I wake up to the sound of someone knocking furiously on the patio door outside my bedroom. With a yawn, I sit up and stretch, the crawl out of the bed and pad over to the door, sliding open the curtain. Carrie is on the other side, waving at me enthusiastically, as I squint through the blinding morning sun. I crack open the door, and lean against the frame.

“Good morning, Carrie. Can I help you with something?”

Her smiles stays firmly affixed. “We’re heading out for our first group excursion in about an hour. Super sunny day on a boat, so dress accordingly. If you need anything before we go, please let me know!” She keeps smiling with her teeth, and it starts to put me on edge.

“Okay, thanks…” I answer, and start to shut the door.

“Just one more thing,” she starts through gritted teeth.

Oh, no…

“For the time being, I’d prefer if you and Daniel didn’t go sneaking off alone in the middle of the night. I don’t know what you two were doing behind the pool house, and I don’t want to know, frankly. But the cameras lost sight of both of you for twenty minutes, and that’s more than enough for me to get in serious trouble with my bosses should anyone off-set catch you two doing anything… inappropriate. Don’t make me have the same talk with Daniel, because if I have to, it will be on camera.”

I bite my lip, and force my own smile. “Isn’t this on camera too?”

“I’ve told the editors to leave it out. I won’t continue to extend you that courtesy if you can’t extend me the courtesy of respecting our rules. I honestly couldn’t give two flips what you and Daniel do once this show is over, but while you’re here, consider yourself under my roof. And under my roof, you obey my rules. I don’t think that’s a lot to ask, do you?”

I fight back the urge to be bitchy with her, remembering that no one forced me to be here. It’s not Carrie’s fault I ended up in this house with the only man I’ve ever loved, and now we’re finding ourselves inexplicably drawn to each once again. She’s just doing her job, and there is no reason for me to make it harder for her.

“You’re right, Carrie. I’m sorry. It was rude and disrespectful of us to break the rules. I will talk to Daniel about making sure it doesn’t happen again.”

She looks surprised that I didn’t put up more of a fight. “Thank you. Like I said, I see what you two have. I’m not begrudging you your right to explore that. Just… not on my set.”

“What… what we have? What are you talking about?”

Carrie rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on. I’m not a pre-teen. I don’t know what happened between you two last night but I know damn well you weren’t playing tiddlywinks behind the pool house. Your chemistry is what is going to sell this season. But I would just appreciate it if you could try and act like some of the other guys have a chance at the end of the day? If not for my sake, for theirs.”

I nod. “Deal. Now, will you let me get dressed? I don’t want to go out in a nightgown and fuzzy slippers because you kept me here gabbing all morning.”

Carrie laughs, then salutes me before leaving. I can see the guys at the far end of the pool behind her, so I wave quickly, then shut the door and the curtain so no one has a chance to see me in my pajamas. I also don’t want Daniel to get to good of an idea of what Carrie and I were talking about. Not yet. I’ll find a way to talk to him in my own time.

After a quick shower, I grab another bikini in basic black, and a gauzy floral cover-up, along with my favorite sandals. Then I unroll my giant hat, and plop it on top of my head, before sliding on a huge pair of sunglasses. I’m sure Carrie will be irritated at how much I’m hiding from myself the cameras, but I hate being hot, and I’d rather not be exposed to the sun all day. Before I run out the door, I grab my bag, which is loaded with sunscreen, my kindle, and my music, and then begrudgingly leave the room. I don’t exactly expect to have any time to myself, but you never know. They may want a shot of me lounging on the beach and then I can take advantage of the situation a little.

I get out to the living room, and no one is there but Grill. I look around, hoping Carrie or Rose will walk in any second, but it seems I’m not that lucky… or this is a set-up, which seems the more likely of the two scenarios given the environment. Grill clicks his tongue at me.

“Damn, girl. You look good enough to eat.”

I groan. “I’d thank you to neither call me girl, nor refer to me as food. Where is everyone else?”

“Getting ready, which gives you and I some much needed alone time. You don’t have to be so uptight, you know. I just think you’re beautiful, is all. And I want to get to know you better.”

I cross my arms over my chest, mostly to block his view, because he keeps staring at my breasts. “You know, Grill Reynolds, I know exactly who you are. Just because I don’t follow football doesn’t mean I don’t see headlines. You’re that player who was texting pictures of his dick to the entirety of the Colorado cheerleading squad. Did you think I just wouldn’t recognize you?”

Grill chuckles. “Hey, baby. If you’ve got it, flaunt it.”

I make a face like I’ve just tasted something really gross. “You’re disgusting.”

“What’s your number? I’ll text you sometime.”

I’m about to dive across the room and put my hands around his neck when Stuart and Oscar walk in from the kitchen. The tension in the room must be thick, because Stuart walks over and stands next to me protectively.

“What’s going on here, Miss Anya? Is everything okay?”

I make a harrumph sound and walk toward the door. “Nothing that a machete and a shovel wouldn’t fix,” I mumble under my breath. Unfortunately, I hear one of the camera men laugh, so I know he got it on tape. I walk outside, and Rose is waiting by the cars, fiddling with her phone and talking to the driver. I walk up to her and start kicking the tire, which I regret immediately because I’m wearing a sandal but at the same time, the pain is a good channel for my rage. Rose doesn’t even look up from her phone.

“Interaction with Grill?” she asks. I swear a few times, not caring if the cameras are listening, or if they’ll have to bleep me out.

“Why did you even let him on the show after what he did? The text messages? He’s so repulsive. Who gets drunk and does stupid, rude shit like that?”

Rose and the driver both burst out into laughter, and I spin around and look at them. “What? What is so funny?”

“Don’t look at the news much, do you?” the driver says as he gets into the front seat of the van. I turn to Rose.

“What is he talking about?”

She throws a defensive hand up in the air. “Oh, no. I’m not getting in the middle of this. Go talk to your boyfriend.”

What the hell is going on…? I’m not much in the mood for anyone messing with me right now, so I grab Rose’s phone out of her hands, despite her protests, and search Daniel’s name. I know we’re not supposed to connect to the internet, or the outside world in general, for the duration of our stay, and as soon as I see the news stories about Daniel pop up on the search engine, I can guess why. I don’t know who I am more angry at: Daniel for not telling me what he did, or Carrie for not giving me a head’s up about it.

I hand Rose back her phone, and she snatches it from my hand angrily. “I swear to god, if you tell Carrie it was my phone you used, I will smother you in your sleep.”

“I won’t,” I answer with a grumble as the guys start to filter out of the house. When I see Daniel, he smiles at me, and I frown so deeply, his smile disappears immediately. I gesture for him to follow me over to the patch of palm trees behind the van, which he does, slowly. When we get there, I can see one of the cameras pointed at us, so I try to keep my tone as even as possible.

“You didn’t tell me about your little… truth-telling session… before you got here, Daniel. You said some really horrible things. About people I may have to work with in the future.”

His face drops even lower, and he runs his hand through his hair nervously. “There hasn’t been an opportunity to bring it up yet. And I didn’t see how it was relevant to anything we’ve… done, so far. I would have told you, Anya. Just not now. Not in front of the cameras. And honestly, I assumed you probably knew already. Everyone knew.”

“I work all the time. I was in the office right up until the moment I got on the plane. I don’t really have time to keep up with the majority of petty celebrity gossip. The only reason I know about what Grill did is because my business partner was obsessed with finding copies of his dick pics for weeks.”

Daniel raises an eyebrow. “Wait… dick pics? Grill? How do I not know about this?”

“Never mind. But speaking of. Sort of.” I lower my voice the best I can, hoping no one can hear us, but I am sure they can. “Carrie knows. And she would prefer if we limit our alone time together for the time being.”

Daniel takes a nervous step back. “She knows? Knows… what?”

“Enough. I said I’d talk to you about making sure we follow the rules for the rest of the stay. So, on that note, I’m going back to the van.”

I don’t get a chance to get more than a step away before Daniel grabs my arm and pulls me back so I’m just centimeters away from his face. His lips are so close to my ear, I can feel his breath, and I swear I can hear his heart beating.

“There is literally nothing anyone else can say to me that will keep me away from you, Anya. Unless you tell me to stay away, I’m not giving you up again without a fight.”

When he walks away, I feel the loss of him, his absence, more than I want to admit. It’s like he’s broken an invisible cord that is tying us together now -- and I hate it. I take a second to shake off the feeling, then slowly head over to join everyone else at the van. Carrie is there now, with Grill, who is still wearing the same stupid smirk he was when I left him in the living room.

“All right, kids. Everyone in the van. We’re heading for the dock. It’s going to take about thirty minutes to get there, and we’re going to spend six or seven hours on the boat. No contests or challenges. Just hang out, drink, barbecue, get to know each other, and we’ll handle the rest.”

I feel like a co-ed in a slasher movie being led into a trap. There is no way we’re about to have a day of fun and frolic on a glass bottom boat, but as the van makes its way toward the road, I can’t shake a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that something is about to go down. Something… ridiculous.

* * *

We aren’t on the boat an hour before Grill is totally hammered, yelling at everyone, and peeing off the side despite the fact there is actually a small bathroom in the cabin portion. Carrie is trying to get him to slow down, but according to what Stuart whispered to me, she encouraged them to drink, and he took that advice to heart. I sit in the corner of the boat, sipping a daiquiri, my hat pulled down over my forehead as far as it will go, and I just watch everyone’s behavior. Daniel has spent most of his time applying and re-applying sunscreen, panicking that his fair skin is going to burn. Oscar is hovered over the glass-bottom of the boat, watching fish intently and exclaiming every time he sees something interesting. Max and Alex are sitting on the side of the boat, talking and laughing, as the camera crew scrambles around, trying to capture anything interesting, but especially anything that isn’t Grill acting like a total jackass.

I can see on Carrie’s face that she’s pissed that she’s having to babysit Grill now that he’s drunk and acting like a tool, but I don’t really feel sorry for her. She should have known that if she gave him an instruction like that, he was going to go crazy with it. So, I just keep sipping my daiquiri, and watch the chaos until finally, I hear the sound of a speed boat approaching. I lean up over the edge of our vessel, and see Darius climbing up the ladder. Stuart sighs next to me.

“This can’t be good. So much for day of B-roll footage and relaxing,” he says as he finishes off the Scotch on ice in his hand.

Carrie turns to see that Darius has arrived, and she gives Grill a gentle shove down toward a bench, which he tumbles back on to with a drunken giggle. Then she hurries over to Darius and they whisper with each conspiratorially for a few moments before Carrie takes center stage in the middle of the boat.

“Hey, everyone! Can I have your attention? Over here, please!”

Everyone groans and gets up from where they are standing, then walks over to Carrie, who is smiling wickedly.

“As I’m sure you can guess, I fibbed a little earlier.”

“No shit,” Max answers, clearly annoyed.

Carrie rolls her eyes. “All right, already, settle down. We’re to have an impromptu challenge, and the winner of this one will get an advantage in our next major competitive event. So, I’d suggest taking it seriously. Darius is going to tell you more about it. Darius?”

She turns the floor over to him, and I can see the guys getting nervous, except for Grill, who is too drunk to care. The cameras turn on, and Darius switches into host mode.

“Okay, fellas. In this surprise mini-challenge, you’re going to be swimming for your lives, so to speak. You may not have noticed, but attached to the glass on the bottom of the boat are suction cups that have envelopes attached. Inside of each envelope is a number, and that number will be relevant to your next major physical challenge. The faster you swim down and find the highest number, the better off you’ll be in the challenge.”

Daniel raises his hand. “So, you’re telling me we’re all diving in the water at the same time, then fighting each other to see numbers in envelopes under water, then trying to grab the highest number?”

Darius points a finger gun at Daniel. “You got it, mister.”

“Oh, yeah. No potential for danger there.” Everyone turns and looks at Grill, who is already puffing up his chest as if he’s won something. The rest of the guys look automatically deflated.

“Contestants, take your places on the edge of the boat. And on my mark, you’re going to jump in!”

I can already guess that Oscar is going to hang back and wait for the chaos to ease up, because he looks terrified, and has positioned himself as far away from Grill as possible, who is making insane grunting noises to psych himself up. I take a few hesitant steps over to the glass so I can watch what is going on, mostly out of concern that someone is going to get hurt.

“Gentlemen, on my mark. Three… two… one… JUMP!”

I hear the collective splash of six guys going into the water, and then watch nervously for them to appear underneath where I am standing. Carrie is watching the action on monitors as it is filmed by underwater cameras attached to the bottom of the boat. It only takes a moment, but the first to appear in the glass are Grill and Stuart. I see Daniel at the far end of the glass just grab the first envelope he sees and swim away, as Max and Alex follow his lead. Stuart grabs at the envelope closest to my feet, peeks inside, then waves at me with a thumbs up before pulling it from the suction cup. Then, out of nowhere…

Grill descends on him, punches Stuart across the jaw, takes the envelope, and swims away. I scream at the top of my lungs.

“Carrie! Did you see that? DO SOMETHING!”

Carrie holds her hands up in the air as if to say, “what am I supposed to do about it?” I drop down on my hands and knees and knock on the glass to get Stuart’s attention. He is rubbing his jaw, and spinning in circles, looking for Grill. When he doesn’t find him, he grabs the last envelope, and swims away. I jump back to my feed and descend on Carrie in a fury.

“Are you going to let him get away with that? That’s cheating! What is the matter with you? Isn’t there a ‘no violence’ clause in the contracts or something?”

Carrie waves at me to keep my voice down. “I will talk to him. And he will be disqualified, I assure you. Give me a second with Darius.”

She shoos me away, then calls Darius over. I stalk to the edge of the boat so I’m there when the guys climb back up. Daniel is already on the edge of the boat, wiping salt water from his eyes. When he catches sight of me, his eyes go wide.

“You look like you want to murder someone. What the hell happened?”

“Grill Reynolds. That’s what happened.”

I don’t have time to say anything else, because Grill surfaces, a self-satisfied smile on his face as he waves his “number one” card around. He climbs the ladder and grins.

“Look what I got!”

I squeeze the railing, putting all of my focus on that so I don’t do something I regret. When I finally see Stuart come up, I rush over to the ladder and offer him my hand, which he waves away.

“Are you okay? Are you bleeding?”

He shakes the water from his hair and scowls. “It was a sucker punch. He hits like a woman. He’s just lucky that I am a good sport and don’t believe in cheating to win.”

Once all the men are back on board, each holding their respective numbers, the cameras focus back on Darius, who is wearing a somber expression.

“Well, folks. I can safely say this is a first in the history of Wild Love. First, I will announce placement for our next competition based solely on the results of the mini-challenge. Going fifth in our next challenge is Alex. Going fourth? Oscar. Our third place contestant is Daniel. And in second place in Stuart, meaning Grill got the number one card.”

Grill hollers in excitement, but Darius holds up his hand. “However, because Grill used his fists to steal the number one card from Stuart, who rightfully had possession of it in the first place, he has been disqualified from first place position. That means, he will go fifth in our next physical challenge and Stuart will receive the number one position he rightfully earned.”

“That’s bullshit! Bullshit! I’m just a fighter! I’m a better contestant! You all know it! I just fight for what’s mine! For what I want!” Grill keeps shouting and swearing and for a second, everyone just stands there, dumbfounded. Then, out of nowhere, Oscar rolls his eyes.

“Oh, shut up, you drunken lout.”

Then, with one hand on Grill’s enormous chest, he shoves him over the edge of the boat, and Grill goes tumbling head over heels back into the water. For a second, no one moves. Then everyone, including Darius, Carrie, and the crew, burst out into laughter. It was exactly the moment of relief everyone needed, and a reminder that Grill may fight dirty, but he’s still just a guy, like the rest of them.

And for a second, I’m incredibly grateful that five out of six of the guys here are not the assholes I expected them to be.