Chapter 29 Charlie
CHARLIE
RED ALERT! RED ALERT! Bennett took his shirt off today and I died, then I came back to life, just so I could see it again, and I died again!
Like I was just innocently WALKING DOWN THE STREET, bringing the Forresters some of the lemonade my mom made for them.
He was outside, with his back to me, and suddenly he just RIPPED OFF HIS SHIRT AND USED IT TO WIPE THE SWEAT ON HIS FOREHEAD, and then when I made some sort of choking noise, HE TURNED AND SAID HELLO TO ME.
I don’t think words can do the sight of him justice, so I won’t even try.
I may be physically writing in this journal, but my spirit will be frozen on the walkway in front of the Forresters’ house forever.
“We need to change the bandage.” Bennett stood in front of me with the first aid kit. I was sitting outside in the fresh, clean air. The storm had moved on sometime in the night, leaving behind puddles, damp ground, and the amazing scent of alder and dogwood lingering throughout our camp.
“I can do it,” I said. Allowing even a sliver of the memory of Bennett’s fingers running along my ribs made me feel overheated. I couldn’t trust myself if he were to touch me again.
If I hadn’t been in so much pain, I would have begged him to kiss me, especially after he melted me with his story about Hansel. As if it weren’t enough that he’d had to marry me—I wasn’t going to guilt him into kissing me too. My neediness had to have boundaries.
He set the kit beside me and went back to fixing a few of the logs on the side of our shelter that had readjusted during the storm. I knew he wanted to call base camp and have me looked at by a doctor, but he was respecting my wishes. And not being a passive-aggressive baby about it either.
Why was that so hot?
No, really. This kind of behavior should be expected of a grown man, but I was so used to walking on eggshells, justifying every decision I made, and being patronized that I’d forgotten what it felt like to be around someone who trusted me.
When it came down to it, that’s what this was.
He trusted me to know my limits, and I trusted him to respect me.
It felt like I was holding a precious baby bird in my palms, and I needed to be careful.
I finished attending to my cut, which looked much better than I expected based on how much it hurt.
The butterfly bandages were holding up nicely, and it wasn’t puffy or red like I feared.
I sprayed more antiseptic on it, and antibiotic gel, before I tucked the hem of my shirt into my bra to let the wound breathe.
Also, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world for Bennett to see that it looked okay in the light of day, because I knew he was worried about me.
A trilling noise sounded from inside our shelter.
“Did you hear that?” I asked Bennett, who also paused to listen. “Is that a ringing?”
“It’s the SAT phone.”
Bennett and I went into the shelter, and he moved our sleeping bag to reveal the SAT phone tucked under the side he’d slept on.
“Did you have that near you all night?” I asked.
“In case something happened to you.”
I gave him a tight side hug in gratitude. I might not always know where the fake ended and the real began in this marriage of ours, but I knew this: Bennett cared for me. And to be cared for by someone like Bennett shouldn’t be taken for granted.
He answered the phone. I tried not to wring my hands in anxiety. The show only called for one reason after you lost a challenge—to let you know your punishment.
Bennett’s nodding gave me no indication of what was being said. He looked at me closely, his gaze flitting down to my ribs, then back up again to my lips. My stomach swooped, as if his gaze were an actual touch, which was both delicious and disconcerting.
“I understand. We’ll do better.” He gave me a meaningful look I couldn’t interpret and then held the phone away from his ear and turned on speakerphone.
Savannah’s familiar voice came through the tinny speaker. “Unfortunately, Team Forrester did not complete the challenge. For your punishment, you will each need to give up one item.”
I nearly collapsed in relief. We weren’t getting sent home yet.
“Near the shoreline,” Savannah continued, “you’ll find a wooden box with buoys. You will put your items inside and push the box out to sea, where it will be picked up by a crew member. Choose wisely, though, because being without the wrong item could send you home.”
The call ended, and Bennett dropped the phone onto the sleeping bag. “I’ll give up two items.”
“No. You won’t.”
“You’re already not well, and I’m not letting you give up an item on top of everything else.”
“And I won’t let you give up two.”
We stared at each other, locked in a battle of wills—Bennett so determined to save me, and me determined not to let him do so at his own expense.
I’d realized something being out here for so long: Bennett always put himself last. If there was extra food, he insisted I eat it.
When the washing water was warm, he wanted me to use it first. He slept on the cold side of the sleeping bag, away from the fire.
Even when he whittled our utensils, he gave me the smoother spoon.
Bennett would give until he had nothing left, and I couldn’t allow him to do that. I didn’t know why he was this way, but I was starting to suspect it had everything to do with his dad. That man had thrown a trauma grenade on his family before he’d walked out the door.
“We’re in this together, Ben.” I stepped forward and took his hand.
“I’m going to give up my compass because I don’t even go in the woods.
You’re the one who’s been setting the traps and hunting.
” I sometimes gathered berries and lichen, but I didn’t go farther than twenty to thirty feet from the coastline, always keeping it or our shelter in my line of sight.
Bennett looked like he wanted to keep arguing, but I squeezed his hand. A let me do this gesture.
He moved his jaw from side to side. “I’ll give up the shirt I’ve been wearing to sleep in. I’m warm with both of us in the bag, and I can wear one of my other shirts if I really need to.”
A sudden image of being snuggled against his bare chest every night flashed. Not the worst image I’d ever had. “That works.” Did I sound casual enough?
“Oh good, I’m glad that works for you,” he teased, and I was glad to see him coming out of his serious headspace. He motioned to his stomach and chest with a wink. “Easier access to all of this.”
My face heated. “Remember how we were never going to bring that up again?”
He sucked air through his teeth as he shook his head. “Nope. Don’t recall that. I only remember the specific amount of shading right near my—”
I covered his mouth with my hand. His eyes twinkled back at me. I loved this side of Bennett, even if it was a slow torture to be reminded of my journal artwork.
His lips brushed my palm, and my blood rushed through my body so quickly, I felt lightheaded. I yanked my hand back, and he turned to his bag with a smirk.
Bennett was a flirt. He teased me all the time. We were supposed to play up our relationship for the cameras. All these things were true, and yet…
Being with Bennett before we came out here was like being wrapped in a warm blanket in front of a blazing fire on a snowy day. Since coming out here? The cozy cabin was engulfed in flames—and as it turned out, I craved the heat.
“Find your compass?” He looked up from his bag, his nightshirt in hand. Man, he was gorgeous. The kind of gorgeous that hurt. Like touching a pan so hot it felt cold. “Charlie?”
I shook my head to focus on the task on hand and not on how much Bennett could muddle my brain if I wasn’t on my guard. “Um, finding it right now.”
We gathered our items and took them out to the shore. We found a box hidden in some bushes, which also must have been hidden during med check. Bennett and I would need to be more observant in the future.
We placed our items inside and sent them out to sea, standing there until the box got smaller and smaller in the distance.
“It’s like an item funeral,” I said.
“You were good to us, shirt and compass.” Bennett pulled his hat off and held it to his heart. “We don’t know if we’ll see you again, but I hope we do, because I really liked that shirt.”
“Fare thee well,” I called after the crate. We looked at each other and started to laugh, to the point where my ribs killed me and I had to cross my legs. “Now I need to pee.”
“I’ll come with you.”
This was new. “Don’t necessarily need an audience.”
He let out a snort laugh. “I won’t watch. Promise.”
“Listening isn’t ideal either,” I muttered, but he followed me anyway, leaving the cameras behind on a rock.
Bennett had gone out this morning before I woke up and gathered the cameras we’d abandoned last night.
He said the spot we’d been in was treacherous with roots, even in the daylight.
At night, it was disastrous, which we’d discovered firsthand.
I went to my bathroom spot, and true to his word, he kept walking until he was several feet away and behind a tree.
When I finished and began walking back to camp, he whistled like a bird. I turned to find him waving me over to him. Confused, I approached him, and he pulled me behind the tree.
“You didn’t pee here, did you?”
“Not just now,” he said.
“But earlier?”
He bit back a smile. “We only have a minute. Savannah says we haven’t kissed at all, and people are starting to notice.” The first couple of episodes would have aired already, which was weird to think about. I knew in theory people would be watching us, but it was easy to forget out here.
“We’ve air-kissed at brilliant angles,” I said, feeling more indignant than I had any right to. Especially since we hadn’t kissed.
“Yeah, well, it’s not enough. She says we need to be more affectionate, or the next challenge will be our last.”
Yikes. “That’s ominous.”
“Yep.”
I pictured me and Bennett climbing aboard a wooden box with buoys and being sent out to sea in punishment. I set my shoulders back with resolve. “We’ll have to do better.”
“Is it okay with you? If we kiss?” he asked me, all of his teasing gone.
“Yeah. I think we need to.” Did I sound too eager?
We’d kissed on our wedding day, but I hardly remembered it.
The whole day was a blur when I looked back on it.
Maybe a kiss really was what we needed. Not to sell our relationship to the audience, but for me to get whatever this was out of my system.
Like that time I went skydiving. I did it once, and that was enough for me. Bragging rights forever—and the sure knowledge that I never needed to jump out of a plane again.
“Okay.” He slid his hand along my cheek.
Oh. We were doing this now. Right this second. The cameras weren’t even close, but it was better not to overthink this. I held my breath, not sure if I should push up on my heels and meet him halfway or wrap my arms around his neck.
Almost there. He was so close …
But then he darted to the side and picked something out of my hair. He pulled back and showed me a beetle the size of his thumbnail. “This just dropped on you. I didn’t want it to burrow deeper in your hair.”
I shuddered all the way to my soul. I hated bugs. So much.
I went to step to the side, but he grabbed my arm with a wince. “Don’t step there.”
“That’s where you peed?” I said, my voice a little shriller than necessary.
He smirked. “Come on. Let’s get the cameras.” He paused, and this time when he brought his hand to my face, I held completely still, waiting for him to retrieve another bug. Instead, his brushed his thumb along my cheek, sending shivers through me. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
I swallowed hard. “Yes.” More ready than I should admit.
“Good.” His smile was the confident one that used to star in my dreams every night. “Me too.”