CHAPTER FIVE ERIK

Day Four

" D amn, you're huge," I said, admiring Drew as he lifted a stack of firewood, balancing the collection on his forearms, his biceps fully engaged. I didn't mean to say it out loud, but the words left my mouth before I was able to filter them.

"Well, thank you," he replied, raising his eyebrows and glancing at his crotch, before grinning at the camera as well. "Mighty kind of ya to notice," he drawled, again winking at the recorder because he knew the fans would eat that shit up.

When alone in the makeshift camp he'd built for us, we'd sometimes turn the personal handheld cameras off and he'd coach me on how to play to the audience and think of funny things to talk about. In fact, sometimes we would roleplay a scene we'd then attempt to pass off as unscripted. He'd also pointed out that sharing tender moments or revealing information about sad or difficult experiences in our past was good material to share on screen . "Viewers love an underdog ," he'd said.

"I meant your muscles are huge," I corrected, taking the occasion to ogle him some more. "I've never seen such a strong physique."

"All the better to kick this land's ass," he said, flexing his biceps some more and grinning at the cameras once again.

He was huge where he'd teased as well. I literally couldn't take my eyes off of his dick. His cock hung long and thick with massive balls that bounced under his shaft when he walked. Drew was six foot five, according to his NFL profile, and weighed in at two twenty-five of solid muscle with thighs as thick as tree trunks and a chest as wide as a football field. Giant pecs with lickable nipples separated a smattering of trimmed chest hair that worked its way down his ripped stomach and to the money shot I caught myself gawking at nonstop. Drew was cocky and a bit of an exhibitionist as he strutted and worked himself into positions that flaunted his incredible body. If he was looking for a fan to admire him, then I wanted to be the club president.

I wouldn't tap out of this television show even if I was knocking on death's door or damn near stroking out. I could live alongside this man forever, and if that meant living in a fantasy where he and I could ever be something, count me as delusional. Sign me up. I simply didn't care how much I had to suffer as long as I got to spend my days admiring him. Drew made me think dirty thoughts that rarely occupied my mind. Of course, I'd never voice those thoughts. I didn't possess that kind of personality. I could fantasize but had zero game when it came to real life.

Our attention was caught by the arrival of a helicopter when it passed through the valley and over the river. Loud, thumping whooshes reverberated around us. There were ten teams along the river, and the arrival of a copter signaled only one thing: one of the teams had tapped. There was no reason to see a copter once we had been dropped unless it was a medical emergency or a team giving in.

"Do you think a team tapped?" I asked Drew, using my hand as a visor to watch the mechanical bird land about two miles down the river.

"It's only been two days since we arrived but early tapping does happen," he explained. "Folks get out here and try to sleep naked in these conditions, and reality freaks them out."

"I was freezing last night myself," I admitted.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked. "You can't be shy about pulling body heat from me, Erik. I'm twice your size so of course you got cold before I did."

"So, I can lie close to you?"

"You can fucking lie on me if you want," he said. "No shame if we spoon out here, even on camera, so lose that hesitation. We won't win if the two of us don't drop all pretense or fears about what the fans will think. This is fucking survival, buddy."

"You're not concerned about your image?" I asked.

"Why would I?"

"I'm gay," I admitted, holding my breath for his reaction. I never wanted to hide that part of me. It was who I was.

"So?" Drew asked, raising an eyebrow, smiling toward the cameras.

"It doesn't bother you?"

"I don't give a fuck if you're into hamsters," he declared, turning toward the camera for another impact shot. "You hear me, America? This is Drew Montana telling you that any kind of hate is bullshit. I love that guy over there, so you should too." Then he proceeded to blow a kiss at me.

I pretended to catch it and place the air kiss on my lips with my hand.

Drew came behind me and wrapped me in a bear hug. "That's right, folks. Erik is my buddy, and we are planning on kicking this island's ass."

The copter lifted off from the beach. A gurney was strapped to a landing skid as a medic leaned out the large door and attended to a possibly injured passenger. We recognized the medic from the meet and greet when they'd dumped us off. She had a three-foot-long ponytail, so it had to be her.

"There goes the first losers," he yelled. "One down, and nine teams to go, folks. Stay tuned while Erik and I show you how it's done."

Four days since I met him and day two of living with him. Drew Montana was one crazy man, and I had a big-time crush on him.