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Drake looks from me, a smile on his lips, to Ugly, the grin immediately slipping away.
“I knew better than to fucking trust you,” Drake snaps in Ugly’s direction. “You said he wanted me to come.”
I scoff because I just can’t help myself.
It’s Ugly’s turn to dart his eyes between the two of us before they settle on Drake.
“The beer tastes funny, asshole,” he growls before walking away.
“Look,” Drake says turning in my direction. “I’ll grab my shit and go back home. He said—”
“It’s fine,” I grumble before walking away from him.
If I stand there, having a conversation with him like any civilized person should be able to manage, I’ll end up focused on his mouth. No good will come of it because just the sight of his lips will make me forget what he’s done. My mind has already tried to convince me that I was mistaken, that I jumped to the wrong conclusion too fast. I’ve always trusted my gut instinct, and I can’t start backpedaling now.
Unlike the trip to Denver the three of us took, I ride in the front passenger seat, my pettiness continuing when I refuse to move my tent from the back seat. Drake doesn’t complain and finds a way to make it work. I hate his adaptability right now.
The drive is silent, and I can tell that it annoys Ugly, but what in the world did he expect? I don’t want to have any level of conversation with Drake, and I sure as hell wouldn’t talk about what he expects in front of someone else. I’m still reeling at the casual way he brought up what he deduced at the bar over a week ago. I’ve decided that Ugly was an unaware participant in the setup, placing all the blame on Drake. It’s one thing to be betrayed by a lover. It’s a whole other ballgame to be betrayed by a man that’s supposed to have your back in life-or-death situations.
Ugly has tried more than once to engage the two of us in casual conversation, but after the first thirty minutes of neither one of us responding, he has also fallen silent, his fingers gripping and re-gripping the steering wheel. I guess it’s good if he’s annoyed. It’s only fair since he created this mess.
“You both need to get your shit together,” Ugly says, his voice calm as if he didn’t just drop a bomb in the middle of the SUV.
The air grows even heavier, and it takes all my strength to keep from turning my head to look at Drake in the back seat.
“I can tell you guys would make a great couple.”
I recall the smile I saw on Ugly’s face that morning at the bar. He wasn’t shocked to see me there, but he wasn’t upset either. I knew my sexuality was questioned more than once when I didn’t jump at the chance to take women home from Jake’s. I know people can’t wrap their heads around a celibate man, and they automatically think they’re hiding how they are if they aren’t promiscuous. As right as their guesses would be about me in particular, that isn’t always the case.
I don’t say a word, and luckily Drake doesn’t either.
However, that doesn’t keep Ugly’s mouth shut.
“No one will care,” my teammate says. “If that’s what’s bothering you. No one will have a problem with it.”
My jaw aches from clenching my back teeth together.
“Maybe I have a problem with it,” I say, my irritation with the entire situation bubbling over.
A long-suffering sigh comes from the back seat, like Drake is still annoyed and has heard the words a thousand times already.
For some reason, it cuts me in a different way, his annoyance.
“And for the sake of conversation no one but you wants to have, how in the world would you know what other people think?”
Ugly swallows, and I can predict his answer before he even opens his mouth.
He shrugs as if it’s no big deal to upturn someone’s life. “I asked around.”
Rage bubbles inside of me, the tips of my ears heating with his words.
I knew people would be gossiping about me. It’s the very last thing I wanted, but I knew it would be completely unavoidable.
Facing it now, I don’t know what’s worse—people talking about me behind my back or if they would’ve said something to my face.
I start to formulate a plan to just disappear, either on one of the hiking trails or taking off in one of the SUVs once we get settled at the camping site.
Unless you really commune with nature, camping can turn pretty boring. It’s a great bonding exercise because people tend to talk more, confess more. As we draw closer, this trip starts to feel exactly like that morning at the bar. I can’t help but think it’s just another setup, and I have a feeling that more than just Drake and Ugly are involved this time.
