Seven Exes Are Eight Too Many

by Heather Wardell

  Louisa hugged me, and surprised me with a kiss on my undamaged cheek. "You're a good girl," she said, looking up at me. "You'll make the right decisions."

  "Thanks," I said, trying not to let my confusion show. What decisions did she mean? Aaron pulled her away from me and hugged her, then sent her toward the boat, saying,"Don't forget to record the show when it airs."

  "Ooh," I called after her. "Could you ask Liv to record it too?"

  She turned around. "Of course. And if she can't, you're welcome to watch it with us."

  I smiled and waved, and Aaron said, "You have no idea what that means. She hates having visitors. She really does like you."

  I grinned at him. "I like her too. Especially how she keeps you under control."

  "What? She does not."

  His apparently genuine surprise made me laugh, and I threw my arms around his neck, feeling a rush of affection for him. He hugged me back then turned me so we stood side by side to wave goodbye as the boats left.

  Once the shore was clear, our boats came in, and Aaron said, "Ready to go?"

  I shook my head. "Have to say goodbye to Ron."

  He released me. "Want me to come with you?"

  "No, I'm fine," I said, not wanting to talk to Ron the loose cannon with Aaron the equally loose cannon right there. "Save me a seat."

  "Gotcha."

  I headed to Ron, standing next to Kent. "Well, bye," I said, not sure what else to say.

  Ron opened his arms to me, and I stepped forward into them, locking my own around his shoulders. No attempts to crush or choke each other this time; instead, his hug was warm and comforting, and I held on tight.

  "You take care, okay?" he said into my ear. "No more falling down."

  "I'll try," I said, smiling, then added, "Thanks for today. It meant so much."

  "Wasn't my idea, but I'm glad I got to see you."

  "Me too," I said, and he squeezed me once more then let me go.

  I didn't leave, though. If it hadn't been Ron's idea, or Peter's, then...

  Kent stood looking at me, his face serious. The camera men on either side of us moved closer, and I swallowed hard. How could I say anything in front of them?

  Our eyes met, and he took a half step forward, blinking twice. "See you tomorrow, MC."

  I knew the blinks meant, "It's okay, no need to thank me" but I wanted to. I looked down, finding the eye contact hard to take, then up at him when I missed it. "I don't know what to say."

  "You don't have to say anything."

  I fixed my eyes on his, trying to forget the cameras. "I... thank you. So much."

  "You're welcome. I hope you enjoyed it."

  Seeing Liv had given me the strength to keep going. He had given me that strength, by giving up half his own time. And his exes would hate him for it. Gratitude filled me and I put a hand on his shoulder, wanting the connection with him. "You have no idea."

  We stood frozen for a heartbeat, then my arms slid around his neck without my conscious direction. At the same moment he stepped forward, and I was at last in his embrace.

  I hadn't realized how much I'd missed it, the way he wrapped his arms one higher and one lower so I felt surrounded and secure, the feel of his palms pressed against me, the strength of his upper back beneath my hands and his chest against mine. Now, though, I didn't know how I'd lived without it. I buried my head in his shoulder, overwhelmed, and he pulled me closer.

  He smelled of the ocean from his swim, but I caught a hint of the scent of his skin under the salt tang and the memories swamped me, turning my body hungry in an instant, making me long to kiss him, to--

  I stumbled back, stunned, and he didn't try to stop me. We stared at each other, and the heat in his eyes! He'd felt it too, then.

  Unable to speak, I turned and hurried to the boat. Aaron, his face blank, helped me in, and we roared away. I didn't let myself look back.

  Chapter Seventeen

  "Why don't you go all the way and change teams?"

  Foolishly, I'd thought Dean might have been too preoccupied with thoughts of Valerie to harass me. He had left me alone for a while, but then we'd all split up after our return to camp, even Aaron saying he needed some time to himself, so Dean hadn't had much opportunity. The first chance he got, though, he attacked.

  When he'd been angry at me before over Kent, I hadn't cared. This time, though, I was furious. With myself.

  I shouldn't have hugged Kent, shouldn't even have touched him. We had no future, and making contact with him made that so much harder to accept. I couldn't let it happen again.

  Still, I hated having to defend myself to Dean.

  "Why do you care?"

  He blinked, obviously not expecting the frustration and anger behind my words. I hadn't expected them myself, but I pressed my advantage. "Do you like me? Do you want me back?"

  "Hell, no."

  "Then what does it matter who I hug?"

  "It's not right. You're supposed to be competing with him."

  "Right then? Really? The contest was long over."

  "The game is always on," he snapped, his voice rising. "How stupid are you?"

  Aaron stepped between me and Dean. "That's enough." His tone, cool and level, had more of an impact than yelling would have. "Kent did a nice thing. We all--" He paused, cleared his throat. "We all should have thanked him. At least MC did."

  "It was nothing," Michael said. "So he lost a few hours. He still kept most of them."

  In the same steady voice, Aaron said, "Spending time with your wife was nothing?"

  Michael flushed.

  "He didn't have to give us anything. And besides, so she hugged him. Big deal. She's hugged me, Ron, Sam... and she hugged Summer too, didn't she? And Liv? And my mom, for that matter." Turning on me, he shook his finger in my face. "You hussy!"

  Greg and Jim laughed, and I did too, at his shocked expression. Dean didn't, of course, and neither did Michael, who hadn't said much since our return to camp, and was again not looking me in the eye.

  "When Kent got too close, she took off. If she'd been after him, she'd have stayed. Right, MC?"

  He turned to me again, and I realized, with a pang deep in my chest, that he was trying to convince himself as much as Dean. Was he actually interested in me? I answered for them both. "Yeah, of course. He's nothing to me but the competition. Besides, I found out Colin needs the money more than ever, so I won't let anything come between us and the million."

  "Glad to hear it," Greg said. "I want my share."

  Jim spoke for the group. "Didn't you say it wasn't worth the effort to split it?"

  "Did I?" His sheepish look said he remembered. "Well, now I think we should."

  "And what changed your mind?" Jim said, but Aaron laughed. "A certain blonde named after a flower, perhaps?"

  Greg took a swing at Aaron, but a playful one. "Hey, my goal was to find a woman. I've achieved that. So bring on the money."

  I laughed with the rest, hiding my shock at how quickly Greg had decided Lily was the one for him. Or had he? He'd said he'd wanted to find 'a' woman, not 'the' woman. Well, more power to him, but I wanted 'the', not 'a', man.

  I watched Aaron making rice and remembered the sweet coziness of his closeness at Kent's camp, but then my mind filled with the way Kent had looked at me after our embrace.

  Had I found 'the man', or 'the men'?

  *****

  At first the rain at bed time was soothing and refreshing, but it quickly picked up and we hurried into the shelter. As the cold downpour pounded the leaves of the roof, leaks sprang into life everywhere and in minutes we were drenched and shivering, our blankets doing nothing to hold out the water.

  When my teeth started chattering, Aaron said, "Come here," and held out his arms to me.

  I hesitated, not knowing how he felt, or how I felt for that matter. But I needed the warmth and wanted the comfort so I pushed myself along until I was in front of him.

  He drew me against his chest and wrapped our
blankets around us, and I relaxed into his embrace.

  Feeling eyes on me, I turned my head and realized Michael was watching, his jealousy obvious. I looked away, wishing he'd smarten up. If the others recognized his expression...

  Aaron said into my ear, "What's Michael's problem?"

  "How much time have you got?" I immediately felt horrible. "Sorry, that was mean."

  "You know what, though, you're right. His wife clearly adores him and he'll be home with her in no time. What's he got to be miserable about?"

  To my surprise, he didn't sound sarcastic like he had when we'd discussed marriage earlier. "Are you serious? You said you'd hate being married. Or even committed."

  "Baby, I can't be a player forever."

  I thought about this. "Sure you can."

  His chuckle was a low rumble. "Really? When I'm fifty? Sixty?"

  "Why not? Gold chains, too much fake tanner, banana hammock bathing suit. Perfect."

  "I don't know what you mean, Madeleine-Cora," he said, in a passable Louisa imitation.

  I giggled. "I nearly died when she said that to Summer."

  "'I don't know, dear, and don't explain it.'" He laughed again. "Nobody makes 'dear' sound like a swear word like my mom."

  We talked on into the night about nothing, barely able to hear each other over the pounding rain, and while I never quite reached comfortable I did at least stop shivering. Aaron stroking my back beneath the blankets reminded me painfully of Kent after my fall, and I hated that. Aaron was being so kind; why couldn't I appreciate it for what it was? Why did everything have to remind me of Kent?

  When the sun finally began to rise, after what seemed like a thousand years, I'd maybe slept a total of an hour and was stiff and sore. And still the rain poured down.

  "It'll stop soon, right?" I looked up at Aaron.

  "I hope so, baby, but no guarantees."

  Greg pulled the blanket off his head. "It stinks like me under there. Gross. What if it doesn't stop?"

  "I'll go moldy," I muttered.

  Aaron smiled at me then said to Greg, "No contest if it keeps up. They won't risk a boat."

  "Of course they will," Michael said. "As long as the contest's safe in the rain."

  "You're crazy. Season six had that three-day rainstorm and they didn't do any contests."

  Three days? I'd be lying on my back on the beach with my mouth open praying to drown.

  "Don't forget the hurricane-force winds that went along with that one. They couldn't send boats because of those, not the rain."

  Aaron had obviously hoped Michael didn't know that part, and Michael took advantage of his success. "Season four, they played through rain at least this bad. The first season they played through hail, and--"

  Jim got to his knees and grabbed them both by the shoulder before Aaron could reply. "Dudes. We don't care. All we want to know is what'll happen this time."

  "I say we'll play," Michael said.

  Aaron shook his head. "We won't."

  "I think we will too," Dean said.

  "What do you know about it?" Greg said.

  "At least as much as you."

  "Hardly."

  Drowning myself was sounding better all the time.

  *****

  When a motor's roar rose above the rain, Michael said, "Hear that?"

  "Won't be for us," Aaron said. "Changing the camera crew."

  Michael's grin faded and he stared out toward the shore as if willing the boat to fetch us.

  "Wish we had some fruit." Dean cast a dirty glance in my direction. "That's all we could have for breakfast without a fire."

  "They're probably eating it right now," Michael said vaguely, eyes on the horizon.

  "We ate most of it yesterday," I said, stung. "And I did ask before I gave it up."

  "You didn't ask me," Dean said.

  "I asked the whole group," I began as the boat drew up to shore and cut its motor, but was interrupted by the production assistant shouting at us. Most of her words were lost in the falling rain, but enough got through to bring back Michael's confidence.

  "Told you, Aaron."

  "Oh, who cares." Aaron held out his hand to me. "Come on, baby."

  "Quit calling her that," Michael said.

  "Why, was it your nickname for her?"

  "No, but I don't like it."

  Aaron raised his eyebrows. "I don't give a rat's ass, that rodent Kent's ass, what you like. I'll do it until she tells me to stop, and so far she hasn't." Turning to me, he added, "Right, baby?"

  "Whatever," I said, not in the mood for their squabbling. All of my clothes were soaked, so there was no point in changing into something I hadn't slept in, and I felt hideous.

  On the boat, Aaron said into my ear, "God, I'm sick of him. He's so full of himself."

  I stared at him.

  "What?"

  "He's full of himself. Michael?"

  "Well, yeah. Why, who'd you think I meant?"

  I shook my head. It wasn't worth the effort.

  Once we disembarked, Michael said, "Some of us didn't think we'd have a contest today," to the woman attaching his microphone.

  "Oh, we always do, if it's safe."

  "Is that right?" He shot Aaron a look. "I thought you would."

  "I thought so, too," Dean said. "Jim, what did you--"

  "I get it, Dean, you know everything. If you copy what someone else says, that is."

  "I didn't have to copy to know that. It makes sense."

  Aaron snorted. "That's rich. Talk about 'sense' from the guy who wouldn't know it if it bit him in the--"

  I lost it. "Shut up, shut up!"

  Miracle of miracles, they did.

  "Aaron, you were wrong. Shut up about it."

  Michael snickered, and I turned on him. "And you were right for once. Shut up about that too. Dean and Greg, quit sniping at each other. I'm so tired of hearing you. Jim, pick a side and stick with it! Honestly, I'd exile you all if I could. And I will, eventually, if you don't shut up and at least pretend you like each other. I can't listen to you any more."

  Their shocked faces angered me further. "What, you don't like it when I tell you what I think? Well, too damn bad. You all love telling me what you think and what I did wrong, so now you have to hear me. Because I'm hungry and tired and cold and so sick of you all I could barf!"

  The camera man's walkie-talkie crackled to life in the stunned silence that followed. "Princess's Court ready, I take it?" Even through the static, I could tell the speaker was struggling to hold back laughter. How loud had I been? Who'd heard me?

  We entered the clearing, and I realized everyone had. Kent's exes, looking as bedraggled as I felt, burst into applause, and Kayla shouted, "You tell 'em, Princess!"

  Waves of embarrassment swamped me. I couldn't look at Kent. He was either shocked at my outburst or laughing, and I didn't want to see either reaction. Why had I snapped like that?

  Peter, fighting to keep his face serious, said, "I take it you didn't have a great night?"

  I shook my head, and was about to answer when I heard Dean mutter something I didn't quite catch. I did catch Aaron's name in it, though.

  "What did you say?" I turned to face him.

  "Nothing. You wanted me to shut up, remember?"

  "If you came up with it all by yourself," Aaron said, "of course we want to hear it."

  They stared at each other, locking eyes like two rams locking horns, and I threw up my hands. "And they're at it again. Fine, I don't care."

  "I said, Princess, you spent the night snuggling with Aaron. Sounds like hell to me but you seemed happy. All that giggling and whispering, plus whatever went on under that blanket."

  My cheeks hurt with the force of my blush. I looked at my feet, but Jody's sarcastic "isn't that funny, Kent and Summer did the same thing" made me snap my head up and stare at Kent. He stared back, his face turning red too. The thought of them together filled me with jealousy that I thought, for a split second, I saw reflected in K
ent's eyes. If I did, it was gone in an instant.

  Peter said, "Any comment, Royals?", and we turned as one to face him.

  "At least someone was man enough to step up and keep her warm," Kent said, snapping a salute at Aaron. I couldn't have seen jealousy in his eyes; he obviously didn't mind me being in Aaron's arms overnight.

  "Princess?"

  "Ditto." I imitated Kent's salute, feeling tears burning behind my eyes for no reason.

  "Any time, baby," he said, emphasizing the nickname. "And I do mean any time."

  Michael bristled, and annoyance shoved away my tears. Why did Aaron always have to go that extra mile in bothering people?

  Peter cleared his throat. "Let's hope the rain stops and it's not necessary. Now, today's elimination contest will use what the Court members said about their Royals on your first night."

  Oh, fabulous. All day long I listened to what they had to say about me, and now it was a contest? Filled with a sudden fury, I took the clipboard and pencil Peter handed me without a word and stomped to the rock he'd designated as my chair.

  The first question was, "Which of your Courtiers did not want to date you again?"

  I wrote, "All of them." Not likely to be true, but I couldn't bear to go through the guys and try to guess who did and didn't want me. Even the thought made me angrier.

  "Out of this list of ten words, circle the three your Court used in describing you."

  I circled 'inhibited', 'cold', and 'unfriendly', leaving such gems as 'reserved', 'polite', and 'dignified' to their own devices.

  "How well on average did your Courtiers say they knew you?"

  A circle around 'zero to twenty percent', drawn so hard I tore the paper.

  "Did your Courtiers say you're likely to hold a grudge for no good reason?"

  Of course they did. Why the hell wouldn't they, the jerks?

  I plowed through the questions, picking up speed as I went, giving the most negative answers I could think of for each one and unable to stop myself as each answer fueled the next. Peter blinked when I handed him back the clipboard. "You're done quickly."

  I gave him a smile that made him recoil. "I know what my exes think of me."

  "Good enough," he said, stepping back.

  I sat on my rock and glowered, first at every last example of the male gender, then at myself. I'd let my bad mood ruin our chances of winning the contest. And an exile contest, no less. I was ridiculous when I was hungry and tired. They'd all think I'd thrown the contest, and I'd never do that. No matter how much I wanted Dean or Michael gone.