Page 39 of My Fearless Fake Fling

Now it was my turn to laugh. “A hike? That seems a bit tame for you.”

Slinging the backpack over his shoulders, he exited the cab, so I did too. Len met me at the front of the truck and took my hand, leading me up to where a dirt trail started.

“This is just practice. It’s a beautiful day and we were cooped up all day yesterday packing.”

“Wait—practice for what?” I stopped walking, tugging on his hand to stop him.

“Oh, did I forget to tell you? We’re going camping.”

“Camping? No…no.” I vigorously shook my head. “I don’t camp.”

Len swatted my butt to get me moving again, so I swatted his back.

He chuckled. “You didn’t climb rock walls, hold pythons, or walk hot coals before either.”

Well, shoot. He had a really good point.

“Okay, I guess we’re going camping. But please tell me there’s at least a tent.”

“Yes, baby, I have a tent.”

We spent the rest of the day hiking the trails and getting lost when we wanted to. Every so often, Len or I would snap a picture, not really for anyone else’s benefit like the videos, for our own enjoyment to look back on.

Both of us were so tired and sweaty after our time outdoors that we ordered sub sandwiches, chips, and pickles from a local sub shop and crashed, watching movies until we fell asleep.

This time Len made sure to pull out a comedy, so no tears. Well, I’ll amend. Thereweretears, but only the laughing kind.

We got up extra early the next morning and drove to the truck rental place. One of us probably should’ve looked up the hours of business first because we spent twenty-five minutes waiting for the place to open just so we could rent a stupid truck. Then, just the two of us, we spent the whole day loading up boxes at my apartment and unloading them either into Len’s condo or his storage unit. Some things we donated to a second-hand store.

He’d decided we were taking off to camp for the week, come first light.

I insisted we needed time to plan and prepare.

“If we forget it, then we don’t need it,” he argued.

In the battle between Kami and Len, Kami lost.

Come first light, true to his word, the alarm clock buzzed too loud to be allowed to survive, and I chucked a pillow at it.

My body was sore from all the physical activity yesterday.

“Come on, lazy bones. Shower, dress. We got us a camping trip to go on.”

I showered, brushed my teeth, dressed in a pair of pink cotton shorts, white tank, and my sandals—making sure to pack my new boots and plenty of socks.

Forty-five minutes later, we were on the road because he promised me a greasy, so-bad-for-you fast food breakfast if I hurried.

And the place we were headed to offered cheesy hash brown bites. One moved with lightning quickness for cheesy hash brown bites.

That’s all I’m saying.

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