Page 56 of The Plus One
Indira’s throat constricted, heart squeezing.
“Don’t mention it,” she said with a smile. Jude smiled back.
A single, small tear rolled down her cheek when Jude shut the door.
“This is ass,” Indira said under her breath a few hours later, burrowing deeper into her coat as the wind picked up. “Camping is just life but harder.”
Collin, Rake, and Jude had already spent an annoyingly long time trying to start a fire the “good old-fashioned way,” by smacking sticks together. And, as each minute of failure ticked on, warmth seemed more like an elusive fantasy than a basic tool for survival. Lizzie, Jeremy, and Indira were huddled together, stuffing marshmallows in their mouths and quietly narrating their Neanderthals’ dismal survival skills like sportscasters covering a game.
“Collin’s recent tantrum before the commercial break certainly lacked a level of sportsmanship,” Jeremy said quietly. “But he’s regained his composure as we kick off the next quarter.”
“It seems as though Rake is going for the thick stick again after recently benching it for injury recovery. Could this be a reflection on his own phallus and using it as a guiding force? Our player expert, Lizzie Blake, is here with the details,” Indira said, handing an invisible microphone to Lizzie.
“Thanks for the introduction, Dira. While yes, Rake does have a confirmed hammer dick packed into those tight pants, said penis has more of a leftward curve than the thick stick he is aggressively rubbing against yet another stick. Insider knowledge leads us to believe that, more than anything else, our resident himbo’s choice of fire-making tools is directly correlated to having absolutely no clue what he’s doing. Back to you.”
They all cackled until they were crying, provoking dirty looks from the other three who were sweaty and irritated by this point.
“Why must I do everything?” Indira sighed, standing and brushing off the back of her jeans.
She walked to the pile of gear by her car, rummaged for a second, then found what she was looking for. Per Collin’s instructions—who’d binge-watched one Saturday’s worth ofMan vs. Wildand suddenly considered himself a survivalist—the guys were crouched near the side of the firepit, trying to light the small bundle of tinder that they’d then move to the logs if they ever got it going.
Indira used her hip to bump Collin out of the way, the others tumbling like dominos after him. She then popped the lid off the lighter fluid, giving it a good squeeze over the wood before tossing it to the side. With sharp movements, she grabbed a match, struck it, and tossed the tiny flame into the firepit, grinning in delight when large flames burst up with a quiet but powerfulpoof.
Dusting her hands off, she turned to the group. “S’mores, anyone?”
Lizzie started slow-clapping.
After mild grumbling that was soon replaced with full mouths and fuller bellies, the group thawed by the fire. Lizzie and Jeremy kept everyone entertained for hours, the vivacious storytellers feeding off each other until Indira was close to tears with laughter and Rake was doubled-over, holding his sides as he wheezed. Even Jude looked more relaxed. He didn’t smile, exactly, but it was like, for the first time in weeks, some of the tension in his body was finally releasing.
Indira kept catching him looking at her across the circle, his eyes shooting to his feet the second their gazes met. The dancing flames cast shadows on the hard lines of his face—amplifying the sharpness of his nose, the angle of his jaw—but the amber glow warmed him, making him look fierce but beautiful in the darkness that settled around them like a blanket.
When the fire was burned down to weak embers, everyone made the silent decision that it was time for bed.
It wasn’t until Indira was gathering up the bundle of quilts andpillows she was using in lieu of a sleeping bag that she realized her sleeping situation was about to get extremely awkward.
Rake had brought a sturdy, reliable, two-person tent for the trip, which Lizzie had managed to mangle into a knot for an hour while the two bickered and giggled as they put it together. Collin and Jeremy had their own sleeper that barely seemed to fit the pair as they wrestled their limbs into it.
Which meant, nightmare of all nightmares, Indira’s only option for sleeping was to curl up on the dirt and hope she didn’t roll into the firepit while she slept.
Or… share with Jude.
Her stomach swooped up while her heart bottomed out of her chest.
“’Night,” Collin mumbled before closing himself and Jeremy in, the scratch of the zipper’s teeth amplified in the quiet of nature.
Indira and Jude stared at each other in mutual horror, scrambling for a solution that wouldn’t have them pressed against each other in a three-by-five space for the next eight hours.
“I can sleep out here,” Jude said, jamming his hands in his pockets and looking down at the ground.
“No. Don’t be ridiculous,” Indira said, tugging at her curls. “It’s your tent. I can… I’ll sleep in the car. Blast the heat too instead of dying of hypothermia tonight.” Her words were punctuated by a nervous cackle of laughter that made them both flinch.
“And drain your car battery? Genius.”
Indira was caught off guard. Not because Jude was being a snarky twat—she knew that was fundamental to his being—but because he said it with something almost like… playfulness. A teasing that reminded her of when they were young, but with a subtle undercurrent of something different. And dammit if her soft and traitorous little heart didn’t melt a bit at that.
Was being roasted her love language? What the hellwasthis?
“Listen,” Jude said, dragging a hand across the back of his neck, then dropping it heavily at his side. “There’s only one tent. We’lljust… I don’t know, squeeze some blankets in between us. Problem solved.”
