He glances over at me, an ornery glint in his dark chocolate eyes. “You’ll give me a hand?”
I snicker at his dumb joke and shake my head. “Two hands.”
“That’s good,” he replies, leveling me with a heated gaze that makes my nipples pucker. “Because I like both of your hands.”
We chat about nothing and everything for the next forty-five minutes, and I can’t get over how natural it feels. I’ve known Quinn since I was about ten years old, but I don’t really think I’ve sat and openly chatted with him like this. I know things about him, but this feels…different, and I do everything I can not to think too hard about why.
I really need to slip back into annoyed with Quinn mode. It has served me well for many years.
Yawning, I shiver as the cooler night starts to seep through my warm clothes. The fire is still burning but seems to not be producing the heat it was earlier. Or I’m just tired and ready to curl up in my sleeping bag. I didn’t even drink tonight, and maybe that’s the issue. I didn’t have any antifreeze in my system, as my youngest brother would say. But my stomach’s been alittle queasy, so I opted to just chill by the fire without having a drink.
Quinn stands up and extends his hand toward me. My heart starts to pound as I stare at it, wondering what in the hell he’s doing. “Let’s get you to bed.”
My wide eyes meet his humor-filled ones. “Excuse me?”
He nods his head toward Camden, who is slipping into his tent…with Laura.
Apparently, she’s staying, which means if I plan to get any sleep tonight, it won’t be in their tent. No way am I sleeping third wheel in his tent. Or Cade’s for that matter.
I sigh, realizing Cade and Oaklee are heading over toward his tent as well. Apparently, no one is concerned about where I’m crashing tonight, and that pisses me off a little.
I stand up, refusing to take his hand. “Fine, but no funny business.”
He smirks and leans in a bit closer. It’s not too close to catch anyone’s attention, but close enough only I can hear him. “Funny business is my middle name, Charli.” He winks and wraps his hand around mine, leading me to the tent off to the far left.
My lady bits start rejoicing.
I’m in big trouble.
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
Quinn
I zip the tent closed, cutting off the outside world.
It’s cooler in here, only because we’re farther away from the heat source, and my main focus is getting her inside the sleeping bag to get warm. She looks tired, more so than normal. I’m sure she worked a lot of hours today before coming out here. When she arrived, she was her normal, sassy self, but as the hours went on, she became quiet and looked worn out.
But even then, sitting and chatting with her has been the best part of my day. Charli rarely opens up to me. I get it, I’m not her friend, per se. I’m Camden’s confidante. So for her to sit with me for nearly an hour and discuss everything from her day, my work, the latest book she read…well, that means more to me than anything has in a long time. It’s as if an olive branch was extended, and I grabbed on, not wanting to let go.
“Uhhh, we don’t have your stuff,” I state unnecessarily. I can already tell she has realized her belongings and bedding are in her brother’s tent about ten feet away. “I can go get them.” Not that I want to go knock on my buddy’s tent when he’s probably getting laid—or on his way to doing so—but she needs her stuff.
“No, I’ll be fine,” she mutters.
I spin around to my stuff and start rooting through my duffel bag. “Here,” I state, holding up a hoodie sweatshirt.
“I don’t need that. I’ll be fine,” she says, her arms crossed over her chest. “I’ll just sleep in my clothes.”
“Just take the sweatshirt, Charli,” I encourage, tossing the sweatshirt at her and playfully hitting her in the face.
She huffs, trying to hide her smile, as she grabs it before it falls on the floor. “Fine.” She slips off her oversized jacket and tosses it on the floor of the tent, and even though there’s no light except the faint orange glow from the fire, I can still see enough of her.
Charli doesn’t spin around and hide. She removes her tighter, more formfitting sweatshirt and slips on my hoodie. She left on the thin, long-sleeved undershirt she was wearing, giving her an extra layer of warmth. Then, she starts to shimmy, pulling her arms out of the sleeves. I have no clue what she’s doing, but it looks like she’s wrestling with herself beneath the layers.
Suddenly, her hand appears at her waist, and she drops her bra onto the floor. I can’t help but snicker as she shifts to slide her arms back in the armholes. “That was some Houdini shit right there, Charli.”
Everything back in place, she shrugs and crouches down to take off her boots. “I can’t sleep in a bra.” Once her boots are set aside, she removes her jeans too, revealing a pair of black leggings underneath.
