Isla grinned. Then she scooted closer to Adrienne as if she were going to let her in on a secret. Not that any of this was a secret. Apparently, Isla and Tamsyn had discussed their steamyOutlast Herromance at length on the podcast,Outlast Her Unpacked. Adrienne had yet to listen to it.
“I knew I was in love with Tamsyn the moment she walked into the hospital room after I broke my ankle during thatobstacle challenge,” Isla said. “She gave up her spot in the game for me. She didn’t have to. But she did.”
Would Valerie do that for Adrienne? Would Adrienne do that for Valerie?
How could one answer a question like that if one weren’t in that position? It was like asking someone to cut their arm off if they didn’t have a boulder pinning them to a canyon wall. Adrienne had watched127 Hourswhile on a plane to Zurich last year and had to request cold towels to ease the puffiness around her crying eyes.
Adrienne glanced back at the beach, at Valerie still in the water.
Would Elisabet and Dixon give upThe Valentine, their limestone chateau in Luberon, or their waterfront villa in Sardinia if it meant saving one another? Yes. Because they loved each other.Love.The word barely drifted into her thoughts before Adrienne was consumed with panic. No, it couldn’t be. Adrienne Vale didn’t fall in love with anyone. It was usually the other way around.
“There’s something in the water,” Safiya suddenly called from the other side of camp where she was squeezing out the last bit of water from her trousers. She pointed toward the sea. “Can you guys see it? Just past the breakers on the right.”
Adrienne squinted against the sun. First, she couldn’t figure out what Safiya was pointing to. Was it a pod of dolphins? But then she saw the unmistakable edges of a crate bobbing in the water.
Isla shot up from the ground. “Valerie! There’s mail in the ocean!”
Valerie dove into the water like a seal, and a few short minutes later, she was walking up the shore toward camp, carrying a wooden box the size of two shoeboxes stacked on top of each other.
“What the hell can that be?” Isla asked, jogging down to meet her.
Adrienne waited with Safiya back at camp and watched as Valerie set the box down on the ground. A laminated note was taped to the lid. Isla leaned in and read it aloud. “To the final four. The island has tested your grit but now comes the ultimate temptation. Will you indulge and satisfy your cravings or purify and draw out the island’s impurities?”
“Purify?” Adrienne asked. She’d once made the mistake of watchingThe Purgeand for a terrifying second her mind flashed to a dystopian horror show. Maybe Tamera had been right, maybe this wasLord of the Flies.
“Let’s open it,” Isla said, nodding her head toward Valerie, who’d gone and fetched the machete. She pried the lid open with the blade’s edge, and Adrienne, who was literally waiting on bated breath, exhaled when she spotted just another laminated letter. But wait. Her eyes went wide like dinner plates. Beneath the letter was....
“For the Sinners,” Valerie read, pulling out two gleaming bars of dark chocolate, thick with whole roasted hazelnuts and sea salt crystals. “To rot your teeth.” Then she reached back into the box and removed a sleek, matte-clay jar with a wooden spatula. “And for the Saints—”
Adrienne groaned like she was in the middle of an orgasm. “Is that a charcoal mud facemask?” Forget the chocolate. Before Valerie could even reply, Adrienne said, “I’ll swap you the chocolate for the face mask.” Then she remembered that Valerie was ignoring her and wondered if her grudge extended all the way to the treats.
But then Valerie smiled. And Adrienne’s knees quaked. Not because she knew that in a few minutes her skin would crack with the satisfying pull of drying volcanic clay, but because thiswas the white flag she’d been waiting for since the challenge yesterday. Adrienne’s chest ached with relief.
“Sounds like a fair trade,” Valerie said, handing one of the bars over to Isla, who declared that she was absolutely not sharing. Unless Safiya begged on her knees, then maybe she’d think about it. But probably not.
“I’m sorry,” Adrienne said before she could stop herself or wait for Isla and Safiya to at least move out of earshot. Then, out of the corner of her eye, Adrienne caught Isla guiding Safiya away by the wrist. She made a mental note to send Isla a vintage Hermès silk scarf. No. Make that two and a pair of Maison Margiela Tabi boots. Isla walked up to the lone cameraman dedicated to their camp life and whispered something in his ear. A moment later, he walked off.
She and Valerie were alone.
“I shouldn’t have offered you the money,” she said immediately. Nervously. It didn’t matter that Adrienne didn’t see the problem with it; what mattered was that Valerie did. “I blame the adrenaline and the very real possibility that I could develop compartment syndrome. Have you ever heard of compartment syndrome? I saw an Instagram story of a guy who did a thousand squats, and he had to have his leg cut open to release the pre—”
“Shhh,” Valerie interrupted, stepping closer. “I forgive you.” Then she took Adrienne’s hand and led her over to the same tree Adrienne had sat under a few minutes ago. “But I think I should explain to you why it upset me that much.”
“Shoot,” Adrienne said, biting back the smile on her face. She could smile later when Valerie had said what she wanted to say, but then again, their mouths might be busy doing something else.
Valerie scratched the bridge of her nose and looked down at her other hand. She was still holding onto Adrienne’s, who wasabsolutely not going to pull her fingers free. “My parents worked hard for everything we ever had,” Valerie said. “They taught me to do the same. And when you so casually offered up that million dollars, it felt like you were trying to wipe away the value of every single day I’ve spent sweating, sacrificing, and trying to build a life with my own two hands. You were trying to buy me out of a struggle that defines who I am.” Valerie then paused, but in a way that showed she wasn’t finished. She was just thinking how to word the next part without sounding rude. Not that it mattered. Adrienne had been rendered speechless. Throwing money at problems came as naturally as breathing. She hadn’t once thought it wouldn’t be the same for someone else.
“I know you think it was a gift,” Valerie went on finally. “But it was insulting.”
“I’m sorry,” Adrienne said again. She could argue and say that most people would happily accept such a gracious gift, but the look of utter rawness swimming in Valerie’s sea-glass green eyes hit Adrienne harder than a double shot of tequila on an empty stomach. “I understand.”
“Do you?” Valerie asked.
“I do,” Adrienne said. And she did. Kind of. Well, mostly. “Thank you for explaining it to me.” She laced her fingers with Valerie’s and squeezed. “Now there’s something I’d like to get off my chest.” Was she going to do it? Was she going to admit that there might be feelings swirling deep in the chambers of her very heart? Feelings that went way beyond lust and desire, feelings that had Adrienne imagining what it would feel like to steal the warmth of Valerie’s side of the bed on a rainy Sunday morning, or argue over what playlist to play on Spotify during a long sun-drenched drive along the Algarve coast in Italy, or to text Valerie dinner options for a Friday night—Peking duck from Phillipe Chow or wood-fired pies from San Matteo Pizzeria—and to sit on the kitchen countertop with the view of the London Eye and theshimmering Thames, sharing a pint of Gelupo Gelato with two spoons. Or even crazier than that... doing all of those things, but in Sitka.
“What is it?” Valerie asked, frowning softly.
Adrienne drew in a breath, opened her mouth to say it loud... Nope. She chickened out before she could say something completely irreversible. “Whatever happens at The Sending, if Isla and Safiya win, or either one of us wins, I want you to promise me that there won’t be any animosity between us.”
