CHAPTER ONE ERIK

Day One

T he flashing red sign above the host read APPLAUSE as the director counted down from five with her hand. Right on cue, the studio audience burst into rabid clapping and my pulse quickened once again. How the fuck had I gotten myself involved in this circus? I asked myself, but the cheering crowd drowned my own thoughts. It was probably for the best. Too late to walk away now.

"Welcome back, America. I'm your host, Julie Lee, and this is Bare Naked ." Julie was the typical reality TV host. Big smile, flawlessly made-up face, and a voice as smooth as silk. She used to be a child star but had outgrown her innocent girlish look, going on to pose in swimsuit magazines, and then parlayed her quasi-fame into this hosting gig. She was pretty kick-ass at it, and guys drooled all over her, except me. Julie wasn't my type—all women, really.

I was here because of desperation. Desperate enough to have my naked body on full view of the world once filming began, but I needed the money. I was barely a hundred and forty pounds soaking wet, so if America wanted to see that, good on them. I'd do it because I needed my share of a million bucks in prize money. The winnings were split between The Guide , as the team leader would be known, and the untrained, city slickers who hoped to be picked for the show.

" You can do it, Kuya ," Tess, my twenty-year-old younger sister—my only sibling—had encouraged me. " I know you can. There won't be a person on the show who will eat what you'll eat ," she'd reminded me. " You'll win. I can feel it in my bones ," she'd added.

Kuya was an endearment that younger siblings called their older brothers in our culture. She and I were only sixteen months apart in age and were closer than most siblings. Mom refused to have more kids after our father died ten years previously, and she'd never remarried. She brought us to the States with the help of a wealthy uncle. He was happy to assist us as long as we didn't ask for any financial help once we got here. We kept that promise. Mom managed to raise us by running a small diner she bought with her life savings, but times were lean. The recent economic collapse wiped out any profit Mom made, and after three years of struggling, she lost our only source of income.

Tess was in her final year of college, and I was in dental school. Both of us were buried in student loans and borrowed each month from the government for living expenses. I need to win this . I figured there was no way I'd be picked, but the backstory my sister created for the producers got me accepted on the show. So, here I was, on stage with nine other hopefuls and a total of ten Guides , each one a pure specimen of strength and health except me, waiting for my name to be called to be part of the next season's reality television.

The rules were simple. Each Guide would pick a partner and that was who we had to compete with. We had zero input to the pairings because it was based on last season's standings. The winner of the previous season picked last, the last place guide picked first, and so on, and so on, until we were all matched up.

Each contestant was given a skill-set number based on their individual outdoors experience. Once the contestants had been announced a month prior, we were allowed to practice any skills that we thought would help us compete. I hadn't done a damn thing. I was a second-year dental student. The only thing I practiced was studying. A part of me knew that there wasn't a shot in hell I'd win this show, so I didn't give too much attention to the training aspects of it. I believed miracles happened and I could certainly use one right now.

Each contestant's face filled a giant screen behind the host and just above the seated Guides. Our assessment scores were emblazoned below our images. A score of ten was considered perfect, but even the Guides didn't hold that high of a grade. The average rating for participants was around four and a half. One heavily muscled contestant had a score of seven and had been peacocking around ever since his was posted below his picture. Not surprisingly, my image appeared last and on the bottom row with a score of two. The audience groaned and laughed when my face filled the final box on the screen. I noticed Tess and Mom slide down into their seats in the audience. Thanks for the support, sis.

Duncan, the hottie with the score of seven, was chosen first by the previous year's last-place finisher, an outdoor survival dude who had a vlog and a million followers. He was smoking hot but never had a sensible plan on how to win the two seasons he'd been on. His attitude and insistence on being the star of the show had earned him a huge following of women and gays. Baring his body only helped his popularity—tons of skin and a chiseled physique. Winning attributes for sure, but thus far, he'd been in last place after two seasons with the show.

Five male Guides and five female Guides could pick between an equal number of contestants. We were also a squad of five women and five men. The rules declared that a Guide didn't have to pair themselves with a member of the opposite sex. In fact, women most times preferred being paired with another woman. We'd be naked the entire show, so one could see the reason why.

All eyes were on last year's winner, Drew Montana, former NFL quarterback and overall hunk of the century. Drew and his female partner from last year were bonafide stars after they won. Record-breaking viewership was enjoyed by the network as the season went along. America wanted a love connection and they played it up to the cameras the best they could. Drew's mate won her half million and he donated his to the local children's hospital, in typical Drew Montana style. Must be nice being that rich.

Drew kept a low profile after his injury and retirement, and at only twenty-nine years of age, hosted his own survival television show where he invited other celebrities and took them into the wild for three-night backpacking trips. Other than his celebrity status, little was known of his private life. Plenty of endorsement deals, an all-American image, and model looks kept all eyes on him as we waited for the final pick.

It was Drew and an Olympic downhill skier named Summer Jones who held the last two picks. There was me—with a score of two—and a redhead named Missy, remaining to choose from. Her score was two-point-one. I figured there was no way Summer Jones picked a pretty girl who could dim her shine so I expected to be announced next.

I wasn't. Summer picked Missy and I was left staring across the stage at the single hottest man I'd ever laid eyes on. Oh fuck.