Page 58 of The Plus One
An involuntary whimper of desire clawed out of Indira’s throat.
Well… fuck.
Even in the dark, Indira could see Jude’s eyes go wide with horror, and she scrambled off him as he squirmed uncomfortably, sitting up and shifting to the farthest corner of the tent he could.
They stared at each other, their shallow breaths mixing with the wind and rustling leaves outside their tent.
“I… uh… Sorry… um,” Jude spluttered out. “That didn’t… That wasn’t…”
Somehow, all those disjointed words made the situation ten times worse.
“Goodbye,” Indira said quickly, moving in a flash to unzip the tent and bear-crawling out of it. She grabbed her shoes, rolling onto her back in the damp grass to jam them on her feet.
“Where are you going?” Jude hissed, popping his head out of the opening.
“Air,” was all Indira managed to choke out, scrambling to her feet and doing an awkward walk-run away. She needed space. She needed to not let the traitorous memory of the feel of his body buzz around her brain like a horny little fly.
“You can’t take off into the woods in the middle of the night alone,” Jude said, crawling out of the tent and jogging to catch up.
“I am a fiercely independent woman with immense survival skills and perfect night vision,” Indira lied.
Jude scoffed in response.
After a few minutes of stumbling in the woods, she begrudgingly pulled out her phone, using the flashlight to follow a short trail that led to a small creek.
Indira stopped at the water’s edge, out of options.
“What’s wrong? Not gonna plow through the stream?” Jude asked, shooting a look at Indira’s exceptionally flimsy, but extremely chic, tennis shoes.
She sighed, turning to face him. “Should we just… get this conversation out of the way?”
Jude nodded, eyes dropping to the ground. “I’m sorry I…” Jude cleared his throat, gesturing at his body.
“Pitched your own tent?” Indira supplied.
Jude shot her a look of horror, their gazes locking for a solid thirty seconds.
And then they both dissolved into nervous giggles.
“It’s… uh… been awhile,” he said quietly, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck and looking off toward the river. “It didn’t mean anything. I promise.”
Okay, ouch. Perhaps the only thing more awkward than feeling an inconvenient—and rather forbidden—boner between your legs was said boner-owner then telling you that it didn’t mean anything.
“I, um, yeah. I figured.” Indira wanted to crumple her silly heartinto a ball and chuck it into the garbage for making her wish it meant something. “If it’s any consolation, it’s, er, been awhile for me too.”
Jude’s eyes snapped to her incredulously, and Indira, quite simply, wanted to die.
Holy fuck.
Why did she say that?Why?
She’d blurted out the words before she could process them, and now she wanted to choke on her own damn tongue.
“It’s only been a few weeks since you and Chris broke up,” he said carefully, tiptoeing on the edge of this conversation that shouldn’t be happening between them.
She let out a self-conscious laugh, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Dry spells exist in relationships too.”
There was a long pause, and Indira felt forced to fill it, more far-too-honest truths pouring out of her. “I think Chris and I lost any connection we originally had a long time ago. It was almost like we stopped actually seeing each other. Like going through the motions of being together was easier than the work being single would take.”
