Page 20 of Delirium

He shrugged. “You seemed like you had it handled. And besides, you didn’t sound like you wanted him to know I was in here. Wouldn’t that have ruined your little secret?”

Camp stood, stuffing a hand in a pocket and smiling at me.

“I didn’t mean, um, I didn’t…”

He grabbed my chin and pressed a quick kiss to my lips, effectively silencing me. “Don’t worry, sweet girl. I don’t mind keeping the taste of your lips a secret. For now, anyway.”

With that, he slipped out the door, and out of sight.

I blinked, trying to process exactly what just happened. It was surreal, almost, the funny way dreams had a certain soft quality around the edges that let you know it wasn’t real.

Except when I touched my lips they were swollen, and I knew without a doubt everything that had just happened was very, very real.

I shook my head of any lingering thoughts of Camp, and stepped out into the darkening night of the rainforest. Twilight changed the world we’d been in only a few hours ago, making me feel like I’d stepped straight into another dream. While it wasn’t cold by any means, the temperature had dropped, and all around us the creatures that came alive at night were making their presence known.

Heading to the dining room, I hoped Camp and I would leave enough room between us so it didn’t raise suspicions. Somewhere in the distance a lone monkey called out, and the rainforest fell silent. I paused, waiting, not wanting the monkey to be alone in the night. It seemed like an empty place to be all alone—surrounded by everything, and yet nothing. I waited a breath, then two.

From the opposite side of the river, the answering call of another monkey rang out. I breathed a sigh of relief for an animal I couldn’t even see in the flesh. Funny how we managed to attach such feelings to something we knew so little about. For a brief moment, I wondered if my mind was simply playing tricks on me, repeating an echo from a distance. The rainforest seemed like the kind of place that liked to play games.

I continued on my way to the large, open room behind the cabins. The windows stretched from floor to ceiling, giving an incredible view of the lush scenery from all three sides. The glass was currently pulled down, leaving only the mesh between us and the outside world, welcoming any semblance of a breeze we could.

Inside, James sat awkwardly at one end of the table, arms crossed in front of his chest, looking positively above everything that was taking place. Camp had wisely left several spaces between himself and James, and when I arrived, he merely picked up his head and smiled at me. Even at the large dining table, he looked too tall to fit. When he ran his fingertip lightly over his lips, his gaze meeting mine knowingly, I quickly shut my eyes, willing myself not to blush.

“Scarlett! Come sit down. I’ve saved you a seat next to me.”

I opened my eyes at Nash’s warm voice and sat down in the space where he patted. Whatever he was serving smelled absolutely amazing, and I realized I hadn’t eaten anything since my morning papaya.

Nash smiled, eyes crinkling, and for a brief moment I found myself comparing him and Camp, the way I never had to work to make Nash smile. He did so effortlessly, just like everything else about him.

Effortless.

And yet, there was something rather special about the work you had to put in to get a genuine smile out of Camp, like his joy was a reward, something few people were privileged enough to see.

“Now, don’t get too used to this treatment,” Nash began, lifting the lid off the dish closest to him. “For the most part, it’s a fend for yourself situation around here. But I always like to start the first night off right, with good food, and good company.” He looked up, staring directly at James when he spoke.

James remained silent, glaring back.

I couldn’t be certain who had won that standoff.

Nash turned back to me, whatever strange emotion that crossed his face gone, his expression clear and cheerful once more. “These are family recipes, and were always my favorite growing up, so I hope you like them.”

A perfectly cooked piece of fried chicken made its way onto my plate, with mashed potatoes following.

“Oh my God, Nash, this smells incredible.” My stomach growled angrily, demanding I dig in immediately. Anywhere else I would’ve protested so much food, but I wasn’t about to stand on ceremony in front of these men—not like they had for me anyway.

A sweet flush spread across Nash’s cheeks. “Thanks. It was the last thing my Gran taught me how to make before she passed. ‘Nash, if you ever want to win a woman over, you better learn how to make this fried chicken, and learn how to make it right.”

I laughed, as he turned to serve Camp.

“You know,” he paused. “I never thought to ask her what I should feed a woman if they were a vegetarian. Go ahead and start eating before it gets cold, Scarlett.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I scooped up a bite of chicken, considering. “Fried cauliflower maybe? Or whatever that special kind of mushroom is that tastes like meat.”

“I’ve had those before,” Camp piped up. “They’re actually pretty good. It tastes remarkably like chicken. They look like they’d taste like shit though.”

Nash shook his head, a wry smile on his face while he offered James some of the food. “You can make a lot of substitutions in the rainforest, but mushrooms are one thing I’d stay away from. Too many poisonous ones, and unless you’re an expert, a lot of them look the same. One wrong assumption, and boom, you’re dead.”

I swallowed my bite of the perfect chicken. “Do you just have a running list written down somewhere of everything that can kill you out here, or do you just keep it all stored in your head?”

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