He grinned, but I couldn't return it. "Well, I guess they forgot to put that in my instruction manual. And I didn't make out with him." Didn't I?
"So just a peck?" Jim said, his tone ridiculously hearty. I turned to him and realized he was trying to defuse me. Which re-fused me.
"Why should I tell you? I can kiss whoever--" I snapped my lips shut against the words.
"Whoever you want," Greg finished for me. "But didn't you say you don't want Kent?"
"Of course I don't. I dumped him, remember?"
"No, because you never told us that," Aaron said. "Didn't tell us anything about you two."
"Let's keep it that way. He's a jerk. A weak spineless jerk."
Aaron laid a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Nobody's saying he's not, baby."
His tone, as if trying to talk down a crazed kidnapper, flooded me with renewed rage and made me pull away and snap, "The last thing I need is another guy slobbering all over me."
Turning my back on his hurt face, and the stunned other guys, I stalked back to the beach. Once I was out of sight, I broke into a run, and kept running until I was panting. It didn't do enough to ease my pain and fury and self-hatred, though, so I began kicking and punching the air.
I was soon gasping for breath but I couldn't stop. All the embarrassing and horrifying moments of the hellish show... I lashed out at each and every thing I could remember until it was beaten into submission and I could go on to the next.
Until I reached kissing Kent. I couldn't get past that. I'd literally put my body in his hands, and opened my heart to him, and he'd responded by kissing Summer.
I pictured her happy face and flailed away at it. Would they all still want her if I made her hideous? Probably. But it wasn't her fault anyhow.
No, it was mine, for being so cold and distant and all those other things the guys had said about me. My body burned and sweat poured down my face, but I kept fighting against everything in my head and heart, against everything I was and didn't want to be any more, for as long as I could. When I couldn't throw another punch I slumped down into the shallow water, feeling its coolness soothing my skin but not my soul.
Someone cleared his throat, and I snapped my head up to see Michael, eyes wide. "We made rice," he said.
"Not hungry."
And I wasn't. I felt drained and shaky, but no hunger.
He took a step closer. "You need to eat."
I shrugged.
"MC, you didn't do anything wrong. You're right, you can kiss-- anyone you want."
The catch in his voice told me the thought of my kissing Kent still hurt him, like how Kent kissing Summer hurt me. So much pain everywhere. "Well, I don't want." I pushed myself to my feet, glaring at him. "No more. No more men, no more dating. It all hurts too much. I'll never fall in love again because it ends up crushing you and I can't stand it any more!"
My voice rose to a shriek, and my last words echoed over the water as Michael and I stared at each other.
Then I burst into tears.
He hurried forward and put his arms around me. I struggled to escape, to run away and hide, but he wouldn't let go. The sobs shook me, tearing from my throat, and I gave up the fight and buried my head in his shoulder. His arms tightened around me and I clung to him, crying so hard I couldn't catch my breath.
"Baby." Aaron had come up behind us, and the tenderness and sympathy in that one word ripped at my heart. Michael tried to hand me over to him, but I held on and refused to go. Aaron wanted Summer, not me, just like Kent did.
And Michael wanted Paige.
Nobody wanted me.
I pushed myself off Michael and stood alone, scrubbing the tears from my face. "I'm fine."
"You're not," Aaron said flatly. "Come eat, then take a nap. You'll feel better."
Aaron and Michael led me back to camp, but I couldn't eat. The guys tried to feed me fruit but it was either unripe or mushy and I couldn't bear it. Michael's offer of fish made me gag.
"I just want to sleep," I kept saying, and they finally gave in.
Aaron walked me to the shelter. "You'll eat when you wake up. Promise?"
"No," I said, closing my eyes.
"Baby, come on."
I kept my eyes closed and didn't respond, and after smoothing my hair back he left. Of course, then I longed for him to hold me while I fell asleep.
Why did I never get it right?
Chapter Twenty-Four
"Today's knowledge contest focuses on what you've learned about your own Court."
Another pointless contest. Rage filled me, then fizzled leaving only sick tiredness. I'd eaten nothing after my nap the day before, and nothing since. The guys cajoled and encouraged and eventually yelled at me, but I couldn't force anything down.
As always, I was facing Kent, and I didn't want to be. I didn't look at him. What was the point? Two more times seeing him after this, and then back to my Kent-less existence. It hadn't seemed so empty before.
Aaron put his hand on my shoulder. "What's wrong, baby?"
I pulled away and said, "You're not annoying me enough," without looking at him. He chuckled, and Summer, of course standing beside Kent, giggled. I was sick of her too.
The production team handed out chalkboards and Peter said, "Prince, let's start with your Court. One of the Ladies has six tattoos. Is it Summer, Ashley, Tara, or Lily?"
Two votes for Tara and three for Lily. Since Lily voted for herself...
"The correct answer is Lily," Peter said. "That's three points for the Prince. Lily, where and what are these tattoos?"
While I wasn't much for body art, I did like the word 'live' in ornate script on her wrist. "It's to remind me to go after each day," she said.
"You should have 'love' on your other arm." Greg's voice sounded like he was trying to sound casual.
"I've thought about it. Maybe some day."
"I hope so." Greg reddened as we turned to him. "What? It'd make a nice set, that's all."
Lily stared at him. "Yeah, it would."
As we went on, it became clear that my guys had been paying attention to each other, and they'd even noticed some of what I'd been thinking and feeling.
It enraged me.
When they got one right, it emphasized how Kent hadn't been able to answer even the simplest questions about me. When they got one wrong, I was mad about that too.
To make it worse, Kent knew everything about his bloody exes. So why couldn't he remember anything about me?
My guys and I fell behind by one point. Then two. Then we lost by three.
Aaron slung his arm over my shoulders. "No worries, baby. These don't count anyhow."
I shrugged him off me. "Of course they do. Everything counts for something." I turned to Peter. "Why the hell won't you tell us what they mean?"
Everyone looked at me, surprised, and their reactions frustrated me even more. "It matters," I said, becoming lightheaded as my anger grew. "I know it does, and it's so stupid, I don't understand it, I--"
My voice seemed to fade away and my fingers began to tingle. Darkness swept in from all sides with increasing speed, and I had just enough time to say, "Help," before I fainted.
*****
"She doesn't like fish." Aaron sounded worried. "Our fruit's bad and she's sick of rice."
A woman's voice I didn't recognize said, "You should have made her eat."
Her blame annoyed me, and I shifted as if waking up then opened my eyes.
"Hey, baby." Aaron's smile didn't quite come off. "Decided to come back to us?"
"I never decided to leave in the first place," I said, my voice wobblier than I'd expected.
I tried to sit up, but he caught my shoulder with the hand not holding mine and gently pulled me back down so my head was again on his thigh. "Not yet," he said. "Rest."
The woman said, "I hear you're not eating."
My rage flared again. "Rice and fish for weeks. You try it."
Ignoring this, she said, "Give me your hand."
I raised the one Aaron wasn't holding, and she pinched my skin then released it. "Dehydrated as well." She clearly didn't care. "Drink this."
Aaron sat me up and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, and the woman handed him a bottle of neon orange liquid. Being upright again brought the lightheadedness back, and I leaned into Aaron until it cleared.
He passed me the bottle and I took a tentative sip. It tasted as bright orange as it looked, and I felt energy surge through me.
"Gatorade?" Aaron said.
The woman nodded, and he said to me, "I use it for my long training runs."
"Keep your problems to yourself."
"You're getting bitchy again, you must be feeling better."
I knew he was joking, but my eyes filled with tears. "I don't want to be a bitch."
He hugged me. "You're not even close, baby," he whispered into my ear. "I was just letting off steam. God, you scared me when you collapsed." He tightened his hold on me and I snuggled into him, letting myself relax for the first time in days. After a few seconds, I straightened up, then took another sip and looked around.
Again with everyone watching me get treated. My guys stood together, Kent's women were next to them, and Greg and Lily held hands across the space between the groups.
Kent stood on his own with his arms folded. When I looked up at him, he raised one hand in a 'drink up' motion, without a smile or any reaction at all. I pulled a huge swallow from the bottle, and he nodded and gave me two blinks.
"All right," Peter said, and I tore my eyes from Kent. "Excitement's over. Time to go."
I started to get up, but he said, "Not you, Princess. You're staying here until that bottle's empty and the medic says you can go."
The medic's expression said she'd be happy to see me leave immediately, but she nodded. I looked back at Kent, who gave me a small smile and turned away. I longed to beg him to stay, to comfort me like he had after my fall, but I couldn't find the words, and then he was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I'd hoped the dawn of our last day on the island would improve Aaron's disposition, but he was still as sullen as he'd been since we'd lost the previous day's prize contest.
Since he'd lost it.
One member of each court had competed to win a feast, and Aaron had insisted it be him. Unfortunately, Ashley's spear fishing was so good she might even have beaten Michael, and she'd slaughtered Aaron in short order.
Kent had immediately asked if he could share with us, and had held eye contact with Peter, ignoring his exes' horror, until Peter said, "No, the prize is yours."
Before Kent could respond, Aaron snapped, "We don't need your charity. You keep it."
"That's what he's going to do, Aaron. Princess, are you feeling any better?"
I'd drunk so much Gatorade I was probably turning orange, but it was helping. The guys had been offering me food about every ten seconds and I was eating more each time. My strength was returning and I felt happier. "Much better, thanks."
"Good," Peter said. "Because I have nothing for you. Back to camp."
And Aaron had been silent and furious ever since. I didn't know if his loss or Kent's offer upset him more.
"Prince, Princess, you are tied, each with four remaining Court members. I'm sure you know how important this final elimination contest is."
I could think of a million reasons why it mattered.
He gestured toward a circle of small wooden posts a foot tall, each with a knotted rope hanging above it from a frame. The whole contraption looked vaguely gallows-like, and I wrapped my arms around myself for comfort. My guys looked as scared as I felt, which didn't exactly help. Sunset over a lake. I tried, but all I could see was the sunset I'd shared with Kent.
"You will stand on a post, holding the rope with both hands. The rope isn't fastened securely enough to support your weight. If you release your rope, pull it down, or leave the post, you are out."
He paused as if waiting for questions, but it seemed pretty simple. Take a position and refuse to move.
We climbed onto the posts, the wood warmed by the fierce sun, and I shifted my feet to get as comfortable as I could. The post wasn't wide enough, so I settled my arches on it and let my toes and heels spill over. We took firm hold of the knots and Peter gave his countdown.
I held my rope's knot, pressing it against my chest to make sure I wouldn't pull it, and stared down at the sand. My pressed-together inner thighs started to sweat almost immediately then turned itchy. I took slow deep breaths, trying not to let the itchiness disturb me. I could do this. My twenty-first time in this clearing. One more obstacle to overcome.
About ten minutes in, I heard someone fall.
"Damn it!" Aaron's voice was full of rage and pain.
"Are you okay?" I turned, too fast in my worry, in his direction. The movement made me wobble, and I fought hard before regaining my balance.
"Aaron's the first out," Peter said.
"You think?" Aaron said from behind me. From the sound, he was kicking the dirt.
"You're welcome to sit under the tent." It filled the circle's middle, low enough not to block our view of each other but clearly positioned so we could see, and yearn for, shade.
Aaron didn't respond, unless muttering and continuing to kick counted.
By the time Peter said, "It's now been fifteen minutes," I was fed up.
"Aaron, sit down."
"No."
"Then go bitch and moan somewhere else. You're making me crazy."
A few scattered giggles, and Aaron appeared. So quietly I could barely hear him, he said, "I screwed up. Let you down. Again."
I looked into his eyes. "I'm only still in the game because of you. Think of everything you've done for me."
"But I didn't get you food yesterday, and now this."
"Look, when we do my marathon training, will you let me gripe if I screw up?"
"No. But I wanted to be there for you."
"You are. Go be under the tent for me, okay?"
He hesitated. "I'm sorry."
Tears prickled behind my eyes but I forced them back. Hard to balance when you're crying. "No reason to apologize. Now get under that tent before I get down and make you."
"Don't even think about it."
"Don't make me, then. Get in there and send us some nice strong balanced vibes."
He gave me a nearly Aaron-like grin and a wink. "Got it, baby. Will do."
He must have, because the rest of my team was still standing when Peter announced we'd been there an hour. Unfortunately, his vibes weren't precisely targeted, because Kent and his exes were still standing too.
Peter's eyes rested on me for a moment, then he said, "A lot of stubborn people here. Don't forget, only one Court member needs to be standing at the end. I'm sure your feet are agony, it's nearly one hundred and ten degrees, and you're all looking burnt."
His words had what I assumed was the desired effect: the crowd of post dwellers thinned considerably in the space of a few minutes.
"Here's where we stand," Peter said as Lily made her way to the shade and dropped down beside Greg. "The Prince and Princess are still in the game. The Princess has one Courtier still standing, and the Prince has two Ladies. Does anyone want to step down?"
Michael said, "No way, Peter," and I added, "Not a chance."
Summer and Faith insisted they'd stay in too, but I barely heard them. I'd looked across at Kent, and the calm determination on his sun-reddened face made my heart skip a beat. Could I beat a guy who walked on girders for a living?
Time passed strangely. In seconds, we'd been there for ninety minutes, but it took decades before Peter said, "One and three quarter hours." The sun was painfully bright, but I knew I'd fall if I closed my eyes. I heard a thud, and Peter said, "Faith is now out of the game."
Faith promptly burst into tears, and Peter said, "How're we doing, folks? Princess?"
"A little bored, but otherwise okay." A little bored?
"Michael?"
"Fine."
"Prince?"
Kent sighed. "About as well as could be expected, I guess." I looked across at him, and we exchanged a little smile at the ridiculousness of the situation.
"Summer?"
After his third time saying her name, she said, "Peter, what? I was casting a police show in my head."
"You were... pardon?"
"Imagining different actors and figuring out who'd be a good cop in the TV show I'm making up. I need a tall dark sexy one, a rebel, someone cute but non-threatening, and a silver fox for the captain. It's a good distraction. At least," she finished, sounding annoyed, "it was."
I giggled, and so did several of the departed exes. "I’m sorry," Peter said, sounding sincere. "Go back to it."
"Now I remember I'm here and my feet are killing me, and I can't go back."
Apparently not: she fell with a faint squeak barely a minute later. Aaron was there at once, and she looked up, surprised, then put her hand in his. I watched, clutching my rope closer to my heart, as he drew her to her feet and they walked hand-in-hand to the tent. He got her settled, then turned to me and made an exploding gesture with both hands.
Two fires. We grinned at each other. The world might not survive the union of Aaron and Summer, but I was still glad he was happy.
I glanced at Kent, wondering how he felt, but he was staring at his hands.
"The Prince stands alone."
For the first time in the contest, I had the lead. Joy flashed through me.
Michael leaned forward and rounded his back, groaning at the tension. Another stretch, a little further this time, and I gasped in horror as his rope tumbled to the ground. He stayed put as if not understanding what had happened, and then Jim helped him down.
"Only the Prince and Princess now," Peter said unnecessarily. "True battle for the million."
"Baby, it's all mental now. The pain won't get any worse."
"You're all mental. Is this from your vast pole-standing experience?"
"No, from running. Remember, it won't get worse."
"Won't get better either," I muttered, but somehow it helped. My legs were on fire, but it wouldn't get worse.
Seven Exes Are Eight Too Many Page 22
