For the Right Reasons (22 page)

Mary Kate nodded. “You okay now?”

“I can now say it was for the best,” I said. “I was never completely comfortable with her. She was very sweet, nurturing, and loving, and I could see myself marrying her. But I never showed her the goofy side of me.”

In fact, when my name was being thrown around as the next Bachelor, people in the press and social media said I was too serious and boring to carry an entire season.

“Now’s your chance to change that,” she said.

The week of preparation came down to this moment. Since I’d been standing in front of the girls’ mansion for so long—“hurry up and wait” is
The Bachelor
filming philosophy—the anticipation kept building. My nerves were getting the best of me, so I shut my eyes and asked God to lead me in the right direction. The cameras caught this moment, and the producers decided to air it. I don’t think anyone realized I was praying.

“Look, he’s so nervous!” a girl in the approaching limo screamed as they drove up.

Hearing the squeals from the arriving limos was—I had to admit—pretty nice. It felt different being the star of the show. Now, instead of being one of dozens of people trying to make it from week to week, I was the one who would decide who was staying or going. It felt good to be more in control of my situation. Plus, I had an army of people waiting on me hand and foot. Being the central figure of a television show, if only temporarily, felt really empowering. I don’t think it went to my head, but it allowed me to be a lot more comfortable and natural than I had been on
The Bachelorette
.

Did I believe this was the best way to meet women? No.

I never anticipated falling in love on
The Bachelorette
. But my cynicism quickly evaporated when I fell in love with Emily and was convinced I’d spend the rest of my life loving her and her daughter. After the heartbreak
of losing her, I came to realize that while my feelings for Emily were real, she wasn’t the one for me.

So there I was, standing in a suit hoping that my future wife would step out of one of the five limos lining the driveway. Would this work out? Doubtful. I’ve always been selective in whom I date. (Even as I write that, I hear Emily’s words echo in my ears: “No, you’re picky.”) There was a really good chance I could meet all twenty-six girls and not have a connection with any of them, no matter how excited they were when they drove up in front of the mansion. Their giggling and squeals may have given me a big head momentarily, but it gave me enough confidence to get through the introductions.

I was eager to meet the women.
Will I feel a connection with anyone? Am I going to meet my future wife tonight? Can I really carry on twenty-six different conversations with twenty-six different women? Am I going to make it out alive?

Those questions, concerns, and fears were all put to rest as soon as the first person stepped out of the limo. The women amazed me. They seemed sweet, funny, and gorgeous! Any nerves I had going into the first night were calmed by the unusual and very funny antics of a few women, who—of course—tried to pull some stunts in order to stand out among the crowd.

A woman named Robyn attempted a back handspring—in her formal dress, no less—and landed on her head. While I hated that it happened, I have to admit, it really broke the ice. I love a girl who doesn’t take herself too seriously. A woman named Lesley definitely scored points with me when she pulled out a football. But the woman who made the biggest entrance of the night had to be a woman named Lindsay. The girl showed up in a wedding dress! Was she crazy? Probably, but I definitely wouldn’t forget her.

There were other antics. One brought pennies to toss into the fountain, one left a lipstick imprint on my face, and one did a
Fifty Shades of Grey
thing. Though I hadn’t read the books, when she pulled a tie out of her cleavage and wrapped it around me, I got the message.

The woman who made the best impression on me was Tierra. Her piercing eyes and beautiful smile stopped me in my tracks. I knew right then and
there that I wanted to give her a rose. The producers had told me, “If you see a girl outside after she gets out of the limo and you want to give a first impression rose to her, then go ahead and hand it out.” Handing out more than one rose—and right there on the spot—had never been done before on the show. I didn’t stop to think that by giving her a rose so quickly I might be putting a target on her back. All I knew was that I wanted to spend more time with this woman with the big, welcoming smile.

“Stand here and wait for me just a second,” I said. It was a little awkward to leave her standing there in the middle of the driveway, but I didn’t actually
have
a rose.

“I’m gonna give a rose to Tierra,” I said to a producer, who had been hiding around corners so he wouldn’t be seen on camera.

“Okay, we have to get Harrison in place.”

Chris Harrison is a real guy’s guy who loves to talk about sports. Even if he’s in the middle of a crass joke, he can flip a switch and suddenly become insta-host. Once he was in place, I walked into the boardroom as if he’d been there all along.

“Oh, hey, Chris,” I said. “I want to hand out a rose.”

Chris switched from his casual, hanging-out self into his serious
Bachelor
-hosting self and said, “Okay, Sean, if you’re sure.”

When I gave Tierra the rose, she lit up. I knew I’d made the right decision.

A girl named Catherine got out of the limo wearing a sparkly navy dress and said, “Wow, you’re such a hunk.” There was something quirky and funny about her, which I also liked. I wanted everyone to be more authentic this time around, and it looked as though we’d have no problem with that.

After meeting all the women, I was finally able to go inside and hang out with them all. I’d never been so overwhelmed in my life!

“I want you guys to be comfortable around me because I wasn’t always a hundred percent comfortable with Emily,” I said. “We’re never going to figure out if we’re meant to be together if we’re not real. If you’re feeling nervous at all, just be yourself.”

After my speech, I sat down and talked to each woman on an individual
basis—at least, once the initial shock of being in a room full of beautiful women wore off. As soon as I got into my conversations, it was clear they were smart and accomplished too. I’ve always said there’s nothing sexier than a woman’s intellect—and I was certainly not disappointed by this group.

Honestly, it was exhausting. I wanted to be attentive so I really focused on each woman, but it wore me out. Everything takes so much longer than you can imagine. The hours ticked by on the grandfather clock in the mansion as the cameras were being set up for the rose ceremony. There came a point during the evening when I had to get away for a few minutes by myself to eat and decompress. Even though time passed, the wine and champagne never stopped flowing. That’s why viewers at home might have seen some of the women drink a bit too much. Lindsay, in her wedding dress, was a little tipsy by the time I made my way over to her during the cocktail party. She invited me to dance—without music—and even asked me to kiss her.

“How about I kiss you on the cheek?” I offered.

“Are you one of those
traditional
people?”

“Maybe a little more than you are.” I laughed.

I didn’t fault her for having one too many drinks because I’m sure she didn’t anticipate the party lasting so long—it didn’t wind down until seven o’clock the next morning. I only drank Red Bull because I wasn’t going to be the guy who casually sipped on a drink all night and ended up with a lampshade on my head.

The night was both invigorating and exhausting because I had to stay focused when having conversations with so many women—making eye contact, keeping facts about them straight, and remembering their hometowns—even though I could tell immediately that some of them were not going to work out. Thankfully, Brenner, assigned to be my handler again, ushered me from one girl to another and helpfully reminded me of the pertinent details.

When I made my way over to talk to Catherine, she pulled out a tray of ice cream with four bowls.

“Which type of ice cream would you choose?” she asked, pointing to the chocolate, vanilla, cookies and cream, and mint chocolate chip servings.

“I guess cookies and cream,” I said.

“Good choice!” she said, indicating it was some sort of “manly flavor.” I’m not sure the science behind her ice cream test was rock-solid, but I knew from the beginning I liked hanging out with her. Was there a romantic connection? Not really. However, I tried to remember the words of wisdom Mary Kate gave me before the show started.

“You’re going to do yourself a great disservice if you pick out your final four on the very first night,” she’d said to me. “Stay open-minded.”

And so I stayed open to all the ladies, handing out roses to the ones I liked and wanted to get to know more. I thought handing out roses left and right would make the actual ceremony easier. But when it came time to stand in front of the ladies during the ceremony, I realized it made it more challenging. I looked at the tray, and there were so few roses left. But in front of me, there were still so many great women.

There were only seven roses to give, which meant several women would have to go home that night. I felt bad about doing it, because I know there’s a certain level of disappointment that comes with being sent home on the first night.

I’d have to get used to making tough decisions.

After getting the first night out of the way, I was excited to get to know the women better. However, I was nervous about the dynamic of the group date because group dates with Emily had been so uncomfortable. No one really acted like himself in our group dates because it’s awkward to share time with the same person. As the Bachelor
,
I wanted to set the tone and try to treat everyone equally. I knew this was a virtual impossibility, especially when I found out we were all having a “Harlequin date” and had to act out romance novels. Because romance novels are full of, well, romance, things got uncomfortable pretty quickly. Soon, I was kissing one of the girls while the other women looked on. Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoyed kissing. But I didn’t enjoy kissing in front of a room full of people whom the PDA is actually hurting.

I could tell Tierra was visibly upset.

“What’s going on?” I asked when I could pull her away. She’d definitely won me over on the first night, and I wanted her to be happy—even if the circumstances were a bit odd.

“I’m here for you,” she said. “But I don’t want to make friends with the other women.”

This is a long ride
, I thought.
Don’t isolate yourself too much because you might be living with these girls for the next ten weeks
. However, I could tell she was uneasy about the idea of vying for attention in a larger group. I understood that.

As awkward as the group date was, I had a good moment with Catherine. She slipped me a note that read, “I’m vegan but I love the beef.”

Of course, this was implying that I’m a beefcake, which I loved. I’d known Catherine was beautiful, but only on our group date did I begin to see that she also had a great sense of humor. As a steak-loving Texan, I’d never dated a vegan. Regardless, I definitely wanted to spend more time with this girl from Seattle.

The one-on-one dates gave me a chance to really get to know the women. My first of the week was with a woman named Desiree, someone with whom I’d gotten along so well the first night. Talking to Des by the fire at the bachelor pad was everything I hoped it would be. She was witty, sarcastic, intelligent, loving, and caring, and our morals seemed to line up. Did I mention she’s beautiful? This girl had it all, and I could feel myself really starting to fall for her. We ended the night with a romantic dip in the hot tub. She left the date with a rose, and I left it thinking Des might just be the one for me.

Of course, there was never any time to sit around and dream of one person.

During the next few weeks, we had one-on-one dates, two-on-one dates, and group dates. Some dates were better than others. One good group date was when we got together on the beach for a volleyball match. Apparently, none of these ladies had ever played volleyball, but we had a great time playing around, tossing the football, and throwing the Frisbee. Catherine got on my back to see if I could do push-ups with her added weight—which,
of course, I could. I felt comfortable around her, and she seemed to make the most of every situation. This was a good trait to have, because the next group date—at a roller derby—was pretty disastrous.

At first, I thought it would be fun to see who would compete and embrace the physicality of the sport. But as soon as the girls put on their skates, I knew it was not practical to ask the women to skate on an embanked track while hitting one another. Everyone was having a tough time during practice, and then one of the girls—Amanda—fell and busted her chin.

“Let’s do an old-school free skate instead,” I suggested. I was there to spend time with the women, not to watch them hurt one another.