Page 1 of Surviving Love
Chapter One
I’m fine. Just breathe slowly. I’m not going to die.
I hadn’t needed my inhaler in over a year, but the second I got off the plane in Cagayan, my lungs seemed to seize from stress. The sweltering heat didn’t help any, but as sweat trickled down my back, I reassured myself that there was no physical reason I couldn’t continue my journey of self-discovery. I’d cleared an embarrassingly thorough examination and was now officially a contestant on the hit showDevious Island.
Wiping perspiration from my face, I warily eyed the other twenty contestants as we climbed aboard the ninety-foot open-deck Brigantine rigthe show used to transport us to Langit Island. The group of us would live on that small dot of sand and trees in the middle of the ocean for the next thirty days.
As I watched the others, it was obvious some of them were going to outshine me easily with their social game. While I loved the show and desperately wanted to be here, I was on the quieter side. This was a game where schmoozing people came in handy, and since I wasn’t great at that part, I knew it would be best if I attached myself to someone who was.
I studied the group, trying not to be too obvious. My gaze settled on one blonde twentysomething girl named Sherry. Her gaze was warm and open, and she laughed easily. If I became her island BFF, perhaps I’d be able to benefit from the goodwill she’d no doubt drum up. It was worth a shot, at least.
With that objective in mind, I decided I’d sit next to her. I’d try to chat her up a bit and see if we clicked. I took a step toward her, but a tall, muscular guy whose name I didn’t know bumped into me, knocking me back on my heels. Before I could recover my balance, he slid into the seat next to her. He gave me an unapologetic glance and turned his back on me. He whispered something to her, and she flicked her gaze toward me while giving a little a giggle.
“Jerk,” I muttered under my breath.
Irritation prickled the back of my neck, and I scanned the area for another empty seat. There was only one left next to a man who looked to be in his late sixties. With his big belly and bushy beard, he reminded me of Santa, although he didn’t look particularly merry. His serious demeanor changed when I squeezed in beside him, and he smiled as we shook hands.
“I’m Harold.” His fluffy beard whipped in the salty sea breeze.
“Mason.”
“Any idea how they plan on splitting up the group?” Harold asked.
I shook my head. “Nope.” Sometimes, the show would break groups into young versus old, women versus men, or beauty versus brawn. But this group seemed very diverse, so I had no idea if or how they’d divide us.
“Oh, they’ll have something up their sleeves. They always do.”
I nodded. “No doubt.”
“I’m from Montana,” Harold announced, arching one fuzzy brow inquisitively.
“Los Angeles.” I smiled politely.
“Yeah, I pegged you as a city boy.” He chuckled, eyeing my jeans and black fitted shirt.
“You did?” I frowned. “Why?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. You just have that look.”
“I suppose I do.” I decided there was no point in not embracing who I was. He was right; I was a city boy. But I wasn’t a wimp. I probably wouldn’t win most of the physical challenges that would be thrown at us, but I’d try and hold my own. I wasn’t an athlete by any stretch, but I could be athletic-ishwhen needed. “The nice thing about this show is anyone can win. You don’t have to be a muscle-bound he-man to claim the prize.” I glanced scornfully toward the guy who’d taken my seat next to Sherry.
“True enough.” Harold leaned back, clasping his meaty hands on his round belly. “Which is why I’m a shoo-in.”
I laughed. “And here I planned on winning.”
He smirked. “You’ll have to be better at playing the game than you are at grabbing a seat.”
My face warmed, and I sent another surly glance toward the guy who’d taken my intended spot next to Sherry. “Do you know anything about that guy?”
Harold squinted and followed my gaze. “I believe his name is Jack. Runs some kind of survival or river rafting business.”
I nodded approvingly. “Excellent. His type is always the first to wuss out on all of these shows. They come in with overconfidence, and then reality kicks their ass.”
Grinning, Harold said, “I hope you’re right. He’ll be a bitch to win against in the challenges.”
“Pfft. He’ll be gone by the first week. Mark my words.”
“I don’t know.” Harold seemed unconvinced.
