Page 25 of Camping with the Boss

“An actual date with someone you care about doesn’t require an NDA.”

“That’s not what you told Ander.”

“Fucking his way through the National Hockey League is not dating.” Jared spits the words out, sounding nothing like my happy-go-lucky best friend.

My brows raise at this. Ander has dated two hockey players. And they were happy to keep it quiet since they weren’t out. Jared still insisted on NDAs.

God, how did our lives get so fucked up? But I know the answer. A distracted driver. That’s where it started, at least.

The fight is clear on his face. Occupational hazard. He hates losing an argument. “All I’m saying is please be careful. This retreat is to show how diverse and inclusive our company is. And to unify us as a team after everything with Tim. Sleeping with another employee?—”

I slap my hand over his mouth. “What the fuck?” I say in a low voice. “And that wasn’t—Tim—” I snap my mouth shut. I can’t defend my actions, and we both know it. “Fine, I’ll be careful. Now, can we please be done with this conversation? Unless you want to discuss what’s going on between you and my brother?”

“I think we’re good,” he says and then laughs. “Go back to your patient. But no playing doctor. Got it?” This man has helped me through some of the worst moments in my life. We’ve been best friends since high school.

I nod. “Got it.”

Ander and Canyon are sitting on the bottom bunk talking when I enter the room. They both look up. Canyon’s hair is wet like he just showered. He’s not as pale as he was, and the tightness in my chest loosens.

“Thank you, Ander,” I say with a nod. His lips twitch.

“I didn’t do this for you—but you’re welcome. Goodnight, Canyon. I’m just in the other room if you need me.”

“He won’t.”

He smiles for real this time. “Never change, bro. Goodnight.”

As he walks by me, I say, “Goodnight, bro. Have fun with Jared.” He rolls his eyes, but I swear I see a moment of panic. Which makes me pause. I like teasing them, but I don’t actuallythink anything is going on with them. Not when Jared constantly harps on the no-interoffice-relationships rule.

After he’s gone, I take his spot next to Canyon. “Hey.”

“Hey.” His smile is shy.

“Are you doing okay?”

He nods. “Um, Wade?” He licks his lips. “About your question earlier. I’m not sure. I’ve never…” He waves his hand.

It takes me a minute. When his meaning registers, my body heats, and I choke on my tongue. Clearing my throat, I say, “Top or bottombunk.”

Red streaks across Canyon’s cheeks and he covers his face with his hands. “Oh my God. I’m so out of it. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” I pull his hands down. “You’re fine.”

He nods. But then he starts rambling. “Pfft. I can’t believe I thought—it’s not like you’d ask that with everyone there. Or like you’d be interested in me. That’s not possible. Not in the realm of possibilities. It’s banana pants.”

I hate hearing him say these things about himself. That’s my only defense. “Why wouldn’t I be interested, Canyon? You’re sweet. And fun. And”—I swallow the lump in my throat—“beautiful. So beautiful.” I clasp my hands together to keep from reaching for him. This is why Jared gave me “the talk.”

“But you’re…you. And you’re…” He waves his hand.

“I’m what?”

He lets out a nervous-sounding laugh. “Straight.”

This is stupid. Monumentally so. Jared-stringing-me-up-by-my-balls stupid. But the insecurity in his eyes—I can’t stop myself. “That’s the official version. But it’s not…factual.”

“Oh?” His brows scrunch together and then smooth out. “Oh.”

I cup his cheek, and he leans into my touch. Fuck. I’m so screwed. “Contrary to your beliefs, I am interested. But tonight, you need your rest. Top or bottombunk?”

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