The bed moves as Luke rolls over onto his back, mimicking my pose with one arm under his head, and he sighs serenely. “It’s so peaceful up here,” he muses.
I only have the strength to grunt in affirmation as I lose the battle to keep my eyes open. I listen to the sound of the nearby lakeshore, the water lapping up along the pebbly beach, and aside from the wind and the occasional birdsong, there’s hardly any other noise. The sun beating down on the tent makes it warm and cozy, and the longer I lie here, the more relaxed I feel. I get the strangest sensation that my body is floating as I drift in and out of consciousness.
Chapter Fifteen
Dreams VS Reality
There’sahandonmy face, long fingers brushing over my cheek and jaw in a tender caress. I must be dreaming. It’s the only logical explanation. The way they scrape through my beard is so sweet and intimate, and the warmth of the touch sends little tingles down my spine.
Something in the back of my mind says I should be surprised by this, but in my dazed state, I can’t quite tell why when it feels so lovely. The temptation to open my eyes is there, but I’m afraid the dream will disappear if I do, and I want to savor this feeling a while longer. I’m content lying here while it continues.
But then a car door closing nearby snaps me out of the daze, and I startle awake. I whip my head up with confusion, feeling like I’m on a different planet. Immediately, I can tell I overslept. There’s nothing as uncomfortable as a too-long nap while it’s still broad daylight outside. My head feels spinny, my whole body slightly off, and I’m nauseous.
It’s difficult to focus on anything while my brain tries to catch up to the fact that I’m awake, but that pleasant dream comes rushing back, and I unconsciously bring my hand to my cheek,feeling the phantom tingling of a missing touch. It seemed soreal, but now that I’m conscious, I know how impossible that would have been. Unless…
My eyes fall on Luke lying beside me with uncertainty.
He’s fast asleep. Of course, he is. How silly to even consider that he might have gently caressed my face while I slept. Why would he?
But then I freeze when I finally notice how close we are. Not just close, but practically face-to-face. He’s curled against my side, his head on my arm like a pillow, and our bodies are touching in more than a few places, of which I am suddenly hyperaware.
My breath hitches, my brain short-circuiting with the realization that we’recuddlingright now. One-hundred-percent up in each other’s business, no concern for personal space, and breathing each other's air like it’s natural for us to be this way. Based on how we’re positioned, I must have rolled over at some point, and he must have done the same until we met in the middle of the bed. I want to panic, but I can’t overcome the sudden rush of euphoria that moves through me, making my heart race with giddy joy.
Luke looks so peaceful, his breathing soft and even, yet his cheeks are slightly flushed, and I wonder if he’s warm. I know I suddenly feel hot.
The unexpected proximity allows me to stare at his face, studying every curve and line of his features like a treasure map, his lips the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. They look so soft and supple, and the way they’re slightly parted makes it hard for me to focus on anything else. God, how nice would it be to kiss him right now?
“Ethan?” a voice calls from somewhere outside.
My heart leaps out of my chest. Marcus is here and coming closer to the tent, where he’ll undoubtedly see how Luke andI are lying. Luke startles awake at the call, gasping to see how close he is to me. The two of us make solid eye contact and freeze, mirroring the same look of shock with our faces only inches apart. For a split second that feels like an eternity, we just lay there, staring into each other’s eyes as if we’ve turned into statues. Neither of us makes a move to get up.
My heart’s racing, and I’m sure I’ve stopped breathing. Color creeps up Luke’s cheeks, and the heat on my own matches it in stride. I wonder what it must look like to him. I can’t help it as my eyes search the rest of his face, traveling down to his still-parted lips and then back to those crystal blue eyes, where I spot a flicker of hesitation as he stares back at me. Maybe it’s only my imagination, but I swear there is a flash of hunger in those eyes.
“Ethan, are you here?” Marcus calls again, his voice getting closer.Fuck!
It’s the catalyst we need to break the spell. Luke and I simultaneously jump up, moving to opposite ends of the tent as if the space between us will prove nothing weird just happened.
“Oh, there you are,” Marcus says, coming into view. He pauses and looks between Luke and me with a slight frown, like he can tell he’s missing something but doesn’t know what.
I don’t give him time to contemplate it as I quickly get up and move outside, only sparing a glance back at Luke, who is suddenly messing with his backpack very intently, like he’s looking for something. He’s avoiding my gaze with determination.
“How long have you been here?” Marcus asks, giving me a studious once over, but he keeps his opinion about whatever he sees to himself. It’s a blessing that I don’t have a hard-on.
“Since a little after one,” I say, rubbing a hand over my face. I look down at my watch only to balk at the time. It’s nearly four-thirty, meaning we took a two-hour nap. No wonder I feel so loopy…among other things.
“Damn. We would have been here sooner, but we got a flat just outside Grayling and had to unpack all of our shit to find the spare tire and then repack it again.”
“That sounds awful.” I grimace.
“You’re telling me.” Tiff scoffs, walking over from their campsite. “I had that shit packed like Tetris the first time around. Hi, sweetie,” she says, smiling warmly as she hugs me, kissing my cheek.
Tiff’s taller than Marcus and almost as tall as me, with a beautifully voluptuous frame and rich brown skin that practically glistens in the sunlight. She’s dressed to the nines in a one-piece bathing suit and a flowy sarong, dripping in gold jewelry on her ears, neck, and wrists like she’s expecting to sit out on the beach in Los Angeles instead of in the middle of nowhere. I’ve always admired her for her style, dressing up like a living work of art meant to be observed everywhere she goes—rustic camping in the woods included. I know Marcus has always viewed her that way. Still does, even after ten years of marriage.
“Hi, Tiff.” I grin. “I like your braids. Are they new?”
“They are,” Tiff preens, lovingly gesturing to the box braids twisted up on her head, wrapped in a silk scarf. “They were my thirtieth birthday present to myself.”
I catch the smile on Marcus’s face as he watches his wife clearly feeling herself, and I can’t help but grin.
