Taking the Heat (22 page)

‘Yes, we will. How much do you think we can get done in five minutes?' I asked.

Chris snorted. ‘Babe, I'm so strung out right now, I could do you twice in five minutes, and still have a minute left over for cuddling.'

I dissolved into giggles. ‘I'm feeling the same. Oh god, I can't wait until this is all over.'

Chris' face was torn. ‘I don't know how I feel. I worry that when we leave this place, you'll try to disappear on me.'

‘You'd find me,' I answered. ‘Or I'd find you. I know where you work, after all.'

‘Work, god, I haven't even thought about it since we landed. I hope it's holding up alright without me there.'

‘Baby, I bet you make a mean latte, but I'm pretty sure they'll cope okay.'

‘Yeah …' he trailed off. ‘I should tell you something. I—'

‘Guys? That's time. Chris, you have to go meet your date, and Tara, yours is on the way.' Greg spoke up from behind the lens and we groaned.

‘Fine. Hey, tell me later, okay?'

‘I will. Try and enjoy your date.' He rose and I walked him to the door.

‘Do you really want me to try and have fun with another man?'

‘Yes. No. I don't know. I just know that I love you.' He smiled at me, his sapphire eyes relaxed and content.

‘I love you too, coffee boy.'

***

A few minutes later, Callum knocked on my door and I felt my mood lift; I like the Irish bruiser, despite that fact that he's caught in a horrible triangle with Megs.

‘This place has some bonny hills,' he said. ‘Would you care to take a walk with me?'

‘Yes, I would.'

We ambled up the cliff sides around the beach, following sandy trails up and down, with Greg panting and trailing behind, trying to keep us in focus. The sea air felt delicious on my skin, and the morning sun warmed my bones. Callum and I discussed rugby and airsickness and a dozen or so light topics, steering clear of anything too personal.

As the path snaked inland, the hills grew steeper and my legs burned happily from the exercise. ‘It's nice to walk. I mean, honestly, how often do you just wander? I'm always running for trains, or jogging to burn calories, but to just walk somewhere for the sake of it? Hardly ever.'

‘Walking has always been a part of my life,' said Callum, his bright copper hair shining in the sun. ‘I left home at fourteen, with only the clothes on my back. I hitched and walked my way across Ireland, doing odd jobs and moving on when I got bored.'

‘That sounds quite lonely.'

‘It was at first, but then the ladies of the Emerald Isle discovered how good I am in bed.' He winked at me, grinning. ‘After that, I could always find a place to lay my head at night.'

‘That still sounds lonely,' I ribbed him, light-heartedly. ‘So, what are you doing for work now?'

‘I'm an entrepreneur. I've been crowd-funding business ventures for the last few years, trying to support other young start-ups too. I'm not gonna lie, I had a pretty rough start to life, fell into drugs, arsed up more times than I can count. But I'm clean now and I'm out to make something of myself.' He lifted his chin, determined. ‘I've got the ideas; all I need is the cash.'

‘Will a million bucks help?'

‘Bloody oath, it will!' His eyes rolled to the heavens, already lost in the thought of all the possibilities money could buy.

We arrived at the top of our climb, the world laid out below us. More than ever, the island seemed unreal, so perfect and pretty that it took my breath away. Callum pulled two cold beers from his backpack, uncapping them with the corner of his cream-coloured shirt and handing me one. We clacked them together in cheers before taking long pulls.

‘Are you feeling okay after yesterday? Meghan told me what happened.' His fingers tightened on his bottle. ‘I'd like to smash that bastard's big stupid teeth in.'

‘Get in line. Yeah, I'm all good, thanks. Thank god for the girls; Meghan was a beast, by the way. Don't ever cross her, mate—I'd fear for your nads.'

He chortled. ‘That's me girl.' Eying me slyly, he asked, ‘Any advice for a lovesick lad?'

‘Yeah. Be honest and don't pressure her.'

‘I don't know what she sees in that Kiwi.'

‘It doesn't matter; that's between her and Nik. Just focus on your relationship, okay?'

‘I hear ya.' We downed the rest of our beer, then Callum said, ‘Are you ready to head down?'

He waved towards a flying fox behind us, harnesses and gloves ready and the wire streaking down the hillside into the jungle. It was the longest zip line I'd ever seen and my heart began to boogie excitedly.

‘Oh wow! Hell yeah!'

Two minutes later, we swung suspended from the wire, GoPros rolling atop our helmets.

‘I'll be right behind you,' Callum reassured me, but I didn't need it.

‘Thanks, see you down there!' I released my grip on the wire and sailed down the hill, giggling happily as I picked up speed. With the island whizzing by and the wind sucking my worries away, I shrieked to the sky, letting everything go for a few moments.

***

Callum walked me home, and I treated myself to a BLT wrap, a bath and a long nap. Mama roused me for the next round of reveals. ‘Come on, darlin'. Mama needs to get to work now.'

Back in the makeup chair, my blonde strands were wound into a tight bun. Tonight's outfit was laid out on the bed, white skinny jeans and an aqua swing top, sheer with shiny beading over the boobs. Matching aqua wedges gave me height without stealing my balance and I strode out confidently on the wooden walkway, ready to take on the night.

In the bungalow, I was greeted by my friends, everyone concerned for me after yesterday. Multiple death threats were issued for Dante, who slunk in late and eyed me darkly from the back corner, but flanked by Chris and Clara, I felt invincible.

We hoed into dinner, feasting on whole lobsters and creamy sauce, bantering happily between our tables. Megs and Callum were laughing at something Lars said, while Toshi and Beau intensely discussed something, their brows low and serious. Henry was on his feet, demonstrating a waltz step to Jen as she clapped at his efforts. Clara entertained Nik and the threesome with a raucous tale of the time she broke in backstage at a Miley Cyrus concert and Chris only had eyes for me, listening avidly as I described one of my most trying hotel shifts, where I had to round up a team of drunken naked footballers and send them back to their rooms.

Looking around the room, I realised that we have all become a family. A weird, incestuous family, maybe, but I love these people. We are all connected by this bizarre experience and our relationships will continue long after the cameras stop rolling.

When Miles cleared his throat, boos echoed around the room and someone threw a shoe at him.

‘Now, now, Clara! That's not very nice!'

‘The other one is on its fucking way,' she warned.

‘Goodness! Contestants, I'm feeling quite hurt! After all, the secrets I bring tonight might be just what you need to hear.'

Chris huffed. ‘I doubt it, mate.'

‘Well, let's just see, shall we?' Miles straightened his yellow bowtie, growing more confident as the screen behind him glowed to life. ‘We all know Meghan has a very hard choice before her; after all, who could decide between two such worthy princes?'

Megs stiffened, while Nik and Callum on either side of her shot each other nervous glances.

‘One of you hasn't been honest. Have you … Callum?' The TV flashed up a mug-shot photo of a very young Callum, his face blackened and angry. ‘You were arrested at fifteen, were you not?'

Meghan spoke up, her voice clear and proud. ‘Do you think I'd care about Callum being arrested? Look at him! He was a kid. We all make mistakes.'

‘Don't speak too soon, my lass. You might be interested in the date of his arrest. It was the seventh of February, 2004. Ring any bells?'

‘The night my house burned down.' Megs spoke immediately, as if the date was branded on her memory.

‘Meghan, I can explain,' Callum tried to explain desperately. ‘I was homeless and hungry and off my face, love. I recognised our old street, and I lost it. I meant to burn down my old place, not yours.'

‘My pa nearly died that night,' she whispered, horrified. ‘My arm was burned, my sister lost half her hair.'

‘I'm so sorry, love—'

‘Everything we owned went up in smoke. We lost it all. We had to move away and my parents never recovered.'

‘I'm sorry.'

‘Why didn't you tell me?'

Callum's eyes were tragic. ‘Because I thought you'd hate me.'

‘You were right,' she said, standing. ‘Get out of my sight.'

‘Meghan, please—'

‘Goodbye, Callum.'

She stared him down, and he rose, his shoulders slumped, tears rolling freely down his ruddy cheeks. As he reached the stairs, he turned and spoke her words back to her, ‘We all make mistakes, love.' Then he was gone.

The room was silent, the kind of post-event quiet you experience when the music gets switched off after the cops pull you over for something. Meghan sat, her face unreadable.

Miles' next revelation about the Jordanian princess actually being broke was lame in comparison. The night ended and we all drifted out of the bungalow. I tried to grab Megs to see if she was okay, but she vanished.

Chris was being held behind for a meeting to discuss his next date plans, so Clara walked me home.

‘I don't fucking believe it! Teenage arson, date rape, royalty and hookers; this place is a fucking psych ward!'

Exhausted, I bade her goodbye, needing my strength for the next challenge. Just as I was about to close my door, Chris came sprinting up. ‘Babe! I wanted to say goodnight!'

A tight happy feeling clutched at my lower belly. ‘Thanks. Do you want to come in?'

‘Sure,' he said enthusiastically. ‘I'll make you a tea.'

We slipped inside, closing the door to the outside world. The two glasses of white wine I'd consumed with my seafood dinner flared inside me, driving my barely suppressed lust for Chris to the surface.

Wickedly, I raised an eyebrow at him. ‘Actually, I'm just about to take a shower. Do you want to watch?'

Chapter 22

So, Chris watched me shower. That's it.

(Male producer, in a slightly strangled voice:
That's it? I mean, don't you want to talk about it?
)

I don't know … you guys don't really want to hear that stuff, do you?

(Yes! Please, it would be really great for our viewers to have a greater insight into your mindset at the time—)

Admit it. You're dying to hear all about it.

(In a purely professional sense, I'm sure we're all curious.)

You're sitting kinda funny. Are you feeling okay?

(Ah … um, yes, it's these pants, you see—)

Oh my god, you guys are so easy to mess with.

So, anyway, I asked him the question while kicking off my wedges. Watching me, Chris said, ‘Babe, you know I can't say no to that offer, but isn't this dangerous?'

‘Why?' I asked, unbuttoning the top of my white pants. Chris' mouth fell open slightly, his lip trembling. ‘We're allowed to hang out, as long as we don't touch.' I slid the fly down, then began to ease the jeans over my hips, my white lacy thong exposed.

Chris couldn't tear his eyes away. ‘I meant dangerous because if you're naked, I don't know if we'll be able to stop ourselves.'

‘I trust you.' My pants crumpled to the floor and I stepped out of them. Sashaying to the bathroom, I glanced back over my shoulder. ‘The offer is there, but it's nothing you haven't seen already. If you want to leave, that's fine too. I'll see you in the morning.'

He moved like a blur, his breath against my neck before I'd even turned my head. ‘Woman, you will be the death of me,' he growled.

My naked thighs began to burn in response to his nearness. It wasn't only the sexual tension between us—even though that was at an excruciating level. I'd fallen asleep the previous night by taking a couple of sleeping pills the island doctor had given me, and most of the day was occupied with activity, but I was afraid if I stopped and let myself think, I'd realise how very close I'd come to having something awful happen to me out there in the jungle with Dante.

Then, during my afternoon nap, nightmares had haunted me. Thrashing in my bed, I'd dreamed I was back in the jungle, Dante right behind me. This time as he smashed me against the tree, my guardian angels didn't show, and Dante's hands crawled all over my skin, violating me. I cried and wailed as his face grew into a demonic mask, dripping and melting, the enormous mouth reaching for me with pointed teeth. I was trapped and alone. Waking up in a cold sweat, I felt dirty all over again.

I needed to do something with Chris that was life-affirming and positive. I wanted to purge Dante from my skin and brain by offering myself to Chris at my most vulnerable.

We entered the bathroom. Chris sat on the bamboo chair in the corner, while I turned the taps on to hot, in an optimistic hope that the steam would cloud the hidden mirror cameras. I'd made peace with being seen naked on TV, but I didn't want to encourage high-definition replays.

Chris leaned back in the chair, his arms behind his head, his crystal blue eyes dark and lidded low. With only the sound of the water rushing, we could have been the only two people in the world.

‘Imagine my hands are your hands,' I said, my voice throaty. ‘When I touch myself, it's you I want.'

He didn't answer. I don't think he could have formed a sentence if he tried.

Staring directly at him, I pulled the pins from my bun and allowed my hair to unwind and dance around my shoulders. The strands tickled my already sensitive neck, and my nipples hardened, ready to join the party.