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CHAPTERTWO
Lauren
My traitorous pulseraced with excitement, but I kept my expression cool and disinterested. Archer had gotten even more attractive in the eight years since I’d seen him.
But he’s an asshole, I reminded myself. It took me more than a year to get over him.
Over him or not, I couldn’t help studying him as the line of female partners approached the hockey players.
Hell. Not so much as a receding hairline. Since smashing my heart into a million pieces eight years ago, Archer had filled out. The eighteen-year-old I’d been so in love with was all man now, down to his cocky grin.
“Lo,” he said once we were face-to-face. “I, uh…hey.”
Hey? We hadn’t spoken since splitting, and when hit with the bombshell that I was his partner in this reality show, he said hey?
There was movement beside me, and I turned just in time to see my new friend Andrea McCay slap a tall, muscular man across the face. Hard.
So, that was Rod Larimore.
“I deserved that,” he said softly, looking down and then back up at her.
She scoffed. “You really want to talk about what you deserve?”
He put his hands out in front of him. “Not now, Andrea. Please.”
“Rod,” the host of the show said, looking pleased. “How do you feel about being paired with Andrea?”
Rod gave him a wry look. “Feels amazing, Josh. Thanks for asking.”
The thirty-two women who would potentially be competing on the show had spent the past couple days together, sequestered in a resort in Fiji. I’d spent lots of time getting to know some of them, so I knew how much Andrea, an Olympic swimmer, despised her ex. She was a stunning Black woman, nearly six feet tall, her hair in braids and her smile flawless.
If only I could be her partner for this show, instead of Archer Fucking Holt’s.
“Guys, gather around,” Josh said.
“Is this for real?” a hockey player whose name I didn’t know asked, his eyes bulging. “I’m getting stranded on this island with my ex-wife?”
“It’s the ultimate test,” Josh said.
He went on to explain the concept of the show, and I took off my worn baseball hat, wiped the half gallon of sweat from my brow, and put the hat back on.
“It’s a little warm here, huh?” Josh said, grinning. “Well, you may be glad to know that you get to choose five items each to take to your camps, and one of those is a solar-powered fan.”
There was a collective gasp. Apparently everyone else was on the verge of melting too.
Archer snuck a glance at me as Josh kept talking, and I scowled. He sighed softly.
As he should.
Nothing about this was going to be easy, but I wanted to show my family, my students, and most of all myself that I could do it. If I invested $50,000 for each of my nephew’s college funds now, they’d be set by the time they reached eighteen. I could buy a house, mortgage-free. The prize money from this show was well worth having to see Archer again.
Of course, I would have preferred the show be set in the Arctic, so I wouldn’t have to see him shirtless. It wasn’t just hot here, it was tropical. The heat was oppressive and the air humid. I’d already sweated through the bikini top beneath my Ramones T-shirt, and the situation inside my bikini bottoms, covered by cutoff jean shorts, was also…moist.
“Did you know I was going to be here?” Archer asked me.
Did I know? I’d hardly thought about anything else since a producer from the show called me six weeks ago to tell me I’d been selected.
“Yep,” I said, not looking at him.
“If you wanted to see me, you could’ve just called.”
Turning my gaze in his direction, I narrowed my eyes. He was as arrogant as ever.
“I didn’t want to see you.”
“Okay, everyone,” Josh said, forcing us to look at him instead of each other. “It’s time to choose five items to take to your camp. Every player gets five, but choose carefully, because you can’t swap later. This is all you’ll have to work with unless you’re lucky enough to find a treasure chest. You can look for those as much as you want, and remember, ex marks the spot.”
Lord. I was playing pirate on an island with Archer Holt.
“The chests are hidden all over the island,” Josh said. “If you find them, you’ll get to keep the supplies inside, which you’ll definitely want.”
Maybe there was a bag in one of the chests that I could put over Archer’s head. A girl could hope.
“Don’t take the soap,” Archer said when it was our turn to pick.
“Eat shit,” I murmured.
He chose an ax, flint, a tarp, a fishing net, and fishing hooks. I looked longingly at the soap and shampoo, knowing they were planted on the table by the show’s producers to sort out the serious female players from the ones who knew every IG filter by name.
“Machete,” Archer said, meeting my gaze.
He’d grown up hunting and fishing with his dad. Archer knew how to survive outdoors. And while I wanted to shove the machete up his ass, I had to work with him if I was going to win the money.
I took the machete, two canteens, a mosquito net, and a hammock.
“It’s time for you to head to your camps,” Josh announced. “You’ll each have two camera operators, but don’t engage with them. Tomorrow is a free day, and you’ll get a message about our first competition, which will happen the following morning.”
“What kind of a competition?” Rod asked.
“You’ll have to wait and see,” Josh said, grinning.
The host and crew of Exiled would be staying at the resort where the women had been for the past couple days. I already envied them. Air conditioning, massages, and breakfast buffets for them. Sweat, bug bites, and Archer Holt for me.
“Okay,” Archer said, pointing to a spot on the map. “Our site is here. We need to go this way.” He pointed to the left.
“I agree.”
He gave me a look, a grin playing on his lips. Even now, that grin did things to me. Not that I’d ever admit it to him. Giving in to that grin would be a one-way ticket to heartbreak.
We picked up our stuff and Archer walked ahead. I looked around for Andrea, my only friend here, but she’d already left. Archer turned and gave me an expectant look.
“You ready?” he asked.
“I’m coming. I was just trying to get my bearings.”
“You don’t need to. You’ve got me,” he said.
Ha. There had been a time I’d had him, but that part of my life was long over. I was wiser at twenty-six than I’d been at eighteen. I wouldn’t open myself up to being blindsided ever again.
I served as the rowing coach at the school where I taught. I’d earned a full academic scholarship to college. And I was devoted to my family. I wasn’t a pro athlete, but I wouldn’t be intimated by my competition. I deserved to be here as much as anyone, and I’d fight for that money with everything in me.
“What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, right?” I murmured to myself.
I swatted a bug away from my face and followed my douchebag ex into the jungle.
