“search” it.
I’m also still actively avoiding Cruz as much as possible, dreading and dodging any off-chance encounters alone with him where he can tease me about what a perv I am. So I’m sticking to areas where clumps of people are convened. But in doing this, I haven’t had a chance to talk to Jasmine about what Oakley and I walked up on between her and Jensen the other night.
Yeah, I haven’t forgotten. I’m determined to steal a private chat with her sometime today while continuing my Cruz evasion.
Breakfast is unfamiliarly cheerful—a jovial group activity with no misguided accusations or catfights—and that spirit’s much alive as we line up on the sand for today’s mini challenge.
It doesn’t seem to cramp anyone’s good mood that we had a required dress code of bikinis and trunks, either. Truth is, most appear to be taking full advantage and loving it.
I’ve never had body-image issues and don’t now—especially since Oakley’s a mere foot from me, white-knuckled and directing a gaze thick with lust at me. This whole no-more-PDA rule is obviously taking a toll on him already.
Yeah, I’m feeling good about myself, but damn can some of these girls fill out a bikini. If there’s any jumping or bending over required in this event, the crew will be editing all night because Jasmine or Nadia—quite possibly both—will fall out of their tops, guaranteed. Like I said, some are taking full advantage of everything except straight-up baring their assets.
“Ladies and gents, nice to see you again! I trust you’re all feeling good after last night’s elimination?” Tom greets us and asks. The crowd affirms loudly. “Great! Well, let’s keep the momentum rolling with today’s mini challenge, where we’ll continue exploring that trait you all find important, trust, something you must give if you wish to receive it. The ladies did just that, and now, gentlemen, it’s your turn.
“Behind me, you’ll see an island 300 yards away. That’s where the ladies will be waiting. Each guy’s been given an inner tube, and he must swim with it around his waist to retrieve his female partner from the island. Then they must be the first couple back here—with both partners inside the tube.”
The guys start doing all that macho, no-sweat, chest-puffing, ‘I got this’ crap when Tom holds up one finger. “The catch? The men will be blindfolded, their only compass the voice of their partner—blending with six others’.”
Now it’s the women’s turn to gloat and snicker.
“So if we’re ready, let’s get what I’m titling ‘Paddle for—”
“‘Paddle for Pussy,’ hell yeah!” Wyatt interrupts boisterously, and everyone laughs while Tom just shakes his head. Good thing this show isn’t live.
“I was going to say ‘Two,’ Wyatt,” Tom recovers. “‘Paddle for Two.’ All righty then, ladies, please climb in the boat we have waiting.” He points. “It will take you across to the island. And fellas, get your tube on while the crew comes around to attach your blindfolds. And don’t forget—this is a mini challenge, so both winners will receive $5,000 for their individual accounts, as well as today’s luxury item, which is…professional, private massages!”
Please let Oakley and me win this! My mattress here is hard and paper thin, and I adore massages.
“Bon voyage, ladies. See you when you get back!” Tom waves to us as the boat motors away. The last thing I hear from him is, “Men, you’ll go on my whistle.”
Once we disembark, I look back and position myself directly across from Oakley. All he has to do is swim in a straight line.
The whistle blows and the guys all plunge into the water as seven females start screaming. Luckily, I’m on the opposite end of Rachel. You’d swear someone gave that loudmouth a bullhorn.
I cup my hands around my mouth and lean way forward. “Oakley, I’m right across from where you started! Just swim in a straight line! You’re