Epilogue #2
I was a fit man and took care of my health as much as I could given my work schedule, but even that had its drawbacks. There were only so many trails in Ellington Heights I could run before I began to go stir crazy.
Hence the need for a change.
“For the millionth time, yes. Can you get off my dick about it?”
On the other end of the phone, Silas scoffed. “You can’t expect me not to worry about you. You’re going to a fucking wilderness camp where there’s mountain lions and bears around. It would be shitty of me not to worry about you.”
While he had a point, his loud opinion about it certainly wasn’t what I wanted to hear. This year, I was on a mission to better my health—to get myself into the best shape of my life and have fun doing it. As wild of a concept as it was to do just that at a wilderness camp, I didn’t care.
Not if it kept me from keeling over like my late pops.
“Thank you for caring about me,” I said.
The zipper to my bag only barely stayed together, the opposite side of it bulging with how much stuff I’d managed to cram into the small carry-on sized case.
In the welcome packet that had been sent to me a week prior, there were hardly any specifics on what I was supposed to be bringing along with me, outside of the basic toiletries.
Which left liberty for creative freedom.
“Wow, try not to sound like you’re being held at gunpoint next time.”
“Don’t you have lives to save? An organ to stitch back together perhaps?”
“Nope.” He let out a grunt that slowly morphed into a deep sigh. “Got the next forty-eight hours off. Lucky me.”
Was it really luck if he’d been on a nine-day rotation before this?
While I admired Silas’s work and his chosen career path, the life of a surgeon typically sounded like torture to me. Even on the good days where he got to brag about attaching some kid’s limb back onto their body.
“Though, I’m sure you’ll be calling me your first night there,” he said, his tone slipping from that usual nonchalant tone to one that never failed to instigate me. “You’ll see one bug bite on your skin and end up losing your mind because you’ll convince yourself it was a snake bite instead.”
What the hell was with the stray balls?
I got that he was pissy I was leaving him for six weeks, but damn, he didn’t have to go for my jugular like that. At least Avery had the decency to sound happy for me, even if he, too, didn’t get my decision to go.
I wasn’t looking for understanding, I was looking for support. Simple as that.
“How much?” I said.
“What?”
“How much are we betting? Seeing as you’re so confident I’m going to come crying to you on day one.”
“Night one,” he corrected. “And you definitely will. Or at least, in the first week.”
“How. Much,” I gritted through my teeth.
The other end of the phone was silent for a moment, allowing me to finish the rest of my packing while he continued to devise what was probably a very diabolical punishment for me if I was to actually lose this.
Ironic, seeing as how my toxic trait was being competitive as fuck. Turning it into a superpower for my job was the ultimate fuck you to the universe and subsequently everyone else who dared to think they’d be good enough to win against me.
Finances were a game played on a massive scale where the stakes were the difference between buying a second vacation home or getting evicted and kicked out onto the streets. The potential to ruin someone else’s life simply by making one wrong move was thrilling if not downright boner inducing.
But I digress.
“It’s an IOU,” he finally said.
Raising my brow, I repeated. “IOU?”
“You remember what it stands for?”
If only I could reach through the phone and strangle him. The worst part is that he’d probably like it.
“What are the parameters of this IOU?”
“The usual. One favor at any time, any place, anywhere. Winner gets to choose the timeline on when the favor needs to be redeemed by.”
“Fine,” I said, hauling my bag off of my bed in order to swing it around and dump it next to my door. “You’ve got yourself a deal. I look forward to proving you wrong.”
“Me too. Though, I doubt you will.”
Oh, he was so lucky he wasn’t standing right next to me. “Goodbye, Silas.”
“Call me before you lose service. So I know where to send the forest rangers when they have to come rescue you.”
Rolling my eyes, I slammed my thumb down on the ‘end’ icon and tossed my phone onto my bed.
What was it with surgeons and being giant asswipes?
It had to have been taught somewhere in medical school: ‘how to be a douche 101’.
Or maybe it was an upper level class. A real 304.
Whatever. I wasn’t about to let him get in my head about this. I’d made my decision weeks ago when I’d signed up and sent in my yearly physical for medical approval. Surviving a wilderness camp for the next six weeks was going to be fine.
I was going to be fine.
All that I’d walk out of there with was probably a mild case of poison ivy and a whole favor richer.
Ah, I could taste the sweet victory lap I’d be doing now while Silas got to eat his words—both metaphorically and physically, because the second I got back from this trip, I was going to make him write down his doubts and then force feed it to him.
A real, put your money where your mouth is type scenario.
Cruel?
Maybe, but he started it.
Good thing I was happy to end it.
My phone chimed with my alarm, reminding me that I needed to get in my car and head over to the pickup site, pronto.
Grabbing my phone and my bag up off the floor, I slung it over my shoulder and gave my bedroom one last cursory glance before shutting off the light and leaving it, and the rest of my problems, behind for the next six weeks.