic, and the producers had sent us the message. We weren’t going to be released for the night until they got their controversy.

“Don’t even look our way,” Kye warned, again. Each time someone tried to bait Seb or Kye, Kye closed them down. “Elena and I are working it through. Don’t fuck with us. Not tonight.”

After most of us were yawning more than talking, it came down to someone else having to pick an argument.

I liked Darnelia, but I could see how it was easy for Kenzie and Georgia to gang up and instigate a fight. Darnelia was a self-proclaimed corporate princess. She drank champagne by the bottle and holidayed overseas. At our first dinner, she admitted coming to the island was her first Australian vacation in over a decade.

Clint, on the other hand, was your typical fly-in fly-out worker. His rough hands and arm muscles were from hard work, not gym work.

Clint was the guy Darnelia probably masturbated to, or booked as a male stripper, but would never date. Yet somehow, they fit together. He treated her like a princess, and she took every advantage his body had to offer.

I’d hoped they could be the ultimate opposites attract and fall in love, but the producers wanted controversy and Kye refused to hand us over.

With Harris and Benjamin sitting back with their limp dicks, and Kye’s cautioning hand on my knee to keep out of it, we were all helpless as Georgia baited Darnelia and Kenzie baited Clint.

I started shaking, wanting to stop my friends from being torn apart, when suddenly Kye lost his shit.

I’d never been more turned on.