CHAPTERTHREE
Archer
“Any idea how much farther?”Lauren asked from behind me.
“Not far.” I glanced at the map. “Maybe a quarter of a mile? Do you need to take a water break?”
“I’m out of water.”
I stopped and turned, handing her a bottle I’d stuffed in a pocket while still on the boat. “Here—I’ve got plenty.”
She hesitated a second and then took the bottle, drinking half of it. “Thanks.”
I took advantage of the break to check her out again. She was even prettier at twenty-six than she’d been as a teenager. She was a confident woman now, her hips a little wider and dark blond hair longer, her ponytail trailing down her back. In her baseball cap, makeup-free, she looked ready for an adventure.
It was too bad she despised me.
She passed the bottle back and said, “Let’s keep going.”
“You doing okay?”
She glanced back at the cameraman about ten feet behind us. He’d introduced himself to us right after following us into the dense forest—his name was Jeremy Nutter, but he said everyone other than his mom called him Nutter.
“I’m not here,” Nutter reminded us. “Don’t look at me.”
“I’m okay,” Lauren said. “Just really hot. This whole thing feels pretty surreal. I never would’ve imagined I’d be on a reality show on a tropical island, and to top it off, be partnered with you.”
“How long have you known I was going to be your partner?”
“From the beginning. The producers of the show told the women about the concept when they first reached out to us.”
I scoffed and looked to the side. “They sure got their shock value.”
“At least I didn’t slap you,” she said, shrugging.
I looked into her hazel eyes, trying to read her the way I used to be able to. “Did you want to?”
“Yes. Absolutely. Totally.”
“Okay, you only needed to answer once.”
“Let’s get to camp. Like you said, we have a lot to do.”
I turned to lead the way, using the machete to cut away brush when needed. We would have been so fucked without the machete. I wasn’t thrilled Lauren took the hammock, but if she’d taken the fan and the soap, too, I would have lost my mind.
“So how have you been?” I called over my shoulder. “It’s been, what—seven years since we talked?”
“Eight. And it wasn’t much of a talk. You dumped me and that was the end of it.”
I may not have remembered exactly when that conversation took place, but I remembered everything else about it. The hurt in her eyes. Her tears. The doubt I felt over leaving the woman who had become my best friend.
“It wasn’t that simple and you know it, Lo.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said stiffly. “Just get us to camp.”
We walked the rest of the way in silence, and by the time we got to our campsite, I was drenched with sweat and covered in mosquito bites.
“Home sweet home,” I said, approaching a wood post with a small white flag flying from it.
There were two canteens leaning up against the post on the ground. Lauren immediately picked one up.
“Should we go find our well?” she asked.
“It’s not far,” I said, looking at the map. “I want to get started on our shelter while we still have light.”
Our campsite included a long, pristine white beach that backed up to a dense forest. I walked around, checking out the location of the sun and the sturdiness of the trees.
“Right here,” I said. “This is the best place for a shelter. It’s in the shade, we have the forest right behind us as a wind break, and I can use these two trees to make it solid.”
Lauren didn’t even look at me as she said, “I’ll just sleep in the sand. I’m going to check out the water.”
“You can’t sleep in the sand. You’ll get eaten alive by bugs.”
She looked unconcerned as she said, “You can’t tell me what to do. That’s not part of the deal.”
I didn’t remember her being this headstrong. Stubborn at times, yes, but we were only a couple of hours into this thing, and she was already driving me nuts.
“We’re partners,” I reminded her. “And we have a competition soon. You have to get some sleep tonight.”
She ignored me and walked out to the shoreline, looking out at the horizon. Shoes in hand, she walked into the water, getting about knee-deep. I shook my head and forced myself to stay quiet. I would have preferred walking on the beach, too, but shelter was an urgent need.
Nutter followed me as I went into the woods to chop bamboo and trees, dragging them back to camp. On my fifth trip back, Lauren was standing by the pile of materials I’d accumulated, smiling.
“I found an X in the sand,” she said, grinning. “I’m going to dig up the chest.”
I grabbed my T-shirt hanging from the back pocket of my shorts and used it to mop the sweat from my face.
“Good job,” I said, following her. “I’ll help you.”
She led the way to a spot about a hundred feet down the beach, where she dropped down to her knees next to a black X painted on the sand.
It probably wasn’t a good time for a joke about her being on her knees. But when she looked up at me, a slight smile playing on her lips as her eyes danced with happiness, it brought back memories.
Lauren was my first everything. We’d fumbled our way through every sexual position until we perfected them. No matter how much time passed, I’d never forget the way she’d moaned when I did something right for the first time. Or the way she looked as we lay side by side in bed, both of us naked and sated. With pink cheeks and tousled hair, her body a smooth canvas more breathtaking than anything any artist had ever created, she’d been everything I ever wanted and more. Life had been absolutely perfect in those moments.
She started digging with her hands, and I shook my daydream away, dropping to the sand to help. Sand flew behind both of us, and soon we hit something hard.
It was big. Without a shovel, it was hard work unearthing the wood chest with only our hands. Sweat dripped from the tip of my nose and my chin as I kept digging.
“Here’s hoping it’s a freezer,” Lauren cracked.
“Yeah, a cold beer would go down nice right now.”
I was breathing hard by the time I grabbed the handles on each side of the large chest and pulled, trying to free it from the sand. It was stuck. I took a deep breath and went at it again.
Finally, it loosened and I heaved it out of the sand, quickly setting it down again before sitting back, completely winded.
“There’s no lock,” she said. “Just a latch.”
She opened it and looked inside.
“Is it an air conditioner?” I asked, grinning.
“Looks like we got a cast-iron skillet, some dishes, some T-shirts and socks…” She reached in and sorted through the items. “Oh, nice, we got a huge bag of rice. A few spices. And…” She pulled out a bottle of whiskey.
“Hell yeah. Even without ice cubes, I’ll take it.” I reached for the bottle, but she moved her hand before I got to it.
“You can’t drink alcohol out here, Archer.” She rolled her eyes.
My single note of laugher was unamused. “I’m pretty sure I can, actually.”
Setting it outside of my reach, she said, “Alcohol is a diuretic.”
“Whatever that means.” I shrugged. “I’m not planning to chug the whole bottle at once, Lo.”
“Don’t call me that,” she said sharply.
I looked to the sky and then back at her.
“I’m adding you to the list of people who could use a couple of swigs from that bottle,” I said. “So far the list has me and you.”
“Well, neither of us will be drinking any of it. The last thing we need is something that will dehydrate us.”
I stood up, brushing sand from my shorts and legs. Lauren was already on my last fucking nerve.
“You do whatever you want, but you’re not stopping me from having a drink,” I said, crossing my arms. “You knew we were going to be partners, but I just got hit up with that news recently. And I’m single-handedly cutting and hauling wood, and building our shelter while you walk along the beach finding your Zen.”
She stood, too, her eyes wide and her lips parted. “My Zen? Are you out of your fucking mind? Like I could ever feel at peace in your presence.”
I threw my hands in the air. “Here we go. I’m the worst guy ever, just because I didn’t want to get married when I was eighteen.”
“Not because you didn’t want to get married, Archer.” Eyes narrowed and voice raised, Lauren was pissed. “You dumped me to chase women and money and fame, and you never looked back.”
Anger flared in my chest as I said, “You think you know it all, don’t you?”
“You broke my heart.” Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. “I know that.”
Seeing her so emotional got to me. I sighed heavily and said, “Losing you broke my heart, too, Lo.”
“Don’t call me that. And just stop with your bullshit.”
“I wanted you to come with me when I got drafted,” I reminded her. “You’re the one who chose not to.”
“Because I refuse to follow any man around like a groupie. I said we’d have to be engaged for me to uproot my whole life and go with you.”
I forced myself to count to ten before speaking again. I had to rein in this conversation. Lauren and I were sharing some deeply personal stuff in front of a rolling camera.
“This is exactly what the producers of this show want,” I said. “They paired us with our exes so they could film drama and arguments and broadcast it for entertainment.”
Lauren looked over at Nutter and then down at the ground.