Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Our first full day at our camp was quiet. After that morning exchange, Archer and I only spoke when we had to. We finished our shelter and explored the area a little, and after a day spent exerting myself in the heat, I went to sleep as soon as the sun set—in the shelter with my back to him.
“How much water have you had today?” he asked as we were about to leave camp on the morning of our second full day on the island.
“Enough,” I replied shortly.
Nutter had silently delivered a note and a map telling us when and where we needed to be for our first challenge. I was nervous about what we’d have to do, because while I got some exercise as a coach at my school, I wasn’t much of an athlete myself. I didn’t want to fall flat on my face while being filmed for the world to see.
“This heat is no joke. You’ll get dehydrated,” Archer said, running a hand through his dark hair and putting his Mammoths baseball cap on backward.
He looked hot. Not sweaty, on the verge of melting hot, but sexy, take me now hot. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing I thought so, though.
“I don’t need you telling me how much to drink,” I said, pulling my ponytail through my own University of Iowa baseball cap. “Or where to pee. Or anything else. Let’s walk to the challenge in contemplative silence.”
He shook his head. “We’re going to be stuck on this island for a while. There’s no one else to talk to. Can’t we bury the hatchet?”
He was over our relationship. Ready to move on to the friendly phase. And before coming here, I thought I was over it too. But for me, the hatchet was still sharp and very much able to inflict pain. I wanted to put it all past me, but I couldn’t.
“We need to get going,” I said, ignoring his question.
“Lo…” He sighed heavily.
My heart pounded. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t let him smooth things over with me just to make things easier here. If he was uncomfortable being around me, he’d just have to deal with it.
“We don’t want to be late.” I put the strap of my canteen over my shoulder and set out in the direction of the site on the map we’d been given for today’s competition.
Machete in hand, Archer followed, passing me on the beach to lead the way.
The site was more than a mile from our camp. I was drenched in sweat by the time we arrived. Several of the other teams had already arrived and waited by a flag.
The sand had been neatly combed into lanes on what I assumed was an obstacle course. My stomach churned nervously at the thought of what we’d be doing. I’d just gotten here, and I had a lot more to prove. I didn’t want to screw up and get sent home on only the third day.
“Hey,” Andrea said, walking up from behind me.
I hugged her, happy to see a friendly face.
“Hey, how’s it going?” I asked her.
She rolled her eyes. “I haven’t kicked him in the balls yet.”
Rod met Archer’s gaze, and they exchanged a knowing look. Like it was such hell dealing with their annoying exes. What a couple of saints we had on our hands.
Josh arrived and the producers positioned us in our teams so we could be interviewed. Once the cameras were rolling, Josh asked a few teams how the first night was.
“I woke up next to my ex-husband this morning, so it was basically my worst nightmare,” one woman said.
“Same,” her partner echoed.
At least Archer and I hadn’t been married. I couldn’t imagine having to sleep next to a man I’d married and divorced.
“On Exiled, you never know which day will be your last,” Josh said. “Let’s talk about this competition. We’ve got sixteen lanes ready and we’re going to play some sand hockey.”
A production assistant demonstrated what we had to do. The men had to use a hockey stick to get a puck down a three-hundred-foot lane of sand and into a goal. Then they had to grab a flag with their team logo from the top of their goal and run it back to their partners.
“The women will take that flag and swim out to a pier and put it on one of the poles set up for your team in the water,” Josh said, sounding way more excited than I felt about it. “The first team to finish gets the contents of this treasure chest, and believe me, it’s worth it. The final two teams to finish will be eliminated from the competition. Who’s ready to play?”
Everyone cheered, and I plastered on a fake smile. I was screwed. Andrea was an Olympic swimmer. Winning wasn’t even an option, unless Archer could get me a thirty-minute lead. I was just hoping to finish ahead of two other teams so we could stay. I wanted that prize money more than ever.