Be brave. Don’t forget to smile and for the love of fucking God… don’t fall on your ass. I think these things are recorded.
I climb the stairs as the crowd cheers, hollering wolf whistles that make my cheeks heat with embarrassment, and somehow, that’s not even the worst part. No, the worst part is that the universe wasn’t finished with me. Not even close. Because standing right in front of me, so close that I can smell his cologne and undeniablemanness,is my ex’s dad.
West Carrington.
A very long way from home.
Our eyes meet the moment I stand in the spot marked with an ‘x,’ and I swear my stomach lurches. The same expression he wore the night I ran out of his bedroom, the expression I didn’t allow myself to analyze until now, hardens across hisface. A dangerous heat rolls off him, inescapable, magnetic, drawing parts of me I didn't know existed closer to him in ways I shouldn’t allow, ways I know I shouldn’t want. I force my attention to the host as he explains the rules of a salacious game I'd rather die than play, then turn to face the crowd. Meanwhile, every fiber of my being is aware of the hurricane raging beside me. I am painfully attuned to the energy crackling between West and me. Desire. Self-restraint. An array of mixed emotions whirling together in a frantic storm that sends shivers down my spine, and a flame ignites my core.
Am I imagining this?
Maybe he’s just as shocked to see me as I am to see him? Is that what this is? This feeling.
As terrifying as it is, I realize that somewhere deep down, I don't want this to be all in my imagination. And that unexpected truth both unsettles me and excites me all at the same time.
The audience breaks out in laughter, snapping me out of my head and back to reality, freeing me from whatever hold West’s proximity has on me. I blink, forcing myself to smile. There’s easily a hundred or more people with their eyes on me right now, and even though I know I've got to get my shit together, the rows and rows of faces stretching out before me make it rather difficult. They're a little hard to see with a spotlight in my face, but I can tell that some of them are grinning from ear to ear. I can hear their whispers and it's obvious that some of them are recording on their phones, which is just fucking great.
I'm going to end up on the clock app.
Shiloh is going to lose her fucking mind over this, even more so if she finds out online before I get the chance to tell her that this wasn't something I planned.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” the host, Daniel, calls in that whiny host voice he has, practically vibrating with excitement, pacing the stage to the left of where the other contestants, orvolunteers, and I are standing. “Welcome toWheel You Regret This!” Applause erupts through the theatre, making my ears ring, but I square my shoulders and pretend like I'm not utterly humiliated.
Daniel gestures toward a towering, vertical contraption that almost looks like a ruler I somehow hadn't noticed until now. The column-like thing is fitted with light bulbs on either side, stacked on top of each other and glowing with each sound the audience makes. At the very top sits a polished, silver Cupid, catching the stage lights. It looks exactly like one of those strength tester things you see at carnivals, and I'm guessing that Cupid is supposed to be a bell or something.
“Right here,” Daniel says, tapping the edge of the object, “is an applause meter, and that's how we will know whether or not you’re enjoying the game.” I chance a glance at West, and he looks like he’d rather be anywhere else than on stage with me. I inwardly wince. Maybe I read him wrong earlier. I’m his son’s ex-girlfriend. Talk about awkward.
“Lovers, this game is unlike anything we’ve ever done before,” Daniel exclaims. He spins on his heels and points at us. “Gentlemen, the lady standing to your left is who you’ll be paired with.” My breathing stutters. I turn back to look at West, already looking at me. His jaw tightens, one hand lifting to rub the back of his neck, then he looks toward the crowd. He’s probably searching for an escape route. Honestly, that might be the only sensible option here. The host interacts with the audience, hyping them up for what I’m sure will be humiliating, then walks over to the wheel on the opposite side of the stage.
“For fifty thousand dollars?—”
I’m sorry. Did I just hear him correctly?
The crowd gasps as Daniel’s voice blurs into background noise as he explains the terms and conditions of the game. I feellike the floor might give way because what do you mean, fifty thousand dollars?
“You will be put to the test. Your limits will be pushed and twisted. Your comfort zones will be tormented in ways you never saw coming. The last couple standing will walk away with fifty-thousand dollars, and hopefully, not an impending divorce.” Laughter fills the theatre, some nervous, others genuinely entertained as I try to process a coherent thought. That’s a lot of fucking money. Money that could set both me and Perfect Match Design up for who knows how long!I’d finally be able to afford a part-time assistant, someone I could trust to handle the smaller tasks while I focus on other aspects of my business that I just haven’t had the bandwidth to do yet with everything else calling my name. I assume we’d have to split it, but twenty-five thousand dollars is still a lot of money. Money I need. Especially after this fucking cruise.
I flick my gaze to West. He still looks like he wants to vanish into thin air, which is totally fine and everything, but I need to win. I force as much pity into my expression as possible. My lips start to tremble and I feel like I could burst into tears at any moment. I hope he sees it. Ineedhim to see it. I am going all in at this point, but I need him to know just how desperate I am. This win… it will change my life.
“You are under no obligation to play and if at any time you wish to forfeit, we’ll understand,” Daniel calls out, his voice bouncing off the walls and vibrating the stage. Then his grin turns borderline wicked. “But, ladies and gentlemen… how far would you be willing to go for fifty-thousand dollars? Let’s find out, shall we?”
That’s a good question.
I mean, as far as ice breakers go, West and I have already ticked a few boxes in the embarrassment department. So unlessthis game requires something to that effect, I think I can survive it. Question is, could West?
My pulse starts pounding in my ears as Daniel strides toward the wheel. For the first time, I read each category plastered across the colorful wedges, spinning slowly beneath the lights. Each category is labeled with something more daring than the last, all of them hinting at confessions, closeness… I see what he means by an impending divorce.
I can’t say any of this would appeal to an actual couple. Sitting in the crowd while your significant other completes questionable tasks for money, all on what’s supposed to be a romantic vacation? Brutal. Being single suddenly feels like an advantage. I might have a chance at winning after all.
Wait.If West is single, why is he on a couples cruise? Is he single? Is this about to blow up in our faces and force me to kiss my half of the winnings goodbye? Or did he book the wrong trip like I did?Ugh.Whoever invented this game deserves a fucking raise because we haven’t even started playing yet, and I’m already having heart palpitations.
The first two contestants are called over to the wheel, chuckling nervously as they interact with the host and introduce themselves to the crowd. They exchange a few whispered words and decide amongst themselves who will spin first. The audience eats it up, laughing and cheering them on as the guy raises a hand and spins the wheel with a showy gesture. Okay, so I’m five foot one. There is no way I can reach the handle on that thing without looking like a complete idiot in this dress. Doing a half-assed spin and failing in front of all these people is not an option, so I’m going to have to get creative.
I am a Stone, which basically means I am naturally competitive. I grew up in a house with two older brothers and only one, teeny tiny bathroom, so I know how to fight, and I always play to win.
I can feel West’s gaze on me everywhere, but I don’t allow myself to look back. I don’t want to read what he might be thinking. If he’s disgusted that we’ve been paired together out of everyone else here, or if, against all odds, he actually does find me attractive because both of those things will not help me in this moment. I need to focus.
We all watch as the wheel spins, the arrow clacking against each wedge, before it finally slows and eventually settles on a yellow slice with the words “Pleasure and Punishment” written in bold, glittery letters. Daniel leans forward, eyes twinkling with mischief, as if he doesn’t expect that any of us would be willing to go through with whatever task is written on the cards in his hand.
