Page 72 of Charlie and Her Sweet Escape
“Near the shoreline,” Savannah continued, “you’ll find a wooden box with buoys. You will put your items inside and push the box out to sea, where it will be picked up by a crew member. Choose wisely, though, because being without the wrong item could send you home.”
The call ended, and Bennett dropped the phone onto the sleeping bag. “I’ll give up two items.”
“No. You won’t.”
“You’re already not well, and I’m not letting you give up an item on top of everything else.”
“And I won’t let you give up two.”
We stared at each other, locked in a battle of wills—Bennett so determined to save me, and me determined not to let him do so at his own expense. I’d realized something being out here for so long: Bennett always put himself last. If there was extra food, he insisted I eat it. When the washing water was warm, he wanted me to use it first. He slept on the cold side of the sleeping bag, away from the fire. Even when he whittled our utensils, he gave me the smoother spoon.
Bennett would give until he had nothing left, and I couldn’t allow him to do that. I didn’t know why he was this way, but I was starting to suspect it had everything to do with his dad. That man had thrown a trauma grenade on his family before he’d walked out the door.
“We’re in this together, Ben.” I stepped forward and took his hand. “I’m going to give up my compass because I don’t even go in the woods. You’re the one who’s been setting the traps and hunting.” I sometimes gathered berries and lichen, but I didn’tgo farther than twenty to thirty feet from the coastline, always keeping it or our shelter in my line of sight.
Bennett looked like he wanted to keep arguing, but I squeezed his hand. Alet me do thisgesture.
He moved his jaw from side to side. “I’ll give up the shirt I’ve been wearing to sleep in. I’m warm with both of us in the bag, and I can wear one of my other shirts if I really need to.”
A sudden image of being snuggled against his bare chest every night flashed. Not the worst image I’d ever had. “That works.” Did I sound casual enough?
“Oh good, I’m glad that works for you,” he teased, and I was glad to see him coming out of his serious headspace. He motioned to his stomach and chest with a wink. “Easier access to all of this.”
My face heated. “Remember how we were never going to bring that up again?”
He sucked air through his teeth as he shook his head. “Nope. Don’t recall that. I only remember the specific amount of shading right near my?—”
I covered his mouth with my hand. His eyes twinkled back at me. I loved this side of Bennett, even if it was a slow torture to be reminded of my journal artwork.
His lips brushed my palm, and my blood rushed through my body so quickly, I felt lightheaded. I yanked my hand back, and he turned to his bag with a smirk.
Bennett was a flirt. He teased me all the time. We were supposed to play up our relationship for the cameras. All these things were true, and yet…
Being with Bennettbeforewe came out here was like being wrapped in a warm blanket in front of a blazing fire on a snowy day. Since coming out here? The cozy cabin was engulfed in flames—and as it turned out, I craved the heat.
“Find your compass?” He looked up from his bag, his nightshirt in hand. Man, he was gorgeous. The kind of gorgeous that hurt. Like touching a pan so hot it felt cold. “Charlie?”
I shook my head to focus on the task on hand and not on how much Bennett could muddle my brain if I wasn’t on my guard. “Um, finding it right now.”
We gathered our items and took them out to the shore. We found a box hidden in some bushes, which also must have been hidden during med check. Bennett and I would need to be more observant in the future.
We placed our items inside and sent them out to sea, standing there until the box got smaller and smaller in the distance.
“It’s like an item funeral,” I said.
“You were good to us, shirt and compass.” Bennett pulled his hat off and held it to his heart. “We don’t know if we’ll see you again, but I hope we do, because I really liked that shirt.”
“Fare thee well,” I called after the crate. We looked at each other and started to laugh, to the point where my ribs killed me and I had to cross my legs. “Now I need to pee.”
“I’ll come with you.”
This was new. “Don’t necessarily need an audience.”
He let out a snort laugh. “I won’t watch. Promise.”
“Listening isn’t ideal either,” I muttered, but he followed me anyway, leaving the cameras behind on a rock. Bennett had gone out this morning before I woke up and gathered the cameras we’d abandoned last night. He said the spot we’d been in was treacherous with roots, even in the daylight. At night, it was disastrous, which we’d discovered firsthand.
I went to my bathroom spot, and true to his word, he kept walking until he was several feet away and behind a tree.
