Page 35 of Exiled


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CHAPTERNINETEEN

Day Twenty-Three—Five teams remaining

Lauren


Archer carveda mark into our camp tree, marking the start of Day Twenty-Three on the island. After our competition and cookout on Day Twenty, we’d spent two long, hot, and boring days alone at camp. I hoped today wouldn’t be our third, but that would be up to the show’s producers.

“I didn’t have any luck fishing this morning,” he said, sitting down on a stump stool. “I almost had a big one, but it slipped off my line at the last second.”

“We’ve got plenty of rice,” I reminded him.

“Yeah, but I’ll go fishing again later. It’s not like I’ve got anything else to do.”

I pressed my lips together, forcing myself not to blurt out something that would ruin the platonic chemistry it had taken us a few days to get back after our night of sex in the rain. It didn’t help that I’d almost kissed him last night.

When I woke up in the middle of the night, I’d seen the outline of his face in the moonlight. He was asleep on his side facing me, and I’d reached out to gently touch his short, dark beard. That had led to me staring at his lips, which had led to me remembering how it felt when he kissed me.

I’d briefly considered something absolutely mad—waking him up with a kiss and asking him if he wanted to have a “night fling” with me. I wanted him so badly that I’d convinced myself it made perfect sense. During our camera-free time from one to five in the morning, we’d do anything and everything we wanted. But when our first camera operator arrived for the day, we’d go back to being just partners on a game show. Our night fling would be our little secret.

Of course it was a terrible idea. We could easily fall asleep and get busted naked the next morning, just like the first time. So as much as I wanted it, I’d closed my eyes and let the sound of the crashing waves lull me back to sleep.

“Who’s that?” Archer squinted at a golf cart that was approaching our camp on the beach.

“Is it Sal?” I asked.

“It might be, but there’s someone else, too.”

I went to stand next to him, both of us trying to figure out who it was.

“It’s Josh,” Archer said when they got close enough for us to see. “Sal’s driving and Josh is in the passenger seat.”

Sal stopped the golf cart at the edge of our camp, Nutter filming as Josh got out and approached us, passing Archer two plastic gallon-sized jugs of drinking water.

“Hey, everything okay?” Archer asked, because Josh had never come to our camp.

“Everything’s great,” Josh said. “I’m stopping at camps today to tell the teams individually about today’s competition. You’ll be following clues and collecting items from separate stations that we’ve set up. Everyone has to complete the competition to stay in the game, but there’s no time limit. Every team that finishes gets to advance.”

Archer and I exchanged a look, and he nodded.

“When do we start?” he asked.

“As soon as you want,” Josh said. “But first I need to tell you guys that you won’t be working as a team of two today, but rather as a team of four.”

“Fuck,” Archer said under his breath. “Tell me it’s not Neil and Shayla.”

“The other two members of your team will be staying at your camp for the next twenty-four hours,” Josh said. “And they’re heading this way now—you’ll see them approaching on the beach soon.”

Archer caught my gaze and inclined his head, indicating that he wanted me to follow him to the beach. We walked down there together, his wary expression matching my mood. I’d had more than enough of Josh and the producers’ curveballs. Archer and I had a system for doing things at camp, and having another team here would mess with our mojo.

It would also mess with our ability to have a night relationship. Not that we were going to, but still.

“Who the hell is that?” Archer said, shielding his eyes from the sun.

Whoever it was, they were waving at us. I waved back, and one of the mystery team members started running toward us.

My heart rate picked up as I watched the woman run. The way she pumped her arms reminded me of someone, but I just couldn’t place her. As she came closer, my eyes widened in shock and I covered my mouth with my hand, tears pooling in my eyes.

“Layla!”

It was my sister. And though I didn’t know how that was possible, I took off running as fast as I could, crying as we got closer and closer to each other.

“Lauren!” she cried as we ran into each other’s arms. “Look at you!”

I held her tightly, practically sobbing. She was wearing a red L.L. Bean T-shirt and she smelled like Flowerbomb perfume, her trademark fragrance. Classic Layla.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, pulling away to look at her.

Nearby, Archer was embracing a man I didn’t know.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re doing here, but it’s good to see you,” he said.

Archer looked over, doing a double take when he saw my sister.

“Layla?”

“Hello, Archer,” she said coolly.

Oh crap. Layla hated Archer.

“What are you doing here?” I asked her again, because that mattered more than her feelings for my ex.

“A producer asked me if I wanted to come spend twenty-four hours with you at your camp, so here I am.” She grinned.

“Lo, this is one of my teammates, Simon Granger,” Archer said. “Simon, this is Lauren and her sister Layla.”

“Hey, nice to meet you,” Simon said, shaking my hand, and then Layla’s.

Simon had short blond hair and the same, tall, lean, athletic build as Archer. He wore a Minnesota Mammoths T-shirt and black athletic shorts.

“I’m supposed to give this to you guys,” he said, taking a paper out of his shorts pocket.

Archer unfolded it and met my gaze. “It’s the directions to start our competition.”

I hugged my sister again, unconcerned with anything but her. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I know! You’re so thin. I wish I had a pizza for you or something.”

“Just seeing you is all I need.”

She leaned in close. “Is it awful being stuck here with him?”

“No, it’s fine.”

This was awkward. I couldn’t dish with my sister about the whole truth while Archer was so close by, because he might be able to hear me. Not to mention that Nutter was filming everything.

Layla snorted. “No, it’s not. I know you want to be diplomatic, but he’s the worst and we both know it.”

Before coming here, I’d have agreed with her. In fact, I was the one who had been leading that charge for eight years now.

Archer and Simon walked toward camp in front of us, Layla and I lingering behind slowly, our arms around each other’s shoulders. My sister put out her free hand, and before I even realized what was happening, she was flipping the bird at Archer’s back.

“Stop,” I hissed, pushing her hand down.

“What? I don’t care if he sees me. Or if he hears me call him an asshole.” She raised her voice on the last word, and Archer turned around, glancing at us before focusing his attention on Simon again.

“Layla, stop,” I said. “I mean it. Not one more word…or gesture about Archer. Tell me everything about home. I miss everyone so much. That’s all I want to talk about.”

“Everyone’s good,” she said. “Mom got Dad a big tool chest on wheels for his birthday, but she forgot that she bought him the same gift three years ago, so now he has two.”

I smiled. “That sounds about right. And did you guys have lasagna and carrot cake on Father’s Day?”

“Of course.”

“I know it hasn’t been that long, but it feels like I’ve been gone forever,” I said as we reached our camp.

“Oh god, is this where you live?” Layla turned to me, wide-eyed. “Is that where you sleep?”

“Yep. That’s our shelter.”

She swatted at the bugs swarming around her. “Do you have any bug spray?”

I just laughed. “No, but you get used to it.”

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