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I happen to glance over at Alex to find him watching and smiling too. I pull my gaze away.
Happen to look over at him?
Who am I kidding? I can’t seem to control my need to search for him. It’s hard enough at the damn bar to keep from watching the door, despite my daily vow that I won’t. Knowing he’s here, that he could be within inches of me at any given time, will make it a hundred times harder not to look around for him.
I can manage this weekend. I’ve faced many challenges in life, and the first thing I have to do is get set up for tonight.
The tent I borrowed from Jake seems easy enough to assemble, so I don’t bother looking at the setup instructions that are in an infographic on the side of the bag. After several minutes of attempting to put up the tent, I have to.
“Something isn’t right,” I mutter, counting the pieces displayed in the picture.
I could literally wring Jake’s neck when I realize that one of the main supports is missing. It is one of the pieces that helps the tent keep its shape at the bottom. I try my damnedest to get the thing to work, but because of the missing piece of the main structure, it just falls over. I’d have better luck using the thing as a fucking sleeping bag than having any expectation of it working like it should.
“Need some help?”
I pray the man doesn’t hear the deep inhalation I can’t resist taking, nor the slow release of air through my nostrils.
“It’s incomplete,” I mutter, taking a step back from the pile of nylon at my feet.
“Let’s see,” he says, crouching down and fiddling with the thing for a few minutes before coming to the same conclusion. “Yep. It’s missing two parts. Could they possibly be in the rest of your gear?”
“It’s a borrowed tent. There’s no chance it’s in my duffel bag. Thanks for helping though.”
Bishop nods before walking away.
I gather the shitty excuse for a tent, returning it to its bag before heading in Ugly’s direction.
“I can’t stay,” I tell him. “My tent isn’t complete.”
“You have to stay.”
“I literally can’t,” I tell him, pointing down at the tent. “I have nowhere to sleep.”
“There’s no way out of the forest.”
“I can easily take the SUV and bring it back in two days when it’s time for you to leave.”
Ugly shakes his head. “You’ll have to room with someone else.”
“Ok,” I tell him, dropping my stuff right next to his. If the man isn’t willing to let me leave, then we’re about to become best friends.
He chuckles, reading my intent as clear as day.
“Can’t. I brought a one-man tent.”
I look around the campground, specifically toward Stormy and Legacy because Bishop didn’t offer when he tried to help.
“They have one-man tents also,” Ugly says. “He has a two-man tent.”
I follow his gaze, taking a step back as if the man just asked me to dive naked into a frozen lake.
“Not a chance,” I mutter. “I’ll manage.”
I walk away from him, my body liking the idea of being trapped in a tent with Alex. I can’t let my head go there. Any hope I ever had of ending up with the man flew out the window the second he came down the stairs from my apartment after an incredible night and saw Ugly standing at the bar.
Chapter 33
Boomer
I grin at Kincaid as he tells the punchline of his joke, praying no one can tell just how fake it is. I drop my eyes to my bandaged finger when I make eye contact with Alyssa and she frowns at me.
She’s my closest friend. We bonded very quickly after she came to Cerberus, needing to get away from her family in order to heal from her abduction from her college campus. I was sent to watch over her when she was staying at Harley’s house to help take care of his infant daughter. I wanted to tell the woman everything, to make my confessions, knowing she’d hold my secrets as I would’ve done for her, but I don’t want to be the type of person who compares struggles. I’ve always found it more hurtful than helpful when someone speaks of their trials and tribulations and someone tries to ease their grief by telling a story of their own adversities. So I kept my mouth shut, only explaining a little of where I came from and how I was raised. I lied to her, something I never corrected, but have always felt a little guilty about. I spoke of being Mormon and the family I was raised in being advocates of plural marriages, but I never went into detail about any of it.
Tinfoil crinkles around me, those that took longer to eat just now finishing, where I consumed the amazing meal Misty and Em put together before we left quicker than I probably should have. I never knew food cooked over a campfire could taste so good. It beats the hell of the MREs I grew sadly used to from my days in the Marine Corps.
