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17
CARLEIGH
Isleep like a log.
It’s incredible.I’m usually a pretty poor sleeper.Changing that is on my list of self-care goals to accomplish - most of which are unchecked, save for ‘run a marathon’ now - but until I find the magic elixir to sleeping well, I’ve learned to deal with it.More or less, anyway.But not last night – I’m not sure if it’s the twenty-six miles I ran or the fresh air all day or some combination of the two, but I went to bed earlier than everyone else after nearly falling asleep by the fire, and basically collapsed into the sleeping bag Molly lent me.I hadn’t even been bothered by the sounds of the rest of my friends talking by the fire into the night; as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was out.
But this morning, I need to pee.Really badly.And brush my teeth - I skipped it last night, accidentally, and my mouth feels vile.
It’s fairly early still, and it seems like nobody else is awake when I step out of the tent with my toothbrush and contacts case.I trudge down to the bathrooms, use the facilities, and head back when I see a tall, familiar figure just ahead of me on the path.
“Bryson?”I whisper, not wanting to wake anyone up around us.
The figure turns; it is indeed Bryson.“Carleigh!”he says happily.“What are you doing up?”
“Shh,” I say, pointing to the nearest occupied campsite, which is one over from ours.“Don’t want to wake them.”
“They went fishing early this morning already,” Bryson says.“I saw ‘em go.”
“Oh.”I hold up my little overnight case.“Had to use the bathroom, figured I’d brush my teeth and put my contacts in while I was at it.”
“Same.”He points to the toothbrush holder sticking out of his shorts pocket.“Well, I’ve been up for a while, actually.You know me, I’m an early riser.But especially when we’re camping.You start hearing the noises, the birds, and the air’s cold, and yeah.Makes you get up, ya know?”
I nod, step forward, and slip my arms around his waist.“Yeah, I know,” I whisper, rising on my toes to kiss him.
“Mm.”He smiles into the kiss, running his hands along my back.“I’m never going to get used to this.”
“Get used to what?”I ask, touching my lips to his in between each word.
Bryson breaks the kiss and pulls back to look at me.“Kissing you.”His hands rub the sides of my hips, feeling the soft material of my flannel pajama bottoms.“I love the flannel, but I have to say I’m kind of partial to your little doughnut shorts.”
I giggle and lean into him, suddenly grateful for the early wake up.Without it, we wouldn’t have the privacy for this, for him to smile at me so specifically with a cheeky glint in his eye as he slips his hands down and grabs my ass affectionately.“I wonder why.”
“You know why, babe,” Bryson laughs.He ducks his head down to kiss me one more time.“You’re so pretty,” he says against my lips, as softly as I’ve ever heard him speak.“Like this, first thing in the morning, And any time after that.”
I blush and press my face into his chest.“Thanks, Bryson.”I breathe him in again, taking the time to savor the moment.“We should probably get back.”
He takes my hand.It’s the first time he’s held it since I kissed him yesterday, and I’m happy to report it still makes my stomach flip.I try to memorize how it feels; his palm big is warm and rough around mine.As I make a mental note of how small my hand is compared to his, I wonder how other things will fit.
Mind out of the gutter.
“Please tell me you brought coffee,” I say as we walk up to the campsite, hands dropping.
Bryson laughs as he lifts a cooler out of the back of the truck.“Obviously, Carleigh.I don’t have a death wish.”
It’s like Molly wants me to have completely unbridled anxiety today.
Logically, I know it wouldn’t have mattered.Molly could’ve packed me black high-necked one-piece instead and I would still have been nervous to wear a bathing suit in front of Bryson, even now.But because she didn’t, because she instead chose to saddle me with a striped turquoise-and-white bikini, I become extra anxious.
It’s going to be fine, probably.That’s what my rational brain is telling me.Running has toned my body a bit and I’ve lost a little weight since buying the suit to begin with, so it fits pretty great.The color isn’t awful and doesn’t make my pale skin look alien like so many things can.Plus, it has a pretty full-coverage bottom and a decently supportive top with an actual underwire.Really, I have underwear that are a lot worse than this.
The beach we end up going to is a short drive away and is next to a hike that we might do later - not Bryson, since his ankle isn’t completely healed yet - so Bishop’s car is packed with changes of clothes and towels, plus six people.Me, Molly, Sawyer, and Bishop himself squeeze into the backseat, since nobody can fathom making either Bryson or Quinn do it.When we get to the beach, Molly, Sawyer, and I stake out a good spot and begin setting our stuff up.
The guys dump the towels in a pile next to them, peel their shirts off, and immediately make a break for the water.I’m grateful for the cover that my sunglasses provide; I’m not sure I can stop myself from looking at Bryson.We live together and I’m sort of a new-age hippie in many respects, so really, I’ve seen him shirtless before - but it feels different now that I could, theoretically, go run my hands across his chest, now that all of that muscle may be used for my benefit one day soon.
“Animals,” Sawyer scoffs, peeling off the casual dress she’s wearing and laying down on a towel.Molly follows suit, grabbing a magazine, so I have no choice but to fall in line.I take my shorts and tank top off and lay down on my beach towel, propping myself up with my hands so I can watch the guys be lunatics in the water.
“How long have you known them, Sawyer?”Molly asks.
