Chapter 7 #2
Wait. If West is single, why is he on a couples cruise?
Is he single? Is this about to blow up in our faces and force me to kiss my half of the winnings goodbye?
Or did he book the wrong trip like I did?
Ugh. Whoever invented this game deserves a fucking raise because we haven’t even started playing yet, and I’m already having heart palpitations.
The first two contestants are called over to the wheel, chuckling nervously as they interact with the host and introduce themselves to the crowd.
They exchange a few whispered words and decide amongst themselves who will spin first. The audience eats it up, laughing and cheering them on as the guy raises a hand and spins the wheel with a showy gesture.
Okay, so I’m five foot one. There is no way I can reach the handle on that thing without looking like a complete idiot in this dress.
Doing a half-assed spin and failing in front of all these people is not an option, so I’m going to have to get creative.
I am a Stone, which basically means I am naturally competitive. I grew up in a house with two older brothers and only one, teeny tiny bathroom, so I know how to fight, and I always play to win.
I can feel West’s gaze on me everywhere, but I don’t allow myself to look back.
I don’t want to read what he might be thinking.
If he’s disgusted that we’ve been paired together out of everyone else here, or if, against all odds, he actually does find me attractive because both of those things will not help me in this moment. I need to focus.
We all watch as the wheel spins, the arrow clacking against each wedge, before it finally slows and eventually settles on a yellow slice with the words “Pleasure and Punishment” written in bold, glittery letters.
Daniel leans forward, eyes twinkling with mischief, as if he doesn’t expect that any of us would be willing to go through with whatever task is written on the cards in his hand.
“Pleasure and Punishment!” he shouts. The group looks nervous and I don’t blame them.
“This one will test the bonds of matrimony, people!” Just as I thought.
They’re going to play dirty. I don't believe they’d throw money like this around if there wasn’t a real chance we could all lose.
The couple exchanges a glance that’s half panic, half curious, and I get it.
Their partners are probably just as uncertain somewhere out there in the crowd.
“Your task is simple.” He lets the pause drag on, building anticipation until it’s so quiet in here, you could hear a pin drop.
“One of you will seduce the other, using every move you’d normally save for your spouse.
Whispers, teasing touches, lingering glances…
” His grin sharpens. “But here’s the catch.
Your partner must react convincingly. You’ve gotta sell it to the audience to make it to the next round, after all, they’re your judges.
There are no limits. Only you can decide your limitations.
” He turns to face the crowd, bouncing around the stage and giving off a spiel that only hypes the game up, meanwhile the contestants stand slack-jawed, staring at the wheel, probably regretting coming tonight.
Their eyes dart from the host to the audience and back again.
“How far will they go for fifty-thousand dollars?”
Whistles, laughter and applause fill the air, giving the couple much needed encouragement, but their worried expressions only prove just how dangerous this is.
Toying with relationships for money. Good thing I don’t have one.
They shift nervously, staring at each other for a beat, before the woman crosses her arms, closing herself off.
“I… uh. No. I can’t. I’m sorry. This is my honeymoon. I can’t do this.” She storms off the stage as the room breaks out in awkward chatter.
“Well… That’s one group down. Sorry buddy.
Maybe next time,” he says to the guy who looked more than willing to participate, but he just shrugs and makes his way off the stage as the crowd gives him a round of applause.
Daniel turns his attention back to the rest of us, waiting nervously for our turn.
The next couple steps up, trying their best to appear confident, but they’re not fooling anyone.
They’re just as terrified as the rest of us.
They spin the wheel, and just like the first round, the arrow lands on a category before they read their first task.
Only this time, it’s the guy who throws his hands in the air in protest, unable to go through with it. I respect the hell out of him for it.
“That’s unfortunate, folks. But there are still two couples left!
Will they make it past the first round?” I look up at West, and damn.
The corner of his lips is tilted into an amused smirk.
His heated gaze is almost assessing as his brilliantly blue eyes lock onto mine.
I take him in properly for the first time, letting my eyes roam, not caring if he notices.
His crisp white button-up is rolled to the elbows, revealing tattooed arms that flex beneath my gaze, fighting to break free of the fabric covering them. This man has muscle. Lots of it.
There’s a palpable edge to West. Like standing too close to a fire on your coldest night, desperate for warmth, for that rush of heat against your chilled skin, knowing it could leave you burned if you’re not careful.
One look too long, and I could find myself hypnotized, drawn to a flame like a moth that has unknowingly sealed its fate.
“How badly do you want to win, trouble?” Trouble? I push the word aside, forcing myself to focus. I lock eyes with him, letting every ounce of determination and intent shine through, daring him to challenge me, and after a beat, I finally answer.
“Enough to make you wish you’d stayed in your seat.”