Chapter Four
Scott
The challenge standing in front of me looks like something out of American Ninja Warrior.
We’re gathered at the far end of the villa where the cliffs drop sharply into the ocean.
Ropes and narrow platforms are out at a point where it’s more of a drop-off.
Below, waves slap rocks in a steady rhythm that sounds deceptively calm from the height of one story at most.
Helmets and harnesses hang from metal hooks. Coiled ropes and planks are tied together to create bridges. And a line of black fabric blindfolds sits on silver trays in front of us like party favors. And not in a good way. My pulse ticks up as I map the course.
This is a two-person challenge without a doubt, given the blindfolds.
The planks are wonky and separate on purpose.
Lyla would be just nimble enough to get across.
But given my own size, I’ll probably struggle more, especially if I’m going to be blindfolded.
At least that’s how I think how this will go.
“Today’s challenge tests trust, communication, and teamwork,” Miranda announces.
“In your assigned couples, one partner will be blindfolded while the other, on the ground level, will verbally navigate their partner across this suspended obstacle course, down the final descent, and into the water. Once the course begins, no physical contact is allowed. And if you or your partner falls”—she gestures lightly toward the deep water below—“you will be disqualified from the challenge.”
A ripple of tension moves through the group.
Trevor raises his hand. “So the blindfolded partner has to rely completely on the other’s verbal guidance?”
Miranda nods once. “At the halfway point, you’ll switch roles. First team to finish wins an overnight getaway. All-inclusive luxury hotel, private beach, couples massage, and gourmet dinner.”
I look over at Lyla beside me. Color drains from her face for a beat before she smooths her expression into something neutral. She hasn’t looked at me once since that kiss.
The memory flashes hot and fast—her mouth open under mine, her fingers grip my shirt into fists, her soft curves press firmly against me, the sweet whimpers and moans that made my cock hard and ready to claim her.
A trust exercise. With Lyla. Clearly, the irony isn’t lost on either of us.
Twenty-four hours alone with Lyla, without any interference from other contestants, would be all I need to not just explain what happened between us ten years ago, but also—maybe, just maybe—find some reconciliation.
I don’t expect to fix what’s been broken overnight, to win her heart back, but with the right words, it could be a step in the right direction at rekindling what we had.
And this time, I could give her everything that I couldn’t then.
Lyla grabs the silky blindfold with one hand, looking up at me with apprehension. The thought of Lyla blindfolded, helpless, and having no choice but to follow my every command has me reeling with anticipation. My cock hardens painfully against my trunks.
“I’ll go first,” I offer, stepping forward and grabbing the blindfold.
I notice her at the corner of my eye watching me. She exhales as though sighing in relief. “Fine.”
You’re not off the hook yet, little one.
Before I put on the blindfold, I look to her. She inhales sharply under my gaze.
“I trust you.” And then darkness envelops me.
Moments later, I hear a whistle indicating the challenge has begun. But the second we start, I nearly misstep.
“There are some planks ahead,” Lyla yells to me. “So… yeah.”
I stop. “Little one, I need more information than that.”
“What? You want a play-by-play?”
“Tell me what’s in front of me.”
She huffs out a sigh like I’ve inconvenienced her. “Planks.”
No shit.
“They’re very…planky,” she adds.
I turn in the direction of her voice. “Did you just describe wood as ‘planky’?”
“I’m a wedding planner, not a carpenter. Not that you’d know.”
If only she knew…
I can’t help but smirk. “Keep talking. I need your voice.”
She scoffs. “That’s funny, because you didn’t seem to need it for a decade.”
Despite her lack of guidance, I try to move anyway. With the dragging of my feet across the planks and my hands holding the rope on either side of me, I’m able to move at least five steps from where I started. But each step costs me my balance.
I wobble before finding my footing again. I bite back a curse.
“Oh.” She feigns innocence with sarcasm in her voice. “Was I supposed to help?”
That bratty attitude would sound very different over my knee.
But as much as I’d love to imagine that or make it reality, the chances of that happening are slim to none. At least for now.
I manage to steady myself again before I come across what feels like a gap of open air under my foot.
“Lyla, what’s happening?”
I’m met with silence for a long moment before I hear an extensive sigh.
“There’s a gap under your foot. Stretch out your leg. A little more. Yes. Right there.”
Following her instructions, I feel my foot eventually meet solid wood.
“Okay, couples!” Miranda’s peppy voice reaches my ears. “Time to switch!”
Finally.
I pull off the blindfold and turn to Lyla as she walks through the obstacle course to me. Anticipation coils tight in my chest.
She looks like she’d rather face the obstacle course alone than hand control over to me.
Moments later, I secure the helmet on her head, while someone from the crew releases me from the harness, and straps her in.
Despite the producer’s insistence the obstacle course is safe, I test the knots around her—nice and tight.
But that doesn’t stop the growing need to get her off of the potential death trap.
When I’m satisfied, I hand her the blindfold. “Your turn, little one.”
“Let’s just get this over with.” She tries to swipe it from my hand.
I pull away. “Let me put it on for you.”
She tries to take it from my hands again. “No. I can do it on my own.”
Is that how you’ve been going through life since I’ve been gone?
Her tone is dismissive, but she doesn’t look away. Doesn’t retreat. She just stands there, watching me like she’s testing how much I’ll push.
I give in, handing her the blindfold. “Suit yourself.”
Switching positions, I come down to ground level as she settles into position.
I watch intently as she raises the blindfold to her face and over her eyes. It changes her expression instantly. When her eyes are covered, the sharpness in her expression disappears. Her breathing shifts subtly. Her lips part slightly.
She looks so vulnerable. Hell, yes!
“As a reminder to everyone, no touching your partner once the challenge continues,” Miranda states. “And if one or both of you falls, you both will be out of the running to win this challenge.”
Feeling satisfied that the harness has her secured, I step back and off the set of stairs.
When the whistle sounds again, Lyla grips the ropes on either side of her, seemingly frozen in fear. “I-I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can, just relax and follow my voice.”
“Relax? Yeah right.”
“There are three wooden planks ahead of you,” I explain with careful detail. “Each are about a few inches apart. They’re stable. Take a step for me.”
She swallows, remains frozen in place.
“Lyla, just walk straight steps for me. I’m not going to let you fall, little one.”
“How can I trust that?”
“Think about it. Why would I let you fall?”
She sighs and hangs her head. Then, as if she’s contemplating on what to do, she takes a step. The tip of her left foot taps on the first plank, like she’s trying to feel where it is, before she settles her entire foot on it. Then she repeats that with her right foot on the next plank.
Maybe my adrenaline is spiking, or maybe I don’t like her up there, but the ocean seems louder now, wind pushing salt air up the cliff face. Her hand shakes toward where the rope railing should be but stops short.
“Oh, my god. Oh, god.” She begins to panic.
Without thinking, I rush toward her. But I’m stopped at the sound of Miranda reminding me of the rule.
Fuck.
I glare at her, then look back to Lyla.
“Something’s wrong,” Lyla panics again. “I can’t feel anything under my foot.” She hovers the tip of her sneaker over a gap in the rope.
“Move your foot two inches to your left,” I instruct.
Nodding, she eventually finds the plank, sighing in relief.
“Good girl. Now, keep your shoulders square.”
“Okay, I think I got this,” Lyla hollers to me.
Uhh…what?
The girl still has a ways to go—blindfolded—and she thinks she can cross this course on her own?
“Love the confidence, doll, but I disagree.”
She scoffs. “Of course you would.”
When she makes it to the next step, she begins to wobble. She gasps. Her whole body shakes as the plank shifts slightly.
My pulse spikes. “Lyla, stop. You’re going to fall.”
She ignores me and keeps going.
“Lyla, I need you to stop,” I repeat, dropping my voice down an octave. “You’re going to fall, and we’re going to lose.”
She stops and pauses “We’re going to lose? All the more reason.”
It’s like…she wants to lose.
Is that her plan? Is that what this defiance is about?
“Despite what you may think, I can do this my—”
Before she can finish that sentence, she reaches out a foot, and it only hits air. She puts her pointed foot out in multiple directions only to come to the same conclusion. What she doesn’t realize, and only I can see, is that she has to balance on a rope at the far left.
I sigh. Clearly my point has been made. “Adjust your right foot half an inch forward and just slightly to your left. There’s a knot in the wood.”
She remains frozen in place, fear etched across her face despite the blindfold. Silence stretches between us except for wind and water below.
“As much as you don’t care about winning, you and I both know you don’t want to fall. So with that said…you’re going to have to trust me.”
Her laugh is brittle. “That’s rich.”