“What?”
“The next question!” Rex shouted. “How many oceans border the United States?”
“Catch! Catch!” Max yelled.
But he was too late. One of the girls had already yelled, “One. The Pacific. Duh.”
“Good Lord,” Max grumbled.
The next pair went and got the question wrong. Then again, was there ever any hope they’d get it right? It’s not like they exactly picked the sharpest tools in the shed for this show. I wonder what that said about my own intelligence? Hmm.
“And we’re back to the first team!” Rex shouted.
“Free Edward,” Max grumbled.
“Stop addressing him.” My eyes fell again to Max’s pants. “It encourages him . . . more.”
“What can I say, when I name pets, they immediately take a liking to me.”
“Pets?”
Okay, so, I was officially turned off, no lust, nothing. Wow. Just. Wow. He thought of his penis as a pet? How weird was that?
“Your question.” Rex pulled up a card and read from it. “What are the Seven Wonders of the World?”
Max sighed.
But I actually knew it. “Colossus of Rhodes, Great Pyramid, Hanging Gardens of Babylon, Temple of Artemis, Zeus’s Statue, Lighthouse of Alexandria, and the Mausoleum.”
“Wow.” Rex squinted. “Correct! And it seems since you’re the only team to actually get one right, you win!”
Max mouthed, “I love you” to me. I was ready to walk up to him and give him a high five. When he was cut down.
The minute his body hit the ground a small snake slithered out from his pants. “ ’Bye, Edward, be free!”
“Ah.” I hunched down next to him. “So that’s Edward.”
“The things he’s seen and survived. We should all be as strong as Edward.” He sighed and looked at my torn shirt. “Oh, and P.S.: Thanks for the trail into hell. For a minute there I was going to change your nickname from Little B to Gretel, but then the whole rope incident happened and—”
“And now we feast!” Rex announced.
People appeared out of nowhere with food in their hands and began leading everyone away from Max.
Music started.
And Max visibly relaxed.
We’d officially made it through one day.
Only twenty more to go!
Yeah, he wasn’t going to make it.
Then again, I probably wasn’t either.
“Shall we?” Max offered his hand. I took it and was followed by Reid and the rest of the production crew. It wasn’t until we sat down at the head of the table that I remembered cameras were still on us.
Crap.
I was getting singled out as the favorite.
Which meant only one thing.
I looked around the table as the girls glared in my direction.
Yeah, I was going to be a target.
Max lifted his wineglass into the air. “To the Island!”
“Cheers!” the girls yelled.
We set our glasses down; something touched my right thigh. I looked down to see Max’s hand. He didn’t move it. Not until it was time to go back to our huts, and even then, I felt the warmth of his fingertips long after I’d left him.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
MAX
All was quiet as I walked back to my hut. Big Al and the camera crew yawned the entire way—but I was anything but tired.
I felt a bit . . . on edge.
Then again, I’d spent the better part of my day getting chased by a goat, choked by seaweed, and attacked by a killer garter snake named Edward, and I’d finally ended said day of hell upside down while that same snake nearly nicked me in the balls, missing by what I can only assume was the grace of God, and biting my thigh.
“You heading in?” Big Al asked, pushing open the door to the hut. “Your call time’s at seven, so I’d try to get some sleep if I were you.”
“My call time?”
“For your confessional.” Big Al yawned again. “We’ll go over all the details of yesterday, gauge how you’re doing, and set you up for your date tomorrow evening.”
“Date.” My lips formed into a smile. “With Becca.”
“And the scary one.” Big Al nodded. “Good luck with that one.”
“Right,” I grunted and stepped into the small hut. It felt empty. Then again, the past few weeks I’d been not only camping out with Jason but wherever I could. I hated being alone. It made me feel—lonely. And it wasn’t because of the typical reasons.
I wasn’t abandoned as a child.
My parents didn’t lock me in my room.
My dad never raised his hand to me.
And yeah, I had my fair share of friends when I was little, not to mention enough money to go around just in case I needed to buy a seat on the swing set.
I think it was because I was just used to a lot of . . . busyness. The main reason living near Colt, Milo, and Jason worked was that they were the distraction I needed. My days were consumed with making sure Jason didn’t physically harm himself or run into anything, and helping out Milo and Colt, who were renovating their house. I was able to supervise.
When I was busy I didn’t have to think about all the other things men my age should be doing. Like working or moving on with their lives rather than thinking about where they’d gone wrong with the girl who got away. Or you know, getting a job.
But when I thought about what men did at my age, twenty-one? Most of them started either careers or families. I was pretty sure my career had been decided for me. Take over the hotel business, make millions, be awesome. Maybe I was trying to push back the inevitable CEO position, white picket fence, and trophy wife holding our twin boy and girl while I wined and dined business professionals from all over the world.