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“On the packaging there was a photo of a man and woman sleeping all cozy like. I think it’s for couples who don’t mind sleeping practically on top of each other.”
I wouldn’t mind sleeping on top of you, Miles thought. Not if it means I won’t freeze tonight.
“I think the two of us could fit,” Miles said.
“Yeah right,” Beckett said. “It’s not like you’re a petite woman like the chick on the packaging.”
That was true. Miles was six feet tall, and his shoulders weren’t exactly narrow.
“Well…” Miles trailed off. He had to think of a good, rational reason. He wasn’t about to beg.
“Why do you keep bringing this up, anyway?” Beckett asked.
“Is it so weird that I want to share a tent with my best friend?” Miles asked.
“Yes,” Beckett said without missing a beat. “It’s all of a sudden. We haven’t even shared a bed before—”
“That’s because you refuse to share with me,” Miles interrupted. Even after they’d moved out to their own apartments in their second year of uni, they frequently slept over at each other’s places. Every time, one of them slept on the couch.
“I like having my space,” Beckett countered.
“What if you get married? Wouldn’t you share a bed with your spouse?”
“That’ll be different, won’t it?” Beckett replied, his voice a hint colder.
Miles sank down in his seat. “You’re right. Ignore me.”
He felt silly for saying something so obvious. Of course, it’d be different if Beckett was married. He’d curl around his spouse, keeping their back warm, and tangle his legs with theirs. That was the kind of thing Beckett would only do with someone he was in love with—someone who made him forget all about his dislike of skin contact.
But Beckett and Miles were just friends.
“Hey,” Beckett said in a soft voice, leaning forward so he could peer at Miles. “Are you okay?”
Miles realized he was frowning and quickly melted it away. “Yeah, fine. Honestly.” He took a sip of his hot chocolate.
“Are you…afraid of sleeping alone in your tent? Because don’t worry, this area is safe. There are no dangerous animals that’ll come in the night. No dangerous people either. Thousands of people sleep here in tents by themselves, and not a single one has been attacked or murdered.”
“How reassuring.”
“I promise you.”
Miles softened. “I believe you.”
Beckett’s gaze shifted from one of Miles’s eyes to the other. Then, satisfied, he nodded once and leaned back in his chair.
They finished the rest of their hot chocolates in silence. Miles noticed the wind picking up, making thin tree branches thrash around.
Even if Miles admitted to forgetting his sleeping bag right now, Beckett wouldn’t change his mind about sharing a tent. Instead, he’d give Miles his own sleeping bag. Miles would refuse, and Beckett would insist, and they’d argue about who should have it. Beckett would probably shove it in Miles’s arms, then disappear back into his tent while ignoring Miles’s protests. Miles supposed if that happened, he could follow Beckett into his tent to give the sleeping bag back to him, but Beckett might actually get angry if he did that. As Beckett had said, he liked having his own space.
Anyway, then Beckett would spend the night shivering. Because of Miles. Because of Miles’s incompetence. He’d sleep terribly and spend the rest of the trip feeling tired and miserable, and it’d be all Miles’s fault.
There was no way he could let that happen.
After they were done with their drinks, they went to the bathroom to brush their teeth and wash their faces. Back at the campsite, they went to their respective tents.
Once Miles crawled into his tent, he turned on his phone light and got changed, pulling Beckett’s hoodie over the top of his pajama shirt. Then he grabbed the towel he’d taken to the beach earlier today and lay it out on top of the sleeping mat Beckett had given him before realizing there was still sand on it.
Through the unzipped door of his tent, he shook out the beach towel, biting back a sigh. To be fair, he considered using his bathroom towel, but that was still a little damp, and he wanted to save it for future showers.
