Page 68 of Cloudy With a Chance of Bad Decisions

How stupid could I be?

“C’mere.” Alex’s voice rumbled warm and increasingly familiar as he sidled up to me from whatever dark pit he’d been summoned. His hands closed tight on my tensed shoulders just like they had earlier that day. He kneaded themas we walked. A bolt of lust shot through my body. “I’ll show you to our bed.”

“O-our bed?”

“Oops. Our tent. My bad.” Alex’s voice quaked with mirth. He was just as unsurprised as I was to discover our families had put us together. Despite my anxiety, I relaxed some. Oddly enough, I trusted Alex to keep to his word.

He’d pinky promised.

I didn’t recognize the way George made me feel. Like a teenager but worse, because simply being in his vicinity inspired me to act in ways that were downright juvenile. I couldn’t help but pull his proverbial pigtails. I also couldn’t stop the surge of protective energy I felt when I thought about him and Brendon, or the apprehension that’d flickered when he’d mentioned all the things he didn’t like about the great outdoors.

It said a lot about him that he was here despite this.

That he’d chosen to spend a week outside—doing activities he abhorred, more than likely—so that he could reunite with his family. I didn’t know why exactly it had been so long since he’d been home. I still felt guilty about the watch incident and wasn’t going to press for answers from George when today had already been stressful enough.

Protectively, I held his shoulders tight as I herded him toward the tent we’d be sharing. Though June had let me in on her evil “carpool” plan, the tenthad been unexpected. Funny, seeing as I was the person that had planned the whole damn event.

She had tricks up her sleeve.

Wily, sneaky, evil tricks.

Luckily for me, somewhere between the “Hell is Real” sign and the florist we’d visited in Columbus, I had reached the conclusion that I no longer minded her meddling. As mortifying as my apology had been, it had done wonders for the uncomfortable tension between George and me.

I emphasize uncomfortable, because there was certainly still tension left behind—but the sexy sort. The kind that made my skin feel buzzy, and my dick half hard.

George remained stiff despite the way I rubbed circles into his tense shoulders. He was genuinely freaked out. Anxious puffs of air escaping. Wide eyes. His chest barely moved with each shallow breath. Part of me was tempted to take him back to Chesterton. Or maybe to my house? Where I could tuck him into bed, force him to watchThe Hobbit, and order us steak.

But this was June’s wedding.

And I wanted to be here.

Besides, I got the feeling that George didn’tactuallywish to go. He was the kind of man that didn’t mince words. He took action. If he really didn’t want to be here, he would’ve found a way to leave, with or without my help.

When we arrived at our destination, I pushed those thoughts aside. Mournfully, I released George’s shoulders and leaned around him to unzip the tent door. Our tent was fairly large. Yellow, thick-walled, with a see-through panel in the ceiling to peek at the stars at night. It definitely had enough room for two people, though not much else. I’d bought it when June had made it her mission in life to trick me into going camping with her and Roderick on the weekends. Even considering our long legs, George and I would have plenty of space to stretch out. Sure, we’d be somewhat pushed together, but that was only part of the thrill.

A fact I’m sure had fueled June’s decision to commandeer our sleeping arrangements. I swear to God she was getting ideas straight out of the books we’d buddy-read.

“You first,” I said, forgetting for just a moment what a jumpy little rabbit he was.

George turned alarmed eyes on me, his lips wobbling as he pressed them in a thin, distressed line.

“You want me to gofirst?” The deep, throaty quake of his voice had my cock instantly perking up, despite how inappropriate that was. My mouth went dry.Fuck. For such a slight thing, George’s voice was wildly deceiving. Low and delightfully melodic. You’d never expect a sound so deep to leave a man so delicate.

“You’re right—I’ll go first,” I said immediately, stepping through the open flap and inside the dark tent.Stop acting so horny,I chided my dick in the privacy of my own mind.He needs comfort.

After checking the darkest corners for bugs or animals, and concluding the tent was safe, I turned back to the open flap where George was lingering.

“No snakes, bugs, or creatures of any kind,” I reassured. “Come on in.”

To hopefully put him at ease, I adopted an air of casual indifference. With a grunt, I flopped onto the camping mattress I’d set up while George had been off with his mother. It gave beneath my weight. Like I was coaxing a wild animal closer, my lips twisted into a friendly smile—that unfortunately felt like a leer despite my best efforts.

George didn’t move.

I patted the space beside me in a way that I hoped was inviting.

After some tense deliberation, George finally reacted. He ducked his head in through the flap, his steely eyes narrowed on me and the surrounding space. He studied the tent’s interior with his brows drawn into what could only be described as a suspicious scowl. He didn’t step a foot inside, obviously still holding some reservations.

Okay, so patting the bed hadn’t worked.

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