Page 33 of Into the Mountains (Blue Grove Mountain #3)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHARLOTTE

PRESENT DAY

A fter the bottle is empty and the s’mores are eaten, Fran and Cordie head back to their camp. The couples retreat to their tents and it’s only Elias and I left around the campfire.

“You wore that sweatshirt on purpose,” I quietly accuse.

“I did.”

I’m actually a little surprised he admits to it. “I can’t believe you still have it. I figured you would have gotten rid of it when you met Sarah,” I say honestly, because usually when people meet their person, past relationships get thrown away.

“Sarah and I both had our pasts. Both had our boxes and when we met and became friends, and then more than friends shortly after, I did actually throw it away. I donated it.”

I scrunch my brows in confusion. “Then how do you have it now?”

“The universe,” he answers like that explains anything.

A long sigh leaves him slowly as sparks crackle from the fire between us.

“Last year on my birthday, Ethan wanted to get me a really good gift. He started asking me questions about my time playing soccer in high school and my favorite things about it. All that stuff. I thought he was asking because he wanted to start playing or something. Turns out, he and his meddling aunt over there,” he points to Sky’s tent, “started looking for an old sweatshirt from the years I played. Neither of them knew that it was one I used to wear all the time. And lo and behold, somehow they managed to find the exact one I donated for sale at an online thrift store.”

“How did you know it was yours?”

“There was the smallest tear in the left cuff right next to the seam. I’d fiddle with it all the time and tried to stop in fear I’d make it worse. And when I unwrapped it last year, it was the first thing I looked for.”

He pauses as if he’s remembered our time in the cave I took him to on our second date. My body heats as I recall the memories and my skin remembers the way his fingertips felt against it.

He clears his throat and stands, tugging at the hem of the sweatshirt to straighten it. “I’ll see you in the morning, Charlie.”

“Good night, Eli.”

I don’t bother moving from my chair. I’m letting the part of me that wants to watch him bend down and walk into his tent run away with all of my logical thoughts.

Letting that part run further away with them, I imagine following him into his tent.

Wonder what he would do and how he would react.

Whether or not he would kick me out or spread my legs.

No. I’m not doing this. Fifteen years ago, I promised myself I wouldn’t when he tried reaching out. The little voice I’ve been trying to ignore deep down reminds me that fifteen years ago, I’d never have expected to see him again.

Or meet his kid. He’s gone on to live a whole life after me and he still would be living that life if his wife hadn’t gotten sick.

That’s the other thing that scares me. Terrifies me actually.

I’d still be where I am even if Sarah were still alive.

They would have come to visit for Avery and Hudson’s wedding and we’d have had to deal with this in a completely different way.

But that’s not what happened, even if, for Elias and Ethan’s sake, I wish it did.

And now, years later, the guy I was insanely in love with back then is single and we are right back where we were with a few stipulations. It’s a web I’m afraid to try to untangle and part of me wants to leave it tangled. Give up on the knot in the necklace and let it be the way it is. Stuck.

I don’t know how much time passes while I’m swirling around the drain of my thoughts, but by the time I get into my sleeping bag, the fire is down to mostly embers.

The soft light from them flickers in and out of my vision until I finally drift off into a fitful sleep of hazel eyes and sighs echoing against cave walls.

Hissing pierces the air and cold droplets pelting my face startles me from sleep.

By the look of the dying embers, I couldn’t have been asleep for more than an hour.

Within that time, a storm must have rolled in.

Rain continues to douse the small embers and sprinkle my skin and sleeping bag.

The trees seem to be covering me from most of it, so maybe I’ll be fine. I can just ride it out.

The universe has other plans. Before I manage to snuggle myself deeper into my sleeping bag, the clouds decide it’s the perfect time to let out the tears they’ve been holding in, much like I did before this camping trip.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Now I really wish I would have ignored the logical side of my brain that eventually won out and followed Elias into his tent.

Even if I’d have slept on the opposite side, I’d at least be warm and dry.

Right now, I’m getting wet and shivering and am going to have to go into his tent anyway unless I want to spend the rest of the night completely miserable.

I could go to Avery’s tent, but the idea of finding her and Hudson in some sort of compromising position solidifies my decision to go to Elias’s instead.

Leaving behind the sleeping bag that’s now wet, I abandon my place by the fire. It’s either this or sit and shiver in the rain all night.

Thunder cracks through the air and I’m surprised the others are actually still sleeping, unless they aren’t and are taking advantage of the outside noise to cover other noises. Nope, not thinking about that.

Quickly, I unzip the tent and try to step inside without waking Elias, but my foot catches on the bottom of the tent. I don’t have time to recover before I fall right into the sleeping figure in the middle of the tent.

He wakes with a scream that would rival mine from the night he saved me from the bird. Once he realizes it’s me though, he releases a sigh of relief.

“Charlie, what the fuck? Are you okay?” His hands come to my arms, helping me off him. “Wait, why are you wet?” The flash of lightning and clap of thunder that closely follows answers his question. And then he starts laughing.

“Fuck you, Eli.” I try to keep my voice firm, but watching him laugh with such ease after seeing him pretend for so long has me going right along with him.

“It’s not going to rain,” he imitates my voice poorly in a falsetto that sounds nothing like me.

After his laughs finally subside, the shivers have taken over my body. “Can you turn around so I can change please?”

He doesn’t argue. I peel off my wet shirt and toss it in the corner, covering myself with one of my arms even though I know he is turned around and wouldn’t try to sneak a peek. When I go to grab a sweater from my bag, it’s not there.

I hang my head back and let out a groan. “Son of a bitch.”

“Technically, yes. But I actually prefer Eli.”

“Ha ha,” I laugh sarcastically. “I forgot my duffel out there. And my clothes are probably all wet by now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. That does suck. Do you…” he hesitates. “Do you want some of mine? I packed way too many pairs of pants and sweatshirts, because I tend to over prepare.”

“I’d rather have my own clothes.” Mostly because I don’t want to be wrapped in his scent all night.

“You don’t really have much of a choice here, Charlie. You can’t sleep in your wet clothes. Mine are the only option. Unless you want to sleep naked.”

“You wish.”

He doesn’t deny it as he fishes into his bag and pulls out another pair of black sweatpants and a matching black knit sweater. I expect him to hand both over to me, but he only hands the pants over, keeping the sweatshirt.

“I’m also not sleeping shirtless.”

Still turned away from me, he turns his face slightly just over his shoulder.

“I wasn’t going to make you.” I watch as he grabs the back of his favorite sweatshirt and pulls it off of his head in one swift movement.

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him shirtless.

Gone are the scrawny teenage muscles I traced my fingers over years ago.

His back is taut and his skin pulls against his muscles as they move.

Reaching his arm behind him, he hands it out to me.

“Are you sure?”

“Take it before I change my mind.”

Greedily, I do. Quickly, I throw it over my head and push my arms through the sleeve feeling the immediate relief from his body heat.

I take the next few minutes to get out of my pants and underwear and once I have his sweatpants on, I start to feel my limbs a little bit more.

“You can turn around now.” He does and for a moment we both just stare at one another. Longer than a moment.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

So polite. I don’t think either of us are sure what to say. My body chooses this moment to convulse into another bout of shivers despite warming up with the dry clothing.

“Are you still cold?” he asks, quietly.

“Maybe, a little,” I admit. I’m not that cold, but the idea of getting closer to him is too enticing this time to allow myself to ignore it.

“Come over here.” He motions to his spot on his sleeping bag that has a few extra blankets thrown on top. At my questioning look, he adds, “I run cold at night.”

My hand comes into contact with his as I reach out to him, and our fingers lace together as he tugs me down to the blankets.

If there were ever a time I’d feel like something was a dream instead of reality, this might be it.

We lie down, my back to his front, Elias adjusting the blankets to cover us both.

Once we are situated, he pulls me closer until there’s almost no space between us and I think face to face may have been the better option here.

The heat from his body cascades between us in waves. I can feel my skin thawing and I hate how comfortable I feel next to him.

“Are you warmer?” he asks, his hand moving up and down my arm, creating more warmth.