Page 25 of Wild for the Knight

When I meet her eyes, they’re wide and wild. It’s then that I remember I’m almost naked, and I just grunted like a sex-crazed animal. “Shoot, sorry,” I say as I put the cup down on the counter, my tongue darting out to clean the remnants off my lips. “This is really good, thank you.” She just nods as she slowly backs out of the room. I run my hand down my face when the door shuts behind her. Way to make a fool of yourself there, mate.

When I’m done, I grab the towel off the hook and wrap it around my waist. Steam clings to the shower door, inviting me to draw some obscene thing for Abby to discover later when she’s in here. I lower my foot to the bath mat, and the second my foot touches it, I realize there’s something very wrong here. What was plush and comforting when I got in is now scaly. And slimy. And slithering. The scream that comes out of me would put a pre-teen at a T-Swift concert to shame.

Throwing myself back through the open shower door, my brain short circuits as I look for something–anything really–to trap the damn thing. I’d kill it, but then Hannah would kill me, so that’s out. As if things couldn’t get any worse, both bathroom doors slam open almost simultaneously. Greyson barreling in from one side, Abby from the other.

“What happened?” Greyson rushes in as he looks over me like he expects to find a severed limb. Abby, on the other hand, her jaw is on the floor as she takes me in. I don’t even know if she realizes my brother is here. If he wasn’t, and there wasn’t a snake in here, I’m sure it’d feel real nice to be on the receiving end of her undivided attention.

The slithery nope-rope picks that moment to move between my brother and me. The fool literally jumps into my arms, knocking my towel to the floor. Thus giving Abby the perfect view of my nicely sculpted peach. Her eyes drop, and her entire face brightens as she tries to conceal her growing smile. I can feel her committing this to memory. I’m never going to live this down.

“Abby, get it!” I shriek, my dignity hanging on by the tiniest thread as I hop from foot to foot, still holding my gargantuan brother.

“Get off me, you weirdo,” I shout, dropping him onto the floor, directly on top of the snake.

Greyson’s scream is somehow worse than mine. “IT’S TOUCHING MY BUTT!” he screeches while I frantically grab my towel and wrap it back around my waist.

Hannah and Reed pick that exact moment to rush in to see what the commotion is. “What the heck is happening here?” Hannah says as she takes in the absolute chaos that is her fiancè on the floor, me still dripping wet, and Abby doubled over against the sink, wheezing with laughter.

“What’s touching your butt?” Reed adds, looking both confused and horrified. A snort comes out of Abby, her shoulders shaking. She brings her head up to answer Reed, the woman has tears streaming down her face.

“Snakeageddon,” she finally chokes out.

The look of twin confusion on their faces has me smiling, internally, of course, while Greyson is still on the floor. The snake slithers out from under him and toward the little audience who have so nicely come to check on us.

Reed goes pale; my brother scrambles backward into my legs. But Hannah? Her eyes narrow as she glances between Abby and the snake. Then, she bends down and picks it up. My brother and I gasped in unison. Her head shakes as she flips it over. “You morons,” she says, flicking the tiny power switch. The snake's movements stop instantly.

Then, she flings it at my chest. I react like I imagine someone would if a live grenade were thrown their way. My hands fly out to the sides as I step further into the shower. No way, Jose. Fake or not, I don’t do snakes.

It takes a second for my brain to finally catch up, but when it does, my gaze snaps to Abby, who has finally caught her breath. Her bottom lip pulls between her teeth, as her eyes follow the water droplets still rolling down my body.

This was her, I’m sure of it. Her eyes meet mine, shining in victory, and she shrugs one shoulder innocently. “This was you?” I sputter.

Her hand lands on my shoulder, a soft giggle escapes her lips. “My brain needed to keep itself entertained somehow,” she whispers with a wink.

She steps back and is soon flanked by Monroe, matching grins on their faces as they bump knuckles. He then holds up a remote control and wiggles it. Oh, she wants to play? Bring it on.

Chapter 12 - Abby

Today is the day, and by the day I mean the stupid Sasquatch Expedition. While Snakeageddon was a good time this morning, I didn’t anticipate seeing Tatum partially naked, then fully naked when his brother knocked his towel off. I should thank Greyson for that, though; Baby Wilder’s backside is glorious. I haven’t been able to get the image out of my head, not that I’ve actually tried.

Monroe paid one of the local high school kids to dress up as the Sasquatch because we’d notice if someone from our group was missing. Then he looped our tour guide into the ruse. She may have laughed for a couple of minutes, but she’s committed to the skit, too. He really did think of everything.

The only ones that are privy to this knowledge are the three of us. Which, judging by the reaction from this morning, it’s going to be good. They have their guards down, one prank this morning, and they’ve all but forgotten we’re at war. “Okay, guys and girls. Today’s hike is a special one,” Kerry, our tour guide, says as she claps her hands in front of her. “We’re going to be on the lookout for a species native to the area. The Sasquatch.”

Immediately, everyone turns and looks at Monroe, who’s sporting a smile so wide that it looks like it’s been painted on. “What? It’s Sasquatches!” His hands go flying through the air, “When will we ever get this opportunity again?!” When no one says anything, he continues. “Sorry for the interruption, Kerry. Please continue.” He sends a sugary smile to the older lady, who returns one just as kind. It takes everything in me not to start laughing, but the second I show any ounce of emotion, someone will catch it, and I’ll ruin his plans.

We begin our walk into the wooded area of the mountain, as Kerry tells us random facts about ‘Bigfoot,’ also known as ‘The Sasquatch.’ “Bigfoot got its name due to the twenty-four-inch footprints that were first discovered in 1811 by British explorer David Thompson. The modern Bigfoot legend, however, didn't start until 1958. Footprints can be used as a calling card. They’re useful to hunters of both human and animal nature.” The sticks crack under our feet as we walk, the fresh air crisp in the midday sun. The smell of nature, like the grass right after it rains, permeates the air. It’s grounding, to be here is like a balm to the chaos that’s been swirling through me.

“Does anyone know the height range Bigfoot is rumored to be?” Kerry asks as she stops next to a post that has a few wooden flags on top.

Zeke speaks up. “I’m guessing, however tall that post is.” A few of the guys chuckle, Tatum looks to the side and smiles down at me while the rest of the group is tuned into what she’s saying. I try my hardest not to get lost in his eyes, but it’s difficult with the way the blue perfectly matches the hue of the clear sky.

They’re hypnotizing, the second mine meet his, the world around me stops. There’s only us, no texts, no creepy men, no trying to convince myself I still hate this guy. It’s overwhelming, and I need an escape. One that I don’t think he’ll give me.

By the time we reach our lunch spot, there’s already a blanket spread out and food waiting on a few picnic tables. I quickly sit between Hannah and Wilson, taking the much-needed distraction and distance. These two aren’t going to push me into uncomfortable conversations. Wilson, our resident teddy bear, is all quiet observation and level-headedness except when there’s bacon involved, apparently. That betrayal still stings.

“Was this your idea?” Hannah leans over and whispers in my ear. My responding scoff has her shaking her head. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. It’s very Monroe-y.” I take a bite of my sandwich and turn to look at her. She’s relaxed, her long red hair pulled up in a ballerina bun on the top of her head. Her hot pink sports bra makes her look more tan than she is. She only has mascara on today; it works for her, accentuating her natural beauty.

I reach for my water bottle and take a sip before asking, “Are you mad?”