Page 31 of Eco-Activist’s Mountain Men (Mountain Men Reverse Harem #4)

Luna

W ow, what an evening.

I'd wanted to find a way to show the guys I meant what I said about leaving Kill Climate Change—that it wasn't just some impulsive outburst. I also wanted to bring us all together somehow.

To see if we could feel more like a team—maybe even a family.

If I could find a way to make that happen, I had to try.

I'd thought long and hard about it, and finally remembered a single lecture from my brief stint at university. Honestly, I didn't attend many classes before I dropped out, but one lecture stuck with me. It was on Festinger's Group Cohesion Theory .

The professor had divided us into random groups and told each group to go back to their dorms, cook a shared meal, and then chat, gossip, hang out, play games—whatever. Then report back in the morning.

What we found was fascinating. Even though the groups were arbitrary, by socializing—by doing normal, silly, everyday things—we bonded. We started to care. We became teams.

That memory hit me like a flash of inspiration.

So I applied it here. I cooked us all a special meal, and then I suggested a game—one we had played in the dorm that time at uni, in fact. Charades.

To my surprise, it actually worked. Really worked. Everyone got involved. Everyone laughed. We even encouraged each other when the guesses were terrible.

By the end of the evening, something had shifted between us. The tension had melted. The walls had come down. For the first time, I felt like I truly belonged, and that we were really a team, not just a collection of individuals who happened to share a common space.

It went way beyond what I hoped for.

After the game, Eric had disappeared to his room and came back with a bottle of tequila, which he opened to much cheering.

We didn't have five shot glasses in the place, so we improvised with tumblers, and at least each had our own glass to drink from. Eric poured us all a shot, and then he proposed a toast.

"To vegan chili, with cornbread and cinnamon apples."

We all cheered and knocked our glasses back. Then Toby spoke up.

"Right then," he said. "It may not have been the moment earlier, I'll admit, but now definitely is the moment for a drinking game. How about it, folks?"

"Like what?" Jack asked warily, already bracing for Toby’s mischief.

"Well… how about Have You Done It? "

"What's that?" Eric asked, blinking behind his glasses.

"It's where you take turns to say something you've done in your life. Like, oh… bungee jumping, or visiting Thailand, or anything you don't think everyone else has done. Anyone who hasn't done it is punished—they have to drink a shot. Then the next person goes, and so on."

"Won't we all get really drunk, really quickly?" Eric asked, bless him.

"Err… yes, Eric." Toby grinned broadly, his teeth flashing.

"Oh. Okay.. I think. I haven't played anything like that before."

"Oh, you'll soon get the hang of it, Eric," Toby said, wagging his eyebrows. "In fact, something tells me you're going to turn out to be a natural at this game."

I decided I'd better step in before Toby steamrolled the whole night. "Alright," I said. "We'll play your ridiculous game."

"Woohoo!"

"But only if I go first…"

"Alright, Princess, you can go first, if it's that important to you."

"And you, Toby James, with your filthy lifestyle—you have to go last."

Toby gave a dramatic sigh, hand to his chest like a wounded actor, but agreed.

Which meant I got to start. I wanted to, anyway.

Even though it was his bottle of tequila, something told me Eric was not as experienced a drinker as the other three men—or me, for that matter—so I wanted to give him at least one free pass, and I knew exactly what I was going to say.

"Okay, guys, here we go. Have you ever made love outside, under the stars?"

"What, full sex?"

"Yes, of course, full sex, you moron." I rolled my eyes at Luke’s gravel-voiced clarification.

"In that case, err… yes," Luke admitted after a pause.

"Fair enough, Luke. Jack? Toby? Eric?"

Jack said simply, "Yep. Several times." His tone was blunt, matter-of-fact—the soldier reporting facts, not feelings.

Eric, on the other hand, flushed scarlet and whispered, "Yes," eyes darting toward me for a fraction of a second. His answer was shy, almost apologetic, like admitting he’d done something scandalous.

Toby laughed and opened his mouth, already warming up for a boast, but we all cut him off in chorus: "Shut up." He only grinned wider, basking in the attention.

"Okay, no one has to drink. Eric," I said. "Your turn."

"My turn? Oh, right. Okay sure. Er… have you ever seen the Aurora Borealis?"

"The what now?" Toby blinked.

"The Northern Lights, you ignoramus."

"Oh, that. Yes. Just once," Toby admitted, "but it wasn’t like the photographs, just a kind of hint of shimmering green in the sky."

So Toby was clear. I’d seen it several times on skiing trips with Mom and Dad. Eric, of course, had seen it—that’s why he’d asked. That left Luke and Jack, who both had to down their tequilas and refill their glasses.

Next up was Jack. Predictably, he went military.

"Have you ever been to Afghanistan?"

"Oh, come on, Jack. That’s not fair, bro," Toby groaned.

"You know none of the rest of us have been in the military.

" His outrage was theatrical, but Jack just grinned and shrugged, utterly unapologetic.

Authority came naturally to him, even in games.

The rest of us had to down our drinks and refill again.

Then Luke cleared his throat. His voice was steady as ever—measured, calm. He wasn’t a man who wasted words, but when he spoke, it landed.

"Have you ever benched three-fifteen?"

"What does that even mean, Luke?" Toby squawked.

He smiles smugly, but remains silent. It's Toby who answers. "He means, can you bench press three hundred and fifteen pounds—that's the bar with three of the really big plates on either side. Only serious athletes and strongmen can manage that… as well he knows—the smug bastard."

I sigh. "So that's a 'no' for all of us except the sasquatch." But instead of taking offence at the name this time, Luke just laughs, whilst the rest of us down our tequilas and refill our glasses.

The game continues for two more rounds before we're out of tequila, the final refill being on Toby's round.

"Have you ever been skinny dipping in the plunge pool here at night?"

"The plunge pool… what plunge pool?" I ask, mystified.

"Oh, haven't you seen the plunge pool? It's in the forest. You just go a quarter of a mile up the track and turn first right into the trees, and you end up in a natural clearing where there's a fresh water spring, and we dug out a plunge pool there about what…

four or five years ago. It's the most amazing way to relax and freshen up after a hard day's work.

We often go there on really hot days in July and August. We never bother with clothes… I mean—who's going to be there, right?"

"Apart from maybe some of Luke's sasquatch relatives popping by, you mean?" But Luke merely grins. He's clearly learned not to take me seriously at last.

"Well, I for one," says Eric rather tipsily. "Suggest we all dwink our lasht tekilly—teekilly—sh- shots, and go up there now. Have a dip. Whassay?"

"Gets my vote." Toby's grinning broadly. Yeah… like he hadn't intended this to happen.

"I'm up for it," says Jack. Luke gives a nod. All eyes turn to me.

"Oh, come on, guys. I'm the only girl."

"That's okay," Toby's smiling. "We'll let you undress behind a tree if you're shy. Come on, guys… drink up. Last one in's a striped skunk!"

It’s late September, but despite the big storm, the summer heat has stayed. Even though it’s well past midnight, it’s still warm enough for T-shirts as we pick our way up the track. Within five minutes, we’ve reached the clearing, and I gasp.

The moon hangs bright overhead, and together with the stars, the little glade is bathed in silvery light. The water sparkles and dances like something out of a Disney fairytale.

At the edge of the plunge pool is a weathered wooden platform. Toby doesn’t hesitate—boots already kicked off, pants and boxers flying. With a roar, he launches himself into the pool, hitting with a splash that showers the bank.

He may be first, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to be last. No way am I going to creep behind a tree, stripping shyly while the men wait with grins and catcalls.

Not tonight. I tug my clothes off quickly—my ankle hardly slowing me anymore—and squeal as I hurl myself into the pool, hitting the water just after Eric, who’d dived in a second before me.

Luke and Jack follow soon after, their heavier splashes echoing through the trees.

The water is freezing, stealing our breath in gasps, but that only makes us laugh harder.

Toby and Jack gang up on Luke, trying to wrestle him under.

Even together, they can’t budge him, and Luke just stands there like a boulder in a flood, shaking them off with a rare grin tugging at his lips.

Eric and I splash at each other until Toby dives under and bursts up in front of me, scooping me clear off my feet.

He hurls me high into the air, and I hit the water with a shriek and a splash.

The others turn on Toby, chasing him in chaotic arcs around the pool. He’s quick, laughing as he dodges and weaves, until finally we corner him and dunk him under with a roar of victory.

We’re kids again. Shouting, laughing, carefree. For a while, nothing exists but splashing water, moonlight, and the sounds of us together.

But then the laughter softens. The splashing dies down. The air changes—thicker, slower, electric. Glances linger. Touches hold.

A hand skims my waist under the water. Another brushes my thigh. I don’t flinch. I don’t move away. I float, open, waiting.

Toby’s voice is first, low and teasing. “Well, well. Are we still playing games?”