“Scott—” She loses her grip. That harness jerks tight against the rope as she slips sideways. Her body swings over open space. The top catches her mid-drop. The sound of it snapping taut echoes against the small cliff.
She screams.
My heart stops.
She dangles for a split second above the open water, lavender hair whipping in the wind, breath punched from her lungs.
“Pull her!” a producer shouts.
I’m already moving.
They lower her fast as she hits the water, the ripples consuming her whole.
I don’t think. I dive. Cold water slams into my chest. Salt burns my eyes.
I’m quick to surface with my arm around her waist while I swim us to safety. Her body is pressed up against mine as she rips the blindfold off.
Her eyes are wide as she coughs. She shakes as I hold her close against my chest. Her chest heaves rapidly against my chest. A stunned, almost blank stare forms on her face as though processing what just happened.
“I got you. I got you,” I softly assure repeatedly as the crew guides me to a dock. Cameras hover.
For a moment, her gaze locks onto my face. The tightness in her brows softens as she looks at me with something like disbelief. As though she is searching for answers. Then she breaks the spell, pushing herself out of my arms.
“Let go of me,” she demands, her chin lifted slightly. “I can swim on my own just fine.”
“Good for you, but I’m not letting go. You might have hurt yourself.”
When we reach the dock, I guide her to the connecting metal ladder. After climbing up, she quickly takes a few steps away from me, adjusting her soaked hair that clings to her neck. As though pretending nothing happened.
We make it back to the beginning of the course when Miranda yells, “Time! Jessa and Nick are the winners!”
Cheers erupt.
Lyla doesn’t react. Instead, she looks at me with fury blazing in her eyes.
Why is she mad at me? She wanted this to happen. Then again, what if that’s not the reason? Could she be mad because I saved her? Yet that doesn’t make any sense either. Could she be mad…at herself?
“The rest of the day is yours, contestants, to relax and mingle. Head back to the villa,” Miranda instructs.
Before I have a chance to think further, is the first to start the trek back to the villa without another word. An angry scowl forms on her face.
As I follow closely behind, a thought comes to mind. No matter what I do, no matter how many challenges there are where I can try to prove she can rely on me, Lyla doesn’t trust me.
Not even close.
Chapter Five
Scott
* * *
I can smell Lyla’s scent in the air as she walks past me and to the bar. Vanilla and jasmine fill my nostrils—the same scent that once clung to my clothes after she’d spent the night with me in my truck, under the stars. Despite the time away, the need to have her is still instant and demanding.
Watching Lyla from a distance the past twelve hours has become a given. She’s not the only reason I’m here. But she’s also the most, and only, tempting thing for me here.
But despite this, the pool deck is a battlefield disguised as relaxation.
Sunlight ricochets off the water hard enough to make my eyes narrow. Chlorine hangs sharp in the air, mixing with sunscreen and the salt carried up from the ocean below. Bodies are everywhere—loungers packed tight, bare skin gleaming with baby oil.
