Page 20

Chapter Twenty

TYLER

“You’re what?” I wince at Nathan’s screech. He’s sitting on one of my bar stools, mouth wide open.

“You heard me.” I glare at him. Didn’t Graham say being more open with my friends would be nice? So far, it’s not working.

“I don’t believe it. You, Tyler Mossman, are going camping?” I nod. “In the woods?” I’m beginning to feel like a bobblehead. “You know camping is outside, right? With dirt and bugs and wild animals?”

Fuck . Did Nathan think so little of me? I spent hours a week in a garden filled with those things. Well, not the wild animals, but the dirt and bugs. The occasional rabbit shows up, as well. “I’m not that fragile.” Plus, Graham promised there were no wolves in the area.

Nathan snorts. “No, of course not. Hey, who was that friend of ours who once refused to make s’mores in Matthias’s backyard because the marshmallow touched a stick?”

“That’s different.” No one said anything about having to put dirt in my mouth. There are limits. There are purpose-built tools for roasting marshmallows. Ones not covered in muck. “This’ll be fine. Graham goes camping a lot and knows what he’s doing.” Or at least I hope he does. One of us should, and it sure as fuck isn’t me.

“And you’re happy about this?” Nathan pauses and looks me over, cocking his head to one side and pressing his lips together.

“Very.” Like, over the moon, sickly sweet, happy. That part I prefer to keep to myself.

“Then I’m happy for you. Really.” He comes around the counter and pulls me into his arms. It takes me a minute to realize he’s hugging me before I fully relax. “You deserve this.”

I’m not sure how to take that since he’s all but said he expects me to get eaten by a bear on this trip, but I decide to take it as a compliment. When Nathan releases me, I feel better. Less buzzy and more at ease.

“You tell Graham that if you don’t make it back, I’ll hunt him down and kill him. Colt works at a hospital, so he knows how to dispose of bodies.”

I chuckle. “He works in administration.” I’m pretty sure his office is nowhere near any actual patients—dead or alive.

“He still knows things.”

Yeah, I know better than to argue with Nathan when he gets in one of these moods. Plus, Colt will do almost anything for him—including figuring out how to hide a body.

“Help me pack?” As excited as I am to do this, I could use some help pulling things together. It’s surprisingly difficult to figure out what to bring on a trip like this. As promised, Graham sent me a list, but it raised more questions than it answered. While Nathan might not be what anyone would call outdoorsy, he’s got a better chance than I do of knowing what all this means. At least his family camped while he was growing up. Mine is more the luxury hotel type.

“Fine, but I demand pizza as payment.” I raise an eyebrow at him. I’m more than happy to have pizza, but he’s usually the one nagging me about eating healthy.Between him and Matthias, it’s a wonder I ever get junk food. “What? Colt’s a bad influence.”

I shake my head as I laugh and pull out my phone. Personally, I think Colt’s been a great influence.

After a few button presses, the pizza’s ordered. While we wait, Nathan and I retreat to my bedroom to pack. Of course, Nathan throws himself onto the bed and makes himself comfortable among the pillows. Real helpful .

“You have the most comfortable bed. How is this even possible?” He squeezes one of the throw pillows to his chest.

“Could you focus, please?” I give him my best stern look. As usual, it has no effect. The downside of having been friends for so long. He knows that there’s nothing behind my glare except empty threats.

“Sure, what do we need to pack?”

I pull out my phone and refer to the message from Graham. “Um, let’s start with the easy stuff.” Skimming, I look for the obvious things. “Okay, so we’ll be gone for three days, so I need an outfit for each of those plus one extra.” Just in case. I reach into my closet and pull out a couple of pairs of jeans.

“Uh, I don’t think that’s what he meant.” Nathan puts my pillow down and grabs for the jeans. “You want something a bit more rugged. Something you can hike in.”

“I can hike in jeans.” Also, I highly doubt I have anything that resembles the cargo shorts I usually see on hikers. The only other option is the slacks I wear to work. I doubt those will meet Nathan’s approval.

“Do you have any pairs that are loose? Think of something you would wear to help me move rather than what you might wear to the club.”

“I’m not helping you move ever again. That’s what your boyfriend is for.” To be fair, I’m also out of my clubbing phase.It’s not my fault I look best in skinny jeans.

I rub my fingers over my temples. If I’d known there would be a dress code, I wouldn’t have suggested this. “Graham’s the most put-together, suit-person I’ve ever met. I don’t think I’ve seen him out of the house in anything even resembling casual wear. I’m sure whatever I have on will be fine.”

“Suit person?” Nathan presses his lips together, stifling his laughter.

“You know, someone who looks comfortable and confident in a suit.” He’s probably been wearing them since high school. It’s not a complaint. He looks damn good in them.

“Somehow, I doubt that. Get the comfy jeans out. Plus, t-shirts, underwear, and socks.” Bossy Nathan is better than unfocused Nathan, so I follow his directions, piling the items on the bed. Nathan gives me a few odd looks but doesn’t say anything about my selections.

Camping is a chance to prove to Graham that I fit into all aspects of his life. Soon, we won’t work together anymore. While that comes with some relief, mainly related to being caught, it also means that we need to find new ways to connect with one another.

“Okay, he said I need a buff, whatever that is, and a hat.”

“It’s like a bandana but a full loop of cloth.” Nathan taps on his phone and then holds up the screen with a clear picture of what he described.

“Fuck, I don’t have one of those.” I look around the room for a substitute. “I don’t have a bandana either.” Because this is neither the Wild West nor a gangster film. Do people really buy this crap?

“You can probably get away without it. You have a hat, right?”

Technically, yes? I rummage through the back of my closet, looking through a few bags of stuff that I set aside to donate but never got around to taking anywhere. I guess that’s a good thing because I find the Cardinal Falls University ball cap that they gave me at orientation. I’m pretty sure that day is the first and last day I had it on.

“I can’t believe you still have that thing,” Nathan says when I hold it up triumphantly.

“Me, either.” I toss it on top of the growing pile. “He says swimsuit, towel, pajamas, hiking shoes, and a raincoat.” I have maybe half of that. And that’s if we’re willing to count my Vans as hiking shoes. Either way, I pull together some version of the remaining items.

Nathan says nothing and eventually gives up, choosing instead to play games on his phone. When I pull my bag out of the closet, he looks up and scurries off the bed. “No, I’m sorry. I’ve watched you pack some ridiculous things for this trip, but I draw the line here. You cannot take a suitcase camping.”

“It’s a trip. What else would I use?”

“Do you have a backpack or a duffle bag around here somewhere?” He’s got that look on his face that says it’s not worth arguing. I don’t think he’s going to find anything. I’m not a gym person, so I’ve never needed something like that. I’ve got two suitcases and a laptop backpack, and there’s no way all of this is fitting in the backpack.

I shove the suitcase back in the closet, ignoring the clatter of various items that fall from the shelves. I can worry about it later. After a few minutes of searching through some of the hall closets, I find an old duffle. I’m not sure where it came from, but hopefully it’ll work. “Does this meet your approval?”

“Not really, but it’s better.”

I roll my eyes. If Nathan sees, he doesn’t say anything.

“You promise Graham has done this before, right? He’s got real equipment and everything?” Nathan looks between my pile of stuff and the duffle bag.

“Yes, Dad.”

“Hey, I’m not trying to take over Matthias’s job as the worrier of the group, but I keep picturing you out in the wilderness for more than five minutes with all of this”—he waves his hands over my stack of stuff—“and the image that pops into my mind involves me talking to some poor park ranger when you don’t come back on Monday.”

“I promise, Graham has things covered.” Plus, it’s not like we’re hiking up a mountain or something. We’re going to a campsite with other people. How much trouble can we get into?

“You really like him, don’t you?” Nathan grips my shoulder and gives it a soft squeeze. The best I can do is nod and swallow around the lump in my throat. “Good, because I can tell how much he cares about you.”

I don’t know when all these feelings entered my system, but they’re overwhelming, threatening to bubble over the surface. Six months ago, I never would’ve agreed to date anyone. I never would’ve gone camping. And now?

I try to think about what’s changed inside me in that short period of time. It’s not me, though; it’s Graham. He’s changed me. Not just the dating thing, either. I’m closer to Nathan than I’ve ever been, which is saying something. Aaron and Matthias, too. I feel… lighter? I wrack my brain for another explanation but come up empty. Tears burn in my eyes, and I blink them away. Lucky for me, my phone buzzes, and I pull it from my pocket, using the notification as a convenient excuse to pull myself together.

“Now, will you please help me finish packing?” I ask, clearing my throat. “The pizza will be here in less than five minutes, and I want to be able to enjoy it while it’s hot.”

A few minutes later, Nathan and I have somehow managed to fit everything into the bag, though the seams are bulging. It’s meant for a trip to the gym, not a weekend away with my boyfriend.

The word boyfriend still makes my heart flutter. I don’t hate it.

* * *

GRAHAM

“You got everything?” I eye the duffel bag over Tyler’s shoulder. It’s not quite what I had in mind when I sent him a packing list, but it’ll work. I know he said he didn’t have any camping experience, but maybe I should’ve asked more questions before agreeing to spend a weekend in the woods.

He did say he wanted to go, though.

“Close enough.” He shrugs. The answer doesn’t fill me with confidence, but I smile anyway.

“I’ve got a lot of extra stuff with me. As long as you have clothes and shoes, we should be good.”

Tyler shrugs his shoulder, bouncing the stuffed bag. “Yep, got all the clothes. The shoes didn’t fit, so I’m wearing them.”

I glance down at the well-worn sneakers on his feet. They’re… sufficient. He’s been so excited to do this that I can’t bring myself to say anything that might dull his enthusiasm. “Perfect.” I can adjust our activities and pick trails that’ll be a better fit for what he brought. Honestly, I want the time alone with him without work, friends, or noisy siblings interfering. It doesn’t matter what we do as long as we’re together.

I open the trunk, and he tosses his bag in with the rest of the stuff. We settle in, and, against my better judgment, I give Tyler free rein over the music for the drive. It’s an eclectic mix of nineties metal, current pop hits, and alternative rock. I’m afraid to ask if it’s a predesigned playlist or if he simply hit shuffle. Either way, it’s a nice background to our light conversation. The drive is fast with little traffic, and we approach the state park around six.

“This is it?” Tyler stares out the window, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “Really?” I can practically see the wheels turning in his head. I hope none of the expressions on his face are regret.

“It doesn’t look like much, but that’s why we brought our equipment. We’ll get the tent set up first and then pull out the extras, like chairs and cooking equipment.” He still looks skeptical but opens the door and meets me at the back of the car.

I pull out the stuff we’ll need to get the tent set up. It’s not much. A simple two-person tent designed for sleeping and nothing more. Since we usually opt for cabins as a family, I don’t have any of the fancy things. As a kid, we had all the coolest stuff: tents with extra rooms, lanterns, camp tables, and plenty of other options. Now? I’m down to the bare minimum.

We don’t need much aside from a place to sleep and a few things to use for cooking. Though, I’m still not sure this is Tyler’s thing. I may know a nearby hotel with empty rooms. Always come prepared for Plan B.

“Ever set one of these up before?” I hold up the tent bag.

“Definitely not.”

“Why don’t you take it over to the clearing there and lay the pieces out so we can get started?” I hope. Honestly, it’s been a lot of years since I put one of these together. Suddenly, I’m thankful my siblings felt the urge to procreate and provide us with a reason not to rough it anymore.

I grab a few more bags and take them over to the fire pit. I’ve got enough to allow us not to starve. We might need to eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches a few times, but it won’t kill us. Most importantly, I brought coffee and a way to make hot water.

“Is this okay?” Tyler calls. He’s got all the pieces lined up. There’s not really a wrong way, so I give him a thumbs up.

“Give me a second to finish up here.” I store all our gear out of the way where we’ll be able to find it later and head over to help.

I wish my phone got better service out here. A step-by-step guide would be a big help right now.

“Okay, there’s a big tarp in there we need to lay out first.” I find the ground tarp among the items, turning it shiny-side-up. “This way goes toward the ground.” We grab the corners and spread the tarp out on the ground where the tent will go.

Tyler looks happy when we spread it out on the ground. That’s the part that’s nearly impossible to screw up. “Now we need the tent.” We grab it and unfold the fabric. “Somewhere on here is a door. We want to make sure it points out toward the rest of the site.”

It takes us a few minutes to find the zippered entrance, but once we do, it’s easy to lay the tent out on top of our ground tarp. Tyler eyes our progress. “Um, it’s a bit… small?”

“It’s for two people.” Technically. “It’s a tight fit, but we won’t spend much time in there. Think of it as being the bed.” I’m not sure my pep talk is as convincing as I hoped.

“Time for the tent poles.” I hand him one of the folded tent poles and keep the other for myself. “It’s pretty easy, but you can watch me first.” I start putting mine together, letting the individual segments snap together. I get mine done first, but Tyler’s not far behind. He’s a little clumsy, letting his pole wiggle and move around behind him. Lucky for me, I’m out of the danger zone.

When we both finish, I squat down on the ground and show him where the sheaths are that we’ll thread the poles through. I do mine first, pushing through and over to Tyler, who pulls it through. Then we repeat the process with his pole, this time letting Tyler get it started.

“It’s supposed to stand up, right?”

I can’t help but laugh. “It will. We have a couple more steps before it’s done.” I love this part; it’s a bit like magic. “Grab one of the poles on your side and stick it into the grommet.” I show him the one on my side.

“Are you sure this is right?” he asks, flexing his pole and trying to get it through the loop.

“You can’t break it.” I hope. “The poles are supposed to bend like that.”

Tyler’s tongue peeks out of the corner of his mouth as he forces the pole into the grommet. We switch and get the other set of corners done.

“Oh my God! It’s a real tent.” Tyler’s eyes light up, looking at the scruffy old thing. It’s an ugly shade of gray with red stripes around the edges. It’s at least a decade old, and the pigment has faded from too much time in storage. It’s amazing to see it pop up, though. Not that long ago, it was sitting in a small bag. Now, it looks functional.

“Very real.” I pick up the last of the equipment set out. “We need to get the stakes in so the tent doesn’t blow away.”

“That could happen?” Tyler freezes. It’s tempting to screw with him, but I decide against it. I’m sure there’ll be plenty of opportunities on this trip.

“Not once we get the stakes in.” I do all of them, moving from corner to corner and hammering them in with a rock. The ground is soft, so it doesn’t take much to get them in. Tyler watches intently, following me around, but doesn’t ask to help. I don’t mind doing them, plus I like knowing they’re secure.

We stand back and admire our work for a second. It’s a major success that we got the tent up so quickly and that we’re still on speaking terms. In my experience, that’s not a given with something like this.

“Want to get our sleeping bags set up while I start a fire?” My suggestion may have a secret motive behind it. I’m not so confident in my fire-starting skills that I want an audience for the endeavor. If it takes me a few tries to get it going, I can still pretend everything went according to plan later and keep my wilderness credibility intact.

Tyler rustles around in the tent with the occasional soft curse. As long as I don’t hear any yelling, I can assume things are going okay.

A few minutes later, I have the fire going, and Tyler joins me in the set of folding camp chairs. They’re nothing fancy. Simple blue fabric chairs with built-in cup holders, but they do the job. We both stare into the fire, watching as the sun goes down and leaves nothing but the light from the flames dancing across the campsite. We ate on the way here, but there are cookies I brought for us to much on. We spend the evening swapping stories from our childhood.

By the time we douse the fire and crawl into the tent, I can barely keep my eyes open. We change into our pajamas—at my insistence that it’s too cold to wear only boxer briefs to sleep—and slip into our sleeping bags. The only downside of this whole thing is that cuddling like this is challenging. He’s too far away, and there’s too much fabric between us.

Tyler wiggles next to me, then reaches his hand out and taps my sleeping bag. I free my arm and rearrange myself so I can take his hand. I drift off, listening to the sound of our breathing, holding on to him.