Chapter Seventeen
Valerie had broken her golden rule. Do not lose your mind. But she was losing it.
Luckily, so was everyone else. The bamboo tables had been completely ravaged.
Empty wine bottles were stuck upside down in the sand.
Across the rugs, Sienna and Isla were barefoot and slow-dancing to the sultry music of Smokey Robinson coming from a palm-sized speaker perched in the crook of an olive tree.
Sitting cross-legged on a cushion, Safiya popped the last of the glistening purple Mission figs into her mouth and cheered them on.
Niko passed a bottle of wine to Amy, who, instead of taking it like a normal, sane person, tipped her head back.
Pink-colored wine flowed out of the sides of her mouth, earning an entire chorus of cheers.
Valerie clapped her hands so hard her palms stung.
“Listen up, you beautiful people,” Tamera shouted a moment later.
She stumbled slightly as she climbed onto a plush shearling pouf, then unrolled the parchment paper she’d swiped earlier from the table.
“Dear contestants,” she read again. They’d already dissected the note three hours ago when the sun was still blazing in the sky.
“The Outlast Her gods are fickle, but they are not entirely heartless. We couldn’t make you suffer and then expect you to survive on rice.
Please enjoy this feast. P.S. Drink the rosé before it warms.”
“Thank you, Outlast Her gods,” Niko said sloppily, raising her glass high enough to spill a few drops of wine onto her bare feet. “May your editing cuts be kind to our double chins.”
Safiya pushed herself up. “I love you guys,” she said. “And when this game ends, I want to be friends with all of you. Please accept my follow requests on Instagram. Even you, Adrienne Vale, with all your trillions of followers.”
Valerie laughed, then threw herself back onto a pouf.
When she got back to civilization, she would promptly delete her social media accounts.
She had no need for them anymore. After all, she’d only re-downloaded Instagram to stalk Adrienne, and now she was quite sure she wouldn’t need to after this.
She also couldn’t believe how silly she’d been.
She had actually thought that the unsmiling woman in those oversized Celine sunglasses reflecting the Eiffel Tower, wearing a camel Max Mara coat draped over her shoulders, was the real Adrienne.
But it wasn’t even close. The real Adrienne was the one who whistled in her sleep, whose hair looked like a bird’s nest come morning, who had nearly lost a limb from an axe the other day because she was trying to prove a point.
The real Adrienne was the one who, just yesterday morning, had laughed so hard she’d farted, and then laughed even harder.
The Adrienne who was currently walking toward Valerie with a goofy smile on her face and two macarons displayed proudly on her palm. That was the Adrienne Valerie couldn’t stop thinking about.
Adrienne spun around and stood in front of Valerie. “The best macarons I’ve ever had were at Ladurée on the Champs-élysées in Paris. They’re legendary.”
“I’ve never liked macarons,” Valerie said. “It’s like chewing on flavored chalk.”
“Really?” Adrienne asked, looking utterly flabbergasted. “I promise you’ll like the ones at Ladurée. They age them for twenty-four hours, so the ganache infuses into the meringue.”
Valerie just smiled.
“What are you thinking about?” Adrienne asked, then fell back and landed on top of Valerie. “A dollar for your thoughts.”
“It’s a penny,” Valerie corrected.
“Not in my house.”
Valerie nearly leaned forward and buried her nose in the crook of Adrienne’s neck, but luckily caught herself.
The horror. There were still two cameras trained on them, and although the cameramen were currently focused on Niko balancing a wineglass on her head, the risk was huge.
“Speaking of houses,” Valerie said. “What are you doing when this ends?”
“Are you asking because you’re actually interested in what I do with my life outside of this game, or because you’re wondering what’s going to happen between us when it’s over?”
“Can it be both?”
Adrienne didn’t say anything at first. In fact, she didn’t say anything at all. Instead, she slipped a hand beneath the cotton of Valerie’s robe and smoothed a hand along her thigh.
Everywhere that Adrienne’s fingers went, a flock of goosebumps followed.
If this was how Adrienne redirected a question she didn’t want to answer, Valerie didn’t mind.
Or she wouldn’t have if they weren’t surrounded by contestants and crew alike.
She jerked. Then overcompensated by blindly reaching for the nearest thing on the bamboo table.
A half-eaten Mission fig. “You’re changing the subject,” Valerie said, wiping her sticky hands with a serviette.
“I am,” Adrienne retorted. “Because I think reality is going to hit us hard enough the second we step off this island. Let’s just enjoy the moment and live in the present.”
That wasn’t the answer Valerie wanted to hear. The opposite actually. Adrienne had just drawn a boundary line in the sand and Valerie wanted to smudge it with her toe. But she didn’t. Instead, she inhaled and pressed her lips together before she said something she’d regret.
Not that she had the chance.
Next moment, Tamera was charging past them, discarding her clothes and kicking up a spray of loose sand as she went. Valerie whipped her head back just to see two pale, white ass cheeks flashing under the moon before Tamera vanished into the crashing surf.
Whose idea was it to go skinny dipping?
“Should we join them?” Adrienne asked. But her decision was already made. She was halfway up and had her hand extended for Valerie to take. “I haven’t skinny dipped in ages.”
Valerie would rather have spent the moment alone on this pouf with Adrienne’s hand pressed against her thigh while they talked about the possibility of a future between them outside of this game.
Was that a crazy thing to want? Especially now that the rosé haze was starting to lift.
But she didn’t have a choice. Adrienne yanked her linen top over her head, revealing her toned stomach, and then the mere thought of letting Adrienne go naked into that dark ocean while Valerie sat high and dry on the beach was entirely incomprehensible.
Every protective, possessive instinct she had flared to life.
Which was why she let Adrienne grab her wrists and pull her body out of the pouf.
They both reached the beach just in time to see Niko howling at the moon.
Next second she dove headfirst into the crest of a breaking wave.
Safiya followed right after. Amy too, and then Isla and Sienna.
By the time Valerie’s feet hit the packed wet sand, she was still fiddling with the stubborn string of her bikini top.
Thankfully, Adrienne was right there. She gently swatted Valerie’s clumsy fingers away. “I’ll do it,” she murmured.
Valerie shuddered at her touch, and again when the knot unraveled, and the fabric slid down her shoulders, pooling around her waist. Before she could slip it off, Adrienne’s fingertips were running down her spine.
“You really know how to tease a woman,” she muttered, soft enough just for Adrienne to hear. Not that she needed to. The rumble of the ocean was loud enough to make their conversation completely private.
“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Adrienne said, and when Valerie looked back at her, Adrienne was smiling.
Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight, her mouth was perfectly rosy, incredibly magnetizing.
“Now come before they have all the fun.” Then she grabbed Valerie’s hand, and together they jogged into the water.
This wasn’t the first time Valerie had gone swimming naked.
She had gone skinny dipping on every boat she’d ever worked on.
A midnight jump off the swim platform was practically a rite of passage after a charter.
But this was the first time she’d stripped off her clothes with the intention of kissing a beautiful woman under the cover of the sea.
“You know what the best part about this is?” Niko exclaimed from a few yards away. She kicked up a stream of water that glowed silver in the moonlight. “I don’t think production can even broadcast this. We’re literally forcing them to edit around our tits.”
“This is so fun,” Amy said, stretching out a short leg above the water. She pointed her toes, then kicked both legs upward in a splash. “I can’t believe I’ve never skinny dipped.”
“You’re a virgin?” Niko laughed. “A skinny dip virgin. How is that even possible? You’re a steamy romance writer. Isn’t naked frolicking in the dark ocean your bread and butter?”
Amy wiped a spray of salt from her eyes. “My characters get naked in barns, bedrooms, and the occasional highly inappropriate tack room, Niko. Not in open water with jellyfish, camera crews, and eight women I met a week ago.”
Niko laughed, then dipped under the ocean surface.
Adrienne floated on her back, her nipples pointing toward the moon.
Valerie treaded water just a foot away. Her eyes were locked on the elegant line of Adrienne’s throat.
Seeing her like that, beautifully exposed, made Valerie want to slide closer, to tangle their legs and swim away to where no one could see them.
“You look like you’ve done this before,” Valerie whispered, spreading her arms out just below the surface. “Floating naked under the moonlight.”
“Once or twice,” Adrienne admitted, her eyes closed against the starlight. “Last time was in Ibiza. Off the back of a catamaran... with Lesley Franklin.”