Page 38 of Never Will I Ever

It’s not quite a white flag, but I have a feeling it’s the closest I’ll be getting.

I grab the strap and haul it over my shoulder, praying to heaven and hell that I don’t manage to screw this up. There’s no doubt he’d use it as even more ammunition against me.

He’s still staring at me like he wants to say something else but is holding his tongue, and it only creates another wave of frustration.

“What? What’s the problem now?”

“Just…make sure it’s staked into the ground,” he mutters before glancing away. “The last thing we need is to be blown off a mountain in the middle of the night.”

Oh, if he only fucking knew…

Despite me setting up the tent impeccably—and with no help—Kaleb doesn’t say more than a word or two to me afterward. Even once everyone has a quick sandwich for lunch and we split them into groups for the afternoon activities, he barely acknowledges me. Or the stellar job I did on our abode for the evening.

Kaleb’s group of boys are the ones who want to go on an additional hike higher up the mountain, leaving anyone who’d rather stay behind with me to fish at the stream nearby.

Let the record state, despite my love for being out on the water, I’m a sailor, not a fisherman. I don’t bait hooks with worms, I don’t gut a fresh catch, and the only fish I’m remotely interested in eating comes wrapped in rice and seaweed.

But…this was the better option than possibly getting lost on a mountain top.

The group that stays with me doesn’t require much instruction or help, so it’s a relatively easy job. Pretty sure the only real danger is one of them scraping a knee by falling in the stream. Or maybe catching something other than fish on their hooks.

Thankfully, it’s rather uneventful on our side of things until Kaleb’s group returns from their hiking excursion, ready to cook up dinner.

“Everything went fine down here?”

“Yes,” I say curtly. “I’m not as helpless or incompetent as you make me out to be.”

There’s movement out of my peripheral, and I turn just enough to catch him nodding. If he has anything else to say or ask, he chooses to keep it to himself and calls for the kids to come grab the food instead.

Then he’s off again, adding physical distance to the already gaping chasm metaphorically between us. Though I have to admit, the less I’m within five feet of the guy, the better. Anything less than that, and I catch the scent of his musky body wash or accidentally brush a shoulder with him, bringing me right back to us against that tree.

The taste of his lips, the feel of his body.

And I hate myself for longing for it all over again.

I knew this would happen. That all the self-loathing and disgust I managed to ignore while my lips were locked with hiswould roar to the surface with a vengeance. That the demons would slither through my thoughts like a viper, poisoning anything in its path.

The only time it wavers is when I can focus my mind elsewhere; usually on the kids.

I never thought I’d say it, but they make a great buffer, keeping both of us occupied enough in separate capacities. Allows us to be busy and distracted from the tension between us—and keeping the vicious thoughts in my head at bay—not to mention giving us an excuse to not interact with each other the way we’d have to if we were alone.

As the evening comes to a close, long after dinner and spooky stories are shared around the campfire, the kids start readying themselves to pack it in for the night. Kaleb and I split the evening duties—his idea to spend less time around me, no doubt—making one of us order them to their tents, the other handling the cleanup and extinguishing the fire. And to no surprise, he puts me on lights-out duty.

I can just hear his reasoning too.

I was worried Avery was incapable of putting the fire out and would burn the forest down. Or worse, tying the food up too close to camp and attracting a bear.

Like it’s my fault I didn’t grow up with a father who took me to do this kinda outdoorsy bullshit.

At least the kids make it easy for me to get them in for the night, allowing me to slip inside the tent and get ready for bed before Kaleb is done cleaning up. Dread fills my stomach while I wait for him to turn in, though, wondering if the suffocating silence between us will kill me in my sleep tonight or if it’ll be him smothering me with a pillow instead.

Rustling outside the tent alerts me of his presence less than ten minutes later, followed by a long sigh as he crawls through the opening. My pulse thrums with anxiety when he zips us in a far-too-small bubble for the evening, and I swear, it only takes two seconds for the walls to start closing in around us.

You can do this. It’s one night. Just go to sleep.

I know the feat will likely be impossible, though.

With every movement he makes, his musky scent overwhelms me. Grows stronger as he slides into his sleeping bag beside mine, the space between us now miniscule. My body vibrates and crackles with tension from his proximity, snapping across the space like an electric current. And apart from the occasional sound of swishing fabric, he drowns me with silence.

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