Chapter Twelve #2
“Enjoy your rice and beans, ladies,” Savannah chirped like a savage.
After all, she was the infamous book critic who tore apart hopeful authors’ manuscripts on a daily basis; why not lean into it completely?
She jogged toward the bed while the rest of the contestants dragged their feet through the tide toward the lean-to.
Amy was already bouncing on her knees. Savannah leaped onto the bed. Oh, the mattress was deliciously plush, and the cushions were wickedly soft. She smoothed her hand over the ruffles of the throw blanket and moaned. “This has to be the best—what’s wrong?”
The smile had fallen from Amy’s face so fast Savannah’s brain went to the worst-case scenario.
Maybe this was actually just a dream, and an arrow was going to protrude from Amy’s chest, with blood gushing around it any second now.
If this were a fantasy novel, this would be the exact moment paradise collapsed into chaos.
“There’s a note,” Amy said stiffly, pointing toward a cream card sitting just behind the jar of amber syrup. Then she picked it up and opened her mouth to read it out loud. Fortunately, Savannah had the sense to snatch it out of her hand.
“It might be an advantage,” Savannah muttered under her breath. Or a disadvantage. Of course, it was too good to be true. In a game like this, an advantage could even be a disadvantage. “And if it is, we don’t want the others to know, do we?”
Amy’s eyes widened, then she nodded and leaned closer to Savannah, close enough for Savannah to catch a few tiny speckles of sand clinging to her left temple, each glinting gold beneath the sun.
Savannah quickly cleared her throat. Then she checked that no one was watching and began to read.
“The sanctuary is yours for the night,” she whispered softly.
“However, luxury enjoys company. You may choose one other pair to share this breakfast spread with you... or you can choose to keep it entirely to yourselves.”
Oh, the power.
Savannah stared at the card, then at the massive pitcher of mimosas, then at the rest of the contestants sulking around camp.
Ezra was already on bean and rice duty. Maya was sitting by the tree, nursing her apparent eye pain, and Avery was in the water, scrubbing at the sun-bleached ends of her hair.
The only parts Savannah could see of Luna and Kate were their feet sticking out of the lean-to.
“What do you want to do?” Savannah asked softly.
“Umm...” Amy said, biting her bottom lip with her left incisor.
There was nothing inherently sensual about it, and yet, it was entirely sensual all the same.
Savannah snapped her head away just to stop herself from looking.
It was like being offered a plate of brownies and being told she wasn’t allowed one.
The desire to kiss Amy was so excruciating. Ugh!
“How about we don’t say anything,” Amy said finally. “Not because I don’t want to share. I grew up sharing everything with six cousins, including socks. But because picking someone for a reward and leaving everyone else out ruins alliances. I don’t want that kind of target on our backs.”
Savannah grinned. She’d had the exact same thought. Great minds do think alike. Then she picked up a croissant, tore into it, and shoved away that hot feeling in her stomach just as the croissant shattered into a million golden flakes across her lap.
For the next ten minutes, it was complete savagery.
Amy went straight for the French toast and slathered syrup onto it while happily moaning up at the sky.
They clinked their mimosa flutes together, popped blackberries into their mouths, let the juice of the dragon fruit slide down their chins, and licked their yogurt spoons clean.
“How’s it going over there?” Luna asked, walking over to a flat driftwood log that hadn’t been there earlier that morning. It was as if production knew the rest of the contestants would want a spot to sit while they watched the winners indulge in their reward. “All I can hear are moans.”
“It’s going wonderfully,” Amy replied, licking powdered sugar off her fingers.
“Is the croissant buttery?” Kate asked, joining Luna by the log. She flopped down onto the sand and rested her back against the wood.
“It’s literally melting in my mouth,” Savannah replied, taking another bite just to be cruel.
“And the parfait?” Ezra chirped in, joining Kate and Luna. She dug the sharp tip of the machete into the sand and rested her chin on the handle. “Is the yogurt smooth and sweet or a little tart? I always like to fold in a bit of lime zest and a dash of cardamom to give it a little kick.”
“Silky smooth,” Amy called back, holding up her glistening spoon like a trophy.
“How about a little taste?” Avery said, cocking her head to the side. “I’d take a blackberry. Anything to cut the taste of beans and rice in my mouth.”
Savannah could do better than a blackberry.
She wasn’t heartless after all. She tore off a piece of croissant with enough heft to be tossed a fair distance and then flicked it toward Avery, who snatched it up in her palm.
Avery’s eyes rolled back with pleasure. “I hate you guys,” she muttered while chewing.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this envious in my life. ”
“How about tossing all of us a few scraps,” Luna said, tilting her head up as if she were a baby bird begging for worms. “Have mercy on us, please.”
Savannah turned to catch Amy’s eye. Were they even allowed to share?
But then, suddenly, everything stalled. Luna’s voice was muffled as she begged for a tiny taste of the French toast. Even the crash of the waves seemed to slow to a crawl.
There was just Amy, her lips dusted with powdered sugar, her bright eyes crinkling at the corners as she laughed, her voice like a siren’s song.
A sudden, searing heat ripped straight through Savannah’s chest. She felt entirely on fire.
But fires could be extinguished. They had to be.
She quickly gulped down the rest of the mimosa and hoped it would douse the blaze.
But it didn’t.
In fact, it made it much worse.