Page 31 of Down and Dirty Celebrity Edition

“Where are you going?” Savannah called after her.

But Amy didn’t say a word. She just kept walking.

“You should probably go after her,” Kate said, heaving herself up from the sand as if she’d aged twenty years.

There was a loud crack that could either have been a twig in the sand or one of her knees. Savannah didn’t ask. Surely a world-famous actress didn’t have crackly knees.

“I don’t think she wants me to,” Savannah muttered, staring longingly after Amy.

Kate dusted sand off the back of her shorts. “She’s upset about Wyn. We all are.” She glanced at Luna, who licked grease off her index finger with a loud, contented pop. There wasn’t a single ounce of grief on her face. In fact, she looked about as devastated as someone who had won first-class flights to Hawaii. Luna met Kate’s gaze, blinked once, and shrugged one shoulder. “We’re all upset,” she murmured, reaching for another slice. Once she’d ripped off a bite and swallowed, she added, “I think Claire and I might have to stay in New York for a bit after this. You know Wyn’s going to milk this injury for all it’s worth. She’ll have us fetching iced coffees and driving all the way to Manorwood for those tiny scones she likes.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “You know you can show a bit more empathy for one of your best friends. She tore all her ankle ligaments and has to have surgery.”

“I know,” Luna puffed out. “And I am empathetic, but I didn’t tell her to go charging after Amy. She needs to learn not to act out of anger.”

“Anger?” Kate frowned. “You’re one to talk about anger. I literally watched you take a bat to your laptop after that Ellen Kirby review.”

“She called me a smut peddler and said I had the emotional range of a Hallmark movie.”

“Well, it seems your emotional range extends to a teaspoon,” Kate gritted out.

Savannah had better things to do than join another argument between Luna and Kate. Amy was trudging along the beach with her arms folded against her chest and her head down like the world was resting on her neck. Every part of Savannah split open at the sight of her. She leaped to her feet and jogged through the sand to catch up.

“Amy,” Savannah said when she was less than an arm’s length away. “Can you just wait for a second?”

Amy made a noncommittal sound that Savannah took as permission to stay. She stepped in beside her and fought the urge to slide an arm around Amy’s waist and pull her tight against her side. The urge was so overwhelming that she had to slip her hands into her back pockets. “It’s not your fault.”

“Of course it’s my fault,” Amy snapped. Her cheeks were red, her eyes watery, and that bottom lip... Savannah hadn’t seen a cuter trembling lip in her life. “I threw mud in her face. I pissed her off and made her run after me. And now she’s gone home without even using her advant—” Amy cut herself off mid-word. The anger evaporated into a blank stare, and Savannah knew why. That very same light bulb that had gone off in Amy’s head was currently flashing blindingly bright in her own.

“Where is the advantage?” Savannah whispered. Not that she had to; they were almost at the other end of the beach. The only person close enough was a cameraman wearing a washed-out pink BEER IS LIFE cap trailing behind them.

Amy stopped walking. She whipped her head toward the lean-to where everyone’s bags were lined up along the side. Since the challenge had been a reward challenge with no chance of being sent home, nobody had packed up their belongings or hauled them along.

“In Wyn’s bag,” Amy said, nodding. The trembly lip from before had completely vanished and was instead replaced by a slow, wicked grin. Savannah had never been more desperate to kiss her. “Which means...”

“If Wyn’s bag is still there, then surely the advantage is too,” Savannah said giddily. She felt like leaping into the air and kicking her heels together like Gene Kelly in Singin’ in the Rain. But that feeling melted away quickly under the hot sun. “Unless she gave it to Kate or Luna?”

“No,” Amy said, shaking her head. “I got the impression Wyn wanted to keep the advantage for herself. I don’t think either Luna or Kate knows.”

“Well, then we have to get it,” Savannah said, already veering away from the shore toward the lean-to. This was exactly the move that could get them to the very end. Then, as if lightning struck the very top of her head, she saw the confetti rain at the final Sending. She saw Amy at the gate, waiting for her connecting flight back to Broken Arrow while Savannah boarded her own flight back to JFK. She saw the flood of enthusiastic texts: I miss you so much; I can’t wait to see you; why doesn’t teleportation exist? She saw the long weekend plans to rent an Airbnb in the Catskills that never materialized because Amy got hopelessly swallowed up in edits for her new book, and the canceled flight to Tulsa International Airport because Savannah got sucked right back into her chaotic life. She saw them six months later managing three days together in the city, eating cold bagels on the High Line, walking through Washington Square Park while they caught up on life until there was nothing more to catch up on before finally curling under Savannah’s Egyptian cotton sheets, desperately trying to relearn each other’s touch. Then, at the end of the three days, Amy would head back home and leave them right where they started. Just two people who used to eat beans and rice on a beach together.

What did the end of this game even mean for the two of them?

Amy’s hand on her arm brought her back. It was warm and grounding. They could figure out the future when the time came. “It’s too obvious,” Amy said. “If anyone sees both of us run toward the bags, they’ll know something is going on.”

“We can’t just leave it,” Savannah said. “As soon as Luna or Kate gets back to the shelter, they’ll find Wyn’s bag and the advantage, and we’ll lose our shot.”

Amy nodded slowly, gravely.

Savannah bit so hard at her bottom lip she tasted iron. They needed a plan. But what plan and why had Savannah’s mind suddenly gone blank? Or, more accurately, why could Savannah think about nothing other than Amy’s fingers on her skin?

“Well then, we’ll need a distraction,” Amy said. “You get Wyn’s bag. Take it out to Moon Pit. There’s a tree with this huge dark moon crescent scar to the left. Hide the bag behind it. We’ll go get it tonight when everyone’s gone to bed.”

That all sounded reasonably easy... except she had no idea how she would distract everyone. “What kind of distraction?” Savannah asked.

But Amy didn’t bother with an explanation. She’d already spun around, and before Savannah could ask her where she was going, she was sprinting toward the rest of the contestants who were slowly making their way along the beach. When she reached them, she doubled over and muttered something unintelligible. What on earth could she be saying? But there was no chance to decipher because Amy was suddenly pointing toward the ocean. Everyone looked in that direction. Savannah had a job to do. Without wasting any more time, she hunched over like a thief in the night and started toward the lean-to.

“Grab the bag,” she muttered under her breath as she kicked up sand behind her. “And hide it behind the tree with a moon scar. Easy peasy.”