Valerie watches intently. “He’s not wrong, you know.”
“Wrong about what?”
“You do seem distracted today.”
Lyla hesitates. “Distracted is the wrong word. I guess you could say I’m... processing.”
“I get you. That challenge was awful.”
Lyla shakes her head. “It’s more than that.”
Valerie smirks. “So that’s a no on Sean?”
“He has his…qualities, but I’m not interested,” Lyla replies.
“Who is catching your eye then?”
Ain’t that a great question?
Valerie seems to watch whatever expression is on Lyla’s face with as much curiosity as I feel.
Across the deck, I notice one of the producers subtly adjust their position. Cameras angle in the women’s and my direction. I realize I’ve put myself in a precarious position. Do they think I’m some brute, waiting for the opportune moment to intervene? Waiting to stake my claim?
They’d probably be right, but that’s beside the point.
As much as I want to sweep her off her feet, I can’t make Lyla feel something she doesn’t. Not when I have my past stacked against me. But so far this information is helpful. She’s confused, processing. Which means she’s thinking. There could be a chance she hasn’t completely shut me down, shut out the possibility of us down.
Before Lyla can answer Valerie’s question, Miranda’s voice cuts across the space, amplified and bright.
“Contestants! I hope everyone’s enjoying the sunshine.”
Groans ripple through the group.
“Because tomorrow,” she continues, smiling like a cat, “we’ll be testing something far more interesting than trust.”
The words hang in the humid air.
Lyla’s expression doesn’t change, though her pulse jumps in her throat.
Miranda beams. “Be ready. It’s going to be...intimate.”
When Miranda makes her exit, murmurs spread. Speculation, excitement, and anxiety rolled into one.
What could be “far more interesting than trust”?
When I look back in Lyla’s direction, her shoulders have dropped a fraction, and she inhales before sliding into the pool completely. Water consumes her body whole. And when she resurfaces, her hair is slicked back, droplets clinging to her lashes. She looks...relieved.
For half a second, her eyes find me.
But there’s no smile behind this stare. Just that same charge that crackled between us on the obstacle course. Heat, burning need, and awareness of both.
Her gaze is fixed solely on my face before her chest rises in an inhale and she dives under again. The surface of the pool closes over her, rippling, distorting her shape.
I don’t know if she’s looking to escape, avoid me, preparing for what’s to come, or all the above. But when she disappears beneath the water, the pressure in my chest doesn’t ease. It builds.
Whatever enigma of a challenge is waiting for us tomorrow, something tells me it will only further complicate things.
Day Three
