I'm thrilled that we merged. Thrilled. Can't you tell from the sound of my voice? No? Me either. I preferred when it was just us on the beach. Lots of alone time.—Dean Woodall, Day 20
We stopped a few times so Dean could rest, but he insisted on being the one to carry me. It was just as well—Leon was sweating in the hot afternoon sun and I wasn't relishing the thought of rubbing up against him. Dean was sweating too, but leaning against his body and letting him carry me just let my wicked imagination run away with itself, to the point that I was ready to drag him behind the nearest tree and have my way with him.
If it weren't for the way that Lana kept looking back at us with a frown.
And the fact that we were meeting up with six other people who were about to share living space with us.
"Are you nervous about meeting the others?" I asked Dean as we approached the new camp. I could see people standing in the distance and smelled the smoke of a fire. The sun was setting, so I couldn't make out who it was, though I knew the faces remaining in the game by now: Chris and Alys from Team Five (both extremely athletic), Heather from Team Eight (the young, cute grad student), Riley, whose profession I couldn't recall, but I remembered his freckled shoulders from other challenges, and of course Will and Shanna the Bunny. I was a little surprised she'd made it this far, but then again, she was probably good at latching on to a strong man—like Leon before the switch. She seemed to be good friends with Riley now, though she squealed with delight at the sight of Leon and rushed over to hug him as we arrived in camp. She also looked like nothing but skin and bones… and a large set of implants. The others just looked skinny in comparison.
They watched me with interest as Dean moved close to the fire and set me down gently and then the introductions began. The men slapped Dean on the back and congratulated him on arriving, and the women hugged him. I kind of sat on the bench and watched, elevating my foot and trying not to look as awkward as I felt.
"Oh wow, you didn't evac?" Shanna said as she looked over at me. "I thought you broke your foot."
"Just a sprain," I repeated for the billionth time. "Should be better in a few days."
"Huh."
I couldn't tell if that was an insulting noise or an 'I underestimated you' noise. A few of the others crowded around as if just now noticing that I was here, but I noticed that Dean seemed to be the star of the show. I fielded questions about my ankle as I watched him, laughing and rubbing his shoulders where I'd leaned earlier for several hours. A cameraman hovered nearby, just on the fringes of camp, and I noticed the others paid no more attention to him than I did.
"We have a Tribal Summons," Heather said, waving the others to the back of the camp.
"Already?" said Chris.
"It looks like food!"
That was all it took for all of the remaining players to flood over to the edge of camp and head to the decorated, ornate trunk. In the darkness I couldn't see anything, and I couldn't get up to follow. Depressed, I noticed that not even Dean had hung around camp to see if I wanted to join them.
It was just a momentary slip, I reasoned, but it still stung. I stared at the flickering fire and ignored the cameraman as he zoomed in on my face. Stupid ankle. Stupid team not even noticing that I was here alone.
"Sandwiches! And champagne!" I heard Shanna squeal, and the others erupted into a flurry of conversation.
My stomach growled. I wanted to weep as I imagined them scarfing down the food, hands grabbing. Maybe someone would save me a sandwich.
A female giggle arose from the group. "Don't drink all of it now—save some for later!"
Sigh. Maybe not.
I supposed that I could call out and remind them that I was stuck here on the bench, but I kept my mouth shut. Arriving at camp had been a bit awkward—my foot injury had made them unsure of what to do with me. I had no doubt that if we were still playing on teams, I'd be voted off first. Now that we were all one big team and all challenges and rewards, I was pretty much safe—I'd be extremely safe, actually. I wasn't going to win any challenges on my own now, after all.
Safe as could be, as long as I didn't starve to death.
"Here," a familiar voice said, and I felt something cold touch my shoulder.
I jerked around in surprise and stared at the champagne bottle pressed against my skin and Dean's grinning face.
"Thought I'd bring you something. There's enough for everyone, but not for long." In his other hand, he held out the large end of a massive sub sandwich.
Happiness swept over me as he sat next to me and handed me the sandwich. More than the food, it was that he hadn't forgotten me.
"Did I ever mention that you are my favorite man on the island?" I said as he offered the champagne to me and I took a swig. It tingled in my mouth, all fizz and alcohol, and it was lovely.
"I'd better be," is all he said, and we didn't talk as we ate the sandwich and drank more alcohol. I blushed at the meaningful look he gave me, wondering if he was feeling that same swelling in his heart that I was.
That swelling that told me that I was completely, ridiculously head over heels for the guy.
Eventually others trickled back to camp, eating their sandwiches and passing around more champagne. Bottle after icy bottle was produced from a cooler shaped to look like a treasure chest, and another two cameramen had arrived. I guessed what was going on—good TV was a bunch of starving idiots getting drunk on champagne and partying, and the team was all too willing to comply. Heck, I was too.
The revelry went on for a few hours, it seemed, until someone laughingly pointed out, "Hey, we have a new shelter."
All heads turned in that direction.
I was struck by a sudden bout of nervousness—who would be sleeping where? Luckily at that moment, no one seemed to be in much of a mood to sleep. They crawled all over the shelter, exploring and exclaiming over the fact that we had pillows—the first ones in three weeks. Instead, the drunks staggered over it and laughed, and then the partying continued.
My own head was feeling swimmy at the moment, the result of too much alcohol on a too-starved and tired body. I was feeling good, too, and I looked over at Dean and wished at that moment that we were alone together instead of stuck with all these people.
He glanced over at me and seemed to share the same thought. Desire flicked across his face, then quickly concealed itself again. He glanced at the group, laughing and hanging all over each other. They were singing songs by the campfire, though a few less hardy had collapsed in the shelter in the distance and were making use of the new pillows.
"Come on," he said in a low voice, and began to help me up from my seat. He gave me a meaningful look that made my body flare with need.
I leaned heavily on him and glanced at the others, wondering how we'd ditch them. Dean solved the problem, however. "I'm taking Abby to bed," he said to the group, who waved us off without looking back. And with that, he swept me into his arms and whispered, "They're too drunk to realize where we're really going, and by the time they do, it won't matter."
"Sounds good to me," I whispered back, trying to hide the nervous giggle that threatened to erupt. Sneaking away to have sex? It felt so very high school. And damn if I wasn't excited about it, too.
We barely made it into the bushes before Dean's mouth was hot on mine, tasting of champagne, and the scent of his skin—smoky and masculine—surrounded me.
"Look out for my ankle," I murmured against his mouth as he set me down on a nearby fallen coconut tree.
"I have no intention of forgetting any part of you," Dean said, kneeling between my spread knees. He crouched on the sand and stared up at me from between my thighs, a devilish grin on his face.
I clung to the tree for support when he began to tug off my bikini bottom. "What are you doing?"
His mouth pressed hot against my flesh as he bared it, his hands anchoring at my hips. "Team-building exercise," he breathed against my belly.
"We're merged now," I protested weakly, scanning the tree line in case one of our tribemates went looking for us.
"Give me a minute," Dean said with a low chuckle. "We'll do all the merging you want."
I began to get caught up in the moment, especially when his mouth pressed a few more kisses on my inner thigh. My fingers tangled in his short hair, wild from our days on the island. "So what is this 'alliance' going to do for me, I wonder?"
"Let me show you," he said, and his mouth dipped lower.
***
"Wake up." Someone nudged my arm.
I mumbled, ducking my head under my arm to avoid the sunlight. The bed was so comfortable that I didn't want to get up. My head rested on a soft pillow and two warm bodies were pressed against both sides of me. Behind me, someone had their arm wrapped around my waist, and I heard the soft chatter of voices in the distance.
"Not just yet," I mumbled and snuggled deeper. "Five more minutes."
A hot mouth pressed to my bare shoulder. "Wakey wakey." Dean brushed his mouth against my skin.
My eyes flew open and I stared at the broad back that I was currently snuggled up against. Tattoos covered one arm and "LIVE FREE" was scrawled across the shoulder blades six inches from my nose.
Leon. With Dean behind me.
A bit unnerved at realizing that Leon had crawled next to me in my sleep (and that I'd cuddled up against his warmth), I sat up, pushing my curly hair out of my face and trying not to frown. Dean's hand lay low on my hip, resting possessively on me.
We were the only three left in the bed. I squinted into the distance where the others stood near the fire, the early morning sunlight trickling in and bathing everyone in a dull gray pallor. Storm clouds had rolled in overnight, and the warm sun was hidden, leaving only storm clouds behind. One or two of the tribemates in the distance didn't seem to be super chipper—Shanna held her head in her hands, probably the result of overindulging last night.
I glanced over at Dean. He lay in the bed looking up at me with an amused expression, his other arm tucked under his head. Beneath him, a thick bed of palm leaves had been crushed and trampled—probably by the rest of the tribe. He looked so sleepy and sexy that I wanted to run away from everyone else and do a repeat performance of last night's lovemaking.
"How's your ankle?"
I glanced down at it. It did seem a bit less swollen than yesterday, though it was turning a lovely purple shade. "Still attached."
"Always good to hear," he said, his thumb grazing idly along my hip. Just that small motion was enough to make my breath catch in my throat and start a pulsing low in my sex.
I reached down and brushed my thumb over his lower lip. He bit down on it and I inhaled sharply at the look he sent my way. We might have been closer to the end of the game now that we were with everyone else, but I knew he was thinking what I was—that we wouldn't have minded a few more days alone in our small cove by ourselves.
"Hey," someone called nearby, and it came with the sound of someone approaching through the sand. "You guys awake?"
Heather, from Team Five. I pulled away from Dean and shot her a guilty look. Her hair was pulled into two pigtails on either side of her face and she gave us both a curious look that had me blushing.
"Am I… interrupting?" she began.
"Nope, we were just waking up," I said. "Breakfast ready?" I began to slide off the bed platform, then frowned down at my ankle. Drat. Still stranded.
"Here, I'll help ya," Leon said at my side, and before I could protest, he was swinging me up in his arms and carrying me over to the fire with the others. Alarmed, I shot a look over at Dean, who looked less-than-thrilled with Leon's actions. His fist was clenched—angry?—and I watched him calmly lower it and deliver a cheerful smile to Heather, reaching over to tweak one of her pigtails in a flirty manner.
I didn't like that at all, especially when she giggled and poked him back. "Tribal Summons this morning."
"Already?" I asked, but my question went unanswered as Leon set me down on one of the log-seats in the middle of camp. All eyes turned to my ankle.
"It's better today," I assured them, despite my grand entrance. All that focus on my injury made me nervous. But then Lana came and sat next to me, linking her arm through mine, and the nervous feeling fell away. She was doing her best to show everyone that things were fine, and she was supporting me. I appreciated it, too.
"We already read the mail once. Sorry we didn't wait for you," she said in a tone that wasn't that apologetic after all.
"No worries," Dean said in his cheerful drawl. I took a cue from his manner and didn't protest, though part of me didn't care for it. Being in an entire tribe of people was different than just hanging out with one. "Can we see it?"
Shanna handed Dean the card, and he immediately handed it to me before he even had a chance to read it. I flushed at that casual gesture that seemed so completely uneasy to me, and my face turned bright red. I flipped over the note and gave (what I hoped was) a casual laugh. "He knows I'm impatient."
No one else laughed. Awkward.
With that, I began to read aloud. "Roses are red, violets are blue, keep your team in the lead, don't be number two. The sky is blue, the grass is green, there can be only one winner from the chosen team." I flipped the card over to make sure that I wasn't missing anything. Nada. "That's, uh, interesting."
"Any thoughts?" Alys asked me.
"They need to hire better writers for this show," I said. "They rhymed 'team' with 'green.'"
"She meant the challenge, you egghead," Lana said and pinched my arm, a little hard.
"Ow! And I know she meant the challenge," I said, trying not to sulk. Great, now my arm throbbed in addition to my ankle. "Obviously they're going to split us into teams, right? And I guess whichever team advances, only one person gets to win?"
"That's kind of what we thought too," someone else admitted.
The conversation spiraled out from there, and soon everyone forgot about the awkwardness between Dean and me, and Heather seemed nonchalant. Only Lana watched me with hawk-like eyes as the group discussed if teams would be picked or randomly chosen.
"What if it's a running challenge?" someone said, and immediately all eyes swung back to me.
I forced myself to smile in a lighthearted manner. "I guess if it is I won't be much competition, will I?"
Several smiled at that. Dean didn't, but he didn't frown, either. Instead, he took the note from my hands and read it thoughtfully again, saying nothing.
I had no idea what was going on in his mind.
***
Luck must have been smiling on me, because when we got to the challenge, I saw chairs instead of an obstacle course. That was a good sign.
"You'll be divided into two teams for this challenge," Chip said, as if we hadn't already guessed as much. "The first round will be trivia—how much do you know about this show?" He paused to let that sink in, and then continued. "The next round will be for the winning team alone—you will compete individually in an endurance challenge."
My heart fell at that. So much for hoping my ankle wouldn't be a liability.
Team captains were randomly selected—Lana was one, and to my surprise, Dean was the second. Lana had first choice and she selected Riley, the strongest remaining guy. No surprise there.
"Dean, select a female player," Chip reminded him.
"I pick Abby," he said and glanced over at me.
"Interesting choice," Chip said. "Care to explain it?"
"Abby's smart," Dean said with a shrug. "And we work well together."
I hobbled over to his side and looked out at the remaining players. It could be seen as a strategic move, really—I was too hurt to compete in the second half of the competition. Providing our team got past the first round, it'd be a smart move and I wondered if the others saw it that way.
Didn't seem like it. As I glanced over at Heather, she made a kissy face and giggled, which caused me to flush. So much for strategy.
The rest of the teams were picked accordingly. Leon ended up with Lana, and we had Will, Alys, and Heather in addition to myself and Dean. After teams were selected, we moved to the designated playing area. Two benches had been left—one for each team, with a slate for each team to write their answer. I sat on the end of our bench as Dean took up the chalk opposite Lana, who stood at the chalkboard for her team.
"First team to get ten points for correct answers will move on to the next round," Chip said. "First question…"
The trivia questions were random things about the islands—the history of the native people of the Islands, the explorers that found them, and a few questions scattered here and there about the game and players that had been voted off. It was clear from the get-go that Lana's team was lacking in the history department. As for me, since my day job was to retain useless bits of trivia and pepper them into magazine articles and book reviews, well, we did really well. By the time Dean put down the chalk and our team hit ten points, I'd been responsible for half of them. My shoulders ached from so many vigorous slaps on the back. We were winning, and it was exciting.
"Let's move on to round two," Chip said, and everyone stood but me. "The endurance part of the challenge." He gestured to the nearby edge of the water. "Do you see the poles out there in the distance?"
Five poles jutted from the water a good deal out from shore. Each one was colored a separate color, and I had to raise my hand to my eyes and squint to make them out. More like a sprint than endurance, but it didn't matter because I wouldn't be able to do either.
"Your job is to run out, swim across and get to the top of your pole. At the top of your pole is a lever you can release. Doing so will shoot your flag into the air. The person that releases their flag first wins immunity and will be safe at our first Judgment."
The others lined up at the designated starting line. Chip glanced over at me at my spot on the bench. "Going to participate, Abby?"
I could practically hear the smirk in his voice. Bastard. He liked seeing me suffer. "I'm going to sit this one out, unfortunately. Sorry." I was tempted to hold out my injured foot and wiggle it, but drawing more attention to it than I already had would be a bad idea.
"Contestants ready?"
"Set…"
"Go!"
I held my breath as Dean surged forward, his muscles flexing and golden in the sunlight. He was beautiful and lean and strong, and the others stood no chance against him. Within moments, Dean had cut through the water, swimming twice as fast as his closest competition. His flag shot into the air a shortly after that, and Dean punctuated this with a yell of enthusiasm and pumping his fist. From my spot on the bench, I clapped excitedly, exhilarated at his win.
The others looked markedly less enthusiastic. I couldn't blame them—Dean was making the rest of us look like amateurs.
***
"So who are we voting for tonight?" I limped toward the Judgment campfire, a few steps behind Lana. Camp had been noisy with everyone congratulating Dean on his win and chattering about Judgment that night. I'd thought the tribe would be pensive after realizing we'd have to get rid of someone, but they seemed buoyant. Everyone hung around camp and talked and laughed, and Dean was the center of attention. Shanna seemed to be paying a lot of attention to him as well, and that irritated me, but I said nothing. After all, Dean was sleeping with me. We had plans for a Final Two and who knew where it would go from there?
I didn't have a chance to talk to Dean, either—people were constantly around and I was avoiding walking because of my ankle. I had waited all day to try and get a few moments alone with him, but the only time he'd left camp was to go get water with Lana. When they came back, she'd given me a thumbs-up that made me feel better. Even if I hadn't had a chance to talk to Dean, she had my back.
Still, I was going into the vote with no clue who to vote for. And when we lined up, Dean was at the front of the line because he had immunity. I pulled up the rear because I couldn't walk fast, thanks to my bad ankle. Lana loitered at the back near me and I slowed down, pretending to catch my breath.
"So who are we voting for?" I leaned heavily on my makeshift crutch and put my other hand to my ribs, pretending to catch my breath.
She paused as well, waiting for me. Her hands were on her hips, and she flicked a glance back to the front of the line. "Riley. He's strong and we need to get rid of him."
Made sense. I gave her a thumbs-up and we began to catch up with the others.
***
"I'll read the first vote," Chip said at the front of the room. He held up the first slate and I glanced at it with mild interest, more interested in Dean as he sat there with the immunity belt around his waist. He hadn't come over to talk to me today, and I wondered if his feelings were changing now that we were around the others. Maybe he wasn't interested in me anymore.
Of course, that was silly, I told myself as he glanced down at me and winked. One day wasn't enough to change a guy's mind about a girl… was it?
"First vote—Abby."
I didn't recognize the handwriting, but I wasn't surprised. If we had more immunity challenges that involved teaming up, I'd be a liability. Someone was bound to write my name down, but my alliance had my back.
The next vote was my own handwriting. "Riley," Chip said, holding up the slate for all of us to see.
The next: "Will." That was random. I idly wondered who had bothered to vote for Will. He was a sweet guy and not exactly kicking anyone's butt in challenges.
Lost in my musing, I almost missed the next vote. "Abby."
I frowned, sitting up a little straighter.
Chip turned around the next slate with great relish. "Abby." And the next. "Abby."
Four for me. My pulse was pounding in my veins so loud that I could barely hear Chip over the roaring in my ears. "Fifth vote—Abby. That's enough. You have been exiled from Endurance Island."
I sat in my seat, numb, before instinct kicked in and I got to my feet, leaning on my crutch. Hands patted me on the back and my tribemates murmured that they were sad to see me go.
Big fat liars.
I moved forward to the Exile Archway and glanced back at Dean. Poor guy—I wondered what he was thinking at the moment. Was he upset? Angry?
But when I glanced back, Dean wasn't looking at me. His head was bent close to Lana's and they were both whispering furiously.
A cold pit settled in my stomach. What was going on?
"Time to go, Abby," Chip said impatiently and put a hand to the small of my back. "You've been exiled."
"I'm going, I'm going." I hobbled my way through the archway and down the wooden steps. In the background, I could hear the others leaving the council area, and I felt a pang of loss as I stared at the empty darkness ahead of me.
What had just happened?
"There you are," cried one of the production assistants, and she rushed forward on the sandy path to help me walk forward. "You ready to go?"
"Where are we going?" I stared at her dumbly—she was so clean and fresh. I, well, wasn't.
"To the Exile camp. You're the first person in our jury and we've got special plans for you."
"Yay, me," I said warily, but allowed her to lead the way. Sure enough, she led me out to a dock and we boarded a small boat that took us to a nearby island. I could see the lights and the windows of a cabin in the distance. I should have been excited to see it, because I knew what was coming up—a real bed that I didn't have to share. A shower. Clean clothing. No bugs eating me alive. All the food I could possibly want.
But I was still numb about what had just happened at Judgment. I couldn't get past it, not yet. It was like a raw wound. I wasn't hurt, but I was close. "So what happened back there?"
The assistant looked over at me, her brow wrinkling. "Back at the council? We won't know until someone reviews the voting booth tapes for the show." She shrugged. "Even so, seemed pretty obvious to me that you'd been set up."
It seemed pretty obvious to me, too. But I wanted to know who had done it. Who had flipped the entire tribe against me so completely? And what role did Dean play in all of this? Had he voted with them, or had he been just as surprised as I was?
I wanted to trust him, to believe in him, but my mind kept focusing on that last day in camp. Of Shanna with her hands on his shoulders and Dean laughing. Dean winning immunity. Dean unable to spend a moment alone with me after the challenge. Dean with his head bent toward Lana's after my vote, whispering madly.
It all left a sick feeling in my gut.
Eventually the production assistant—Jamie, I later found out—had me settled in at the cabin. There were a bunch of bunk beds and multiple rooms in the beautiful four-bedroom villa, with a wet bar and the biggest, most well-stocked kitchen I'd ever seen. There were even a few people on hand to cook for me and fuss over my skinny, bug-bitten body.
After a midnight meal in which I'd eaten a little bit of everything they'd tossed at me, I found myself alone in the villa. Jamie promised to show me the impromptu studio where the crew was set up, but in the morning. And then there were post interviews and all kinds of promotional things to go through for the next few days before the next person was voted off. But for tonight, it was just me, my chosen bed, and the shower I was dying to take.
The shower itself struck me as a palpable thing. Just like the cabin Dean and I had shared for a reward, this one had swinging wooden doors and a massive shower room. The reminder hit me hard, and I began to cry quietly before I'd even turned the nozzle on, and I let myself weep as I showered, soaped my body up, rinsed, and started the process all over again.
Stupid to get so worked up over a game. Stupid to cry about it. Stupid to think I wasn't going to get voted off. Strangely enough, those weren't the parts that bothered me. My restless mind kept circling back to Dean.
I'd fallen for the guy—hard.
And I was beginning to think he'd betrayed me.