Owen got up a moment later. He wasn’t subtle at all. He didn't even make any excuses, just got up and left, heading down the beach in the same direction Gary and Clarissa had gone.

"I, uh...I'm going to go use the bathroom," Pat-the-guy said, and bolted to his feet. He practically ran down the beach after them.

There was clearly a team meeting going on down on the beach and I wasn't invited. I guessed they were talking about how I had ruined the challenge for them. Or something. And because I was short and couldn't run through the snow, and I pronounced my words weird, I'd be the first one to go.

I mean, heck, you didn't have to be a genius to see the writing on that wall. But I wasn't at camp alone. I looked over at Patty, my one and only friend here on the Red team.

Patty sat on the edge of the shelter and sighed, dejected.

I tossed a handful of kindling down at the base of the fire pit. "You not going to go with them, Patty?"

"I'm tired. I think I'll just wait for the fire."

Was she being deliberately dense or did she not get it? "I think they're probably having a team meeting."

"Oh?" Her big eyes blinked for a moment, and then she began to sniff. Again.

Ah, hell. I was getting sick of the tears. I got up and sat next to her, then patted her on the shoulder. "Why don't you go join them?"

"I don't think they like me."

"They like you just fine," I told her truthfully. "It's me they don't like. You need to go show them you're with them and not with me."

She gave me a wounded look. "But we're friends. You've been nothing but nice to me, Luna."

"I know. I'm a nice girl." I nudged her with my arm and grinned to take the arrogance out of my words. "But this isn't a game for nice people. This is a game for money, and you've got to play as cutthroat as the rest of them. So go down on that beach and go talk strategy."

She looked uncertain. "What about you?"

"I'm going to stay right here and build a fire." I wagged a finger at her. "Don't you worry about me. I can play my own game."

Reluctantly, she got to her feet, and then she headed down the beach after them. When no one came back after a few minutes, I guessed that Patty had been included after all.

Which was fine. I mean, hell. It didn’t take a psychic to read minds around here. Owen and I didn't get along. Owen was clearly top dog. I was the short, loudmouth Boston girl that kept contradicting the handsome (albeit douchey) leader. They thought I'd fucked up the challenge for them.

If I wasn't the first person voted out of this shitty team, I'd be shocked.

THREE

Peace and quiet, at last. – Owen MacIntosh, Day 4, Endurance Island: Alaska

4 Days Later

"SO, LUNA, WHY DO YOU think you were the first one out of Endurance Island: Alaska?"

I stared at the camera-man in front of me as if that were the dumbest question I'd ever received. Heck, maybe it was. Hadn't he watched the first three days of footage? The tribe had been against me since we'd landed our canoes on the woodsy shore of the Alaskan island.

But maybe this was one of those 'spill your heart' moments and I was supposed to open up and confess all my sins and make some good TV.

Ha.

But since it couldn't hurt anything, I beamed my sweetest smile at the camera. "I can credit my failure in the game to one person, and one person alone: Owen."

The camera shifted. "Can you talk some more about why you think Owen is responsible?"

"I don't think Owen is responsible—I know he is. As soon as we landed on the island in the canoes, he had it out for me. When I suggested we build fire first, he decided we needed shelter. And then, of course, when it rained and we had neither, it was my fault for dividing the tribe." My smile was tight. "I guess because the weather has something to do with me? At any rate, Owen is one of those chest-beating alpha males that thinks that just because he has a penis, he's smarter than any woman, and refuses to listen to common sense. There was no way I was going to win in that scenario. And as soon as I saw the tribe was siding with him? I knew I was out. I figured I might as well enjoy myself while I was there."

And I had.

I'd relaxed on the cold, rocky beach or lounged near the fire (that I built). I went out and foraged for berries and not shared them with anyone. I fished - and while I didn't catch anything, if I had, I wouldn't have shared it. In short, I was no longer playing a team game.

Owen had killed that for me. So, screw him, and screw all of them. This experience was supposed to be fun, but as soon as I'd arrived, I'd been dead in the water.

Endurance Island was supposed to be fun, right? But combine that with snow and all this Christmas bullshit - and Owen to boot - it had been anything but.

Now, heck, I'd been voted out and was currently residing as the first member of the Loser Lodge. And I had to admit, the Loser Lodge was pretty damn sweet. I'd expected a crappy little cabin not much better than the junky shelter I'd left behind on the red team’s beach.

Nope. When the Endurance Island crew relaxed, they relaxed in style. We were staying at a large resort cabin tucked into the woods. It was just me and the film crew, who cycled in and out for their shifts, and the producers.

Since I was the first one out, I got to have an all-expenses paid vacation for the next month while the others fought and froze on the cold, rocky Alaskan beaches. I curled up with my mug of hot cocoa in front of the roaring fire and tried not to feel too smug about where I was.

So I didn't have the million dollars. I had my pride, and if it couldn't pay the bills, well, I was no worse off than I was when I started.

"Who do you think will be the next to go?" The cameraman asked me as I sipped my cocoa. He was filming one of my exit interviews for the ‘Lodge Home Movies’ that they peppered the Endurance Island website with to encourage traffic. People liked to see the contestants relaxing after the fact, he told me. It made the audience feel better that we were happy and well-adjusted after being voted off. Plus, the website spammed the videos with ads, and that made the producers happy. So despite being voted out? I was still on camera.

I considered things. "The next to go? If the red team loses again, I'm guessing it'll be Patty." She was small and cheery, and determined, but she wasn't very strong. And she'd been friendly with me, which was a big strike against her. "I'm guessing Owen's going to go for strength over anything else, if he's in charge of the team. And if he does, he'll end up with a bunch of clueless meatheads at the merge and they'll fall to pieces."

"And what do you think of that?"

I smiled blithely. "I think it's beautiful. And serves him right."

"So you don't want him to get voted out?"

"Not right away! I don't care how far he gets in the game as long as I don't have to spend my lodge time with him. I actually hope he makes the merge so he can be on the jury and I don't have to look at his smug, grinning asshole face for the next month. So, yeah, I'd be happy with Patty showing up next. I liked her." She'd been the only person that had come close to being my friend while I was out there - which meant she'd probably be a target for that, too.

Poor Patty.

"What about the other two teams?" The camera-man asked.

I thought, and shrugged. "I wasn't there long enough to get a good impression of them. Just that the red team was a hot mess, and they'll probably fall apart on themselves...which is exactly what they deserve."

"Bitter much, Luna?" the cameraman laughed.

I pinched my fingers and grinned, indicating that I might be bitter just a little.

I'D HAD THREE DAYS OF peace and quiet all to myself. Three days of cozying up by the fireside with a magazine and a cup of hot chocolate. Three days of doing yoga in the main cabin of the lodge, taking long, hot bubble baths, and blocking out my next horror movie script while I relaxed. I had three relaxing days of snowy hikes in the woods surrounding the lodge, and three days of enjoying all the foods that the show's personal chef created for the crew.

It was heaven.

It was bound to come crashing down, of course.

The night of the next vote off, I had a bowl of ice cream in my hands and paced the lodge, waiting for the next arrival. To be perfectly honest, I liked having the place to myself, but I was ready for someone new to talk to. The crew wasn't really supposed to talk with the contestants, which left me on my own. It wasn’t so bad for a day or two, but going on day three, I was ready for some conversation other than the ones in my head.

Plus, I was curious how badly my terrible tribe was self-destructing.

The car pulled up to the lodge drive and I clutched my bowl to my chest, more excited than I thought. Okay, despite my big talk, I was really interested in what was going on in the game. Was Owen running things with an iron fist? Did everyone hate his guts? Did they lose spectacularly at the challenge? I felt a weird sense of glee at the thought.

Since they hadn't liked me, and they'd ruined my game...I wanted them to suck at their game. I was totally cheering for the red team lose and lose big. And if that made me a little bitter, well then, Luna Collins was totally fine with being bitter about being the first loser of Endurance Island: Alaska. I figured I'd won the right to be a bit of a bitch about it.

I peered out the frosted windows of the lodge. It was chilly outside, a fresh layer of snow on the ground. I wondered how the others were doing with the fact that it was winter in Alaska and they were forced to camp outside. The show wouldn't let them freeze to death, but that didn't mean the circumstances couldn't be totally miserable otherwise.

It was dark outside, but I could make out a red parka.

Yesss, I thought gleefully. Those jerks deserved to lose. I peered at the person, the hood pulled tight over his - or her - face. I couldn't tell who it was, but the person jogging up the steps looked bigger than Patty.

So my friend had made it another round. Good for her. Was it Gary, then? Or Pat-the-guy? I stepped backward a little so I could get a good look at whoever came in.

The door opened and the newest member of the Loser Lodge threw his hood back as one of the camera-crew hovered nearby, filming everything.

I stopped in shock.

There was no mistaking the strong, square jaw despite the fact that it was clenched in anger, or the brilliant amber eyes. There was a fine layer of dirt on Owen's face, but he was unmistakable all the same.

Owen.

They'd voted out motherfucking Owen.

"Ha!" I yelled out, and pointed at his face with my spoon. "Ha!"

He swiped at my spoon as he pushed into the lodge, his bag on his shoulder. "Get that out of my face, Luna," he said in a not-so patient voice. "I'm not in the mood."

Just because I knew it would piss him off, I simply said "Ha!" again, and trotted behind him.

He shook his head and rolled his eyes at my glee, pushing past me and heading to the kitchen of the gorgeous lodge. "Do me a favor and leave me alone."

"Aww, what's the matter with Owen?" I said in a mocking baby voice. I followed him into the kitchen, because how could I resist rubbing a bit of salt in the wound? "How's it feel to get the boot this early, huh? Guess the team didn't like you any more than they liked me."

He ignored my jibes, heading across the lodge and into the enormous, open kitchen. Once in there, he slung his bag to the ground and headed to the industrial-sized refrigerator and opened it, staring in.

I drummed my fingers on my ice cream bowl, delighted by how pissed he was. "Not going to talk about how things went down? Since we both seem to be the first losers?"

He ignored me, grabbing a package of cold cuts and tossing it onto the counter. Next was mustard, then cheese. It was obvious he was making himself a sandwich...just as it was obvious that he was going to ignore me.

I tapped my spoon on my chin, pretending to think and ignoring the fact that his silence was a huge red flag of DO NOT ENGAGE.

I was totally going to engage. This was my moment of glory.

So I didn't let up. "Gosh, Owen, if you're not volunteering information, I guess I'll just have to figure it out on my own, then. Let me think. You seemed to think Clarissa was pretty hot when we were there, but I'm guessing she doesn't fall for the Neanderthal type." I studied his impassive face a moment longer, and then guessed, "You hit on her, and she took it so badly that the others voted you out to spare her from your passive aggressive terrible flirting? No? Is that not it?"

He shot me a seething look, tossing more stuff onto the counter.

"Maybe it wasn't Clarissa after all? Maybe you were caught groping the wrong person in the group shelter? Actually, it wasn't really a shelter, was it? Because when I left, it still didn't have a roof--"

Owen tossed the loaf of bread on the counter and placed his big, dirty hands on the flat surface. He leaned in and glared at me. "Are you going to sit here and yap at me the entire time that I'm here, Boston?"

"I just might. I mean, seeing as how I'm the queen of this place." I waved my spoon at our surroundings. "First Lady of the Loser Lodge. I think that gives me the right to yap as much as I want to. Are you not going to talk to me?"