Chapter Twenty-Three
Kei is coming up the beach path. His eyes are on me, his expression inscrutable. I peer around him, expecting to see Alessandra trailing behind. But she’s not there. He’s alone, and he’s coming right for me.
He’s in front of me. He wraps his arms around my waist and lifts me up, squeezing me into him.
A sound escapes my mouth, a tearless sob, of relief, of surprise, of joy.
He lowers me gently down, and then he takes my face in both of his hands and kisses me, long and deep.
It’s not like our first kiss—there is nothing sweet or gentle about it.
This kiss is fuelled by longing, desire, and relief.
“It was always going to be you,” he whispers, right into my microphone. And then he’s kissing me again. The other campers cheer as Natasha announces us as an official couple, and Kei just keeps kissing me.
A lightness floods through me. Maybe Cori was right after all—I just had to trust. Maybe things really are about to change for me.
Or maybe—and this is the more likely scenario—Kei knows that the audience will eat this shit up, and I shouldn’t feel anything at all about it. All I have to do is play along.
Natasha announces that the POPPs who haven’t been chosen—that is, all of them, except for Sid—will be leaving immediately. I give Jesse a stiff hug, trying to ignore Alessandra, who is sobbing against Kei’s chest.
Once they’re gone, though, it’s like they were never here.
We do our chores, and then Gabby announces that there’s no afternoon challenge, so we head to the beach for an impromptu party.
The sun pours down, casting a honeyed glow on the scene.
The rosé is flowing, the mood is high, and with the POPPs out of the picture, electricity crackles between all the couples.
I’m lying on a blanket, letting the sun crisp my skin, when Harmony greets me with a freshly filled glass of rosé.
“If Gabby asks, you didn’t get it from me, okay?” I peer over Harmony’s shoulder to see Gabby pacing back and forth, talking on her phone in a hushed tone, looking comically suspicious. “She went off when I asked if we could get another bottle.”
“What’s with her?” I wrap my hand around my mic to muffle my complaint. I know I shouldn’t let my guard down, but I just can’t resist. “She was acting so sus when I was talking to McFarland.”
“Girl needs to get laid.” She leans in, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Do you think she’s getting dicked down by Tyler?”
“Oh my god, stop.”
“Do you think he keeps his skinny jeans on?”
“Harmony, no!” I cover my eyes, as if that will erase the mental image.
“Oohh, Tyler,” she moans, rolling her hips, running her hands down her ribs, “gimme that D, Tyler.”
We collapse into one another, laughing, and speak of the freaking devil, Tyler appears at the entrance of the beach path. We immediately stifle our laughter.
“Hey everyone, say goodbye to Mr. McFarland.”
The Silver Fox catches my eye and winks. He waves goodbye to the group, and we all wave back as they turn to head up the path.
As soon as they turn their backs, we start laughing again, the image of Tyler pounding into Gabby with his skinny jeans around his ankles proves too much to handle.
“Hey, check it out.” Harmony points toward the fire pit, where someone has planted a guitar in Kei’s hands. He smiles at me as he starts to strum some chords.
I breathe in the moment. The sky is streaked with pink and orange. Kei’s clear, warm voice rings out, and all of the people around the campfire—these random strangers I now call my friends—their faces are soft and bright with contentment.
Has anything ever been this easy?
We’re just finishing an epic rendition of “American Pie” when a familiar sound rings out from the direction of the camp.
“Was that the bell?” Trina says. We look at one another, questioning, but no one speaks. We wait and listen. And then, this time there is no mistaking it.
“Lord help me if this is another surprise,” Sue-Ellen mutters, as we make our way up the path to the flagpole. Kei squeezes my hand. If we got through the POPPs, we can get through anything.
There is no one at the flagpole to greet us. In fact, there is no one anywhere—no camera crew milling around, no Natasha, no Tyler or Gabby. But there is something on the ground, leaning against the base of the flagpole.
Isa jogs over and picks it up. It’s an oversized old-fashioned Air Mail envelope, with blue and red stripes around the edges.
“It’s for you,” he says, handing it to Kei.
He takes it, and then holds it out for me to see. On the front, in scrawling cursive, it says “Cleo and Kei.”
“Open it!” Trina cries, clapping.
Kei pulls out an oversized card. It has a drawing of a tree, with heart-shaped ornaments dangling from its branches, and what appears to be a pair of lovebirds nesting in it. Written in the same scrawling cursive are the words “You’re invited.”
He opens the card to find the handwritten message.
“Cleo and Kei,” he reads aloud. “America has been voting, and they have declared you as the couple ‘Most Likely to Last’ at Camp Couple-Up.” I gasp and turn to Kei.
His face is lit up. “You are invited to celebrate your win at the Treehouse!” I scream, and all the girls join me, even though no one knows what the Treehouse is.
Kei continues. “The Treehouse is the only place in all of Camp Couple-Up where there are no cameras, no microphones, and no other people. You will have a night of complete privacy.” At this, the boys start whooping and clapping Kei on the back.
“The Treehouse opens in thirty minutes. Do you accept the invitation?”
Kei picks me up and swings me around. “Yes!” he’s saying, laughing. His eyes meet mine. “Yes?” he asks me.
“Yes,” I say, aiming to match his enthusiasm. But the truth is, I’m terrified. A night alone with Kei. No cameras. Free to do and say whatever we want. It feels dangerous.
“Come on,” says Harmony, pulling me by the arm. “Girl, you need lingerie!”
An hour later, I’m freshly showered, with my hair blown out, and my face made up into a sun-kissed glow.
I’m wearing Harmony’s least revealing lingerie option, a pale pink silk chemise with a matching robe.
Flanked by the girls, I go back to the flagpole to meet Kei.
He’s surrounded by the guys, who clear the way for me as I approach. I watch him take me in.
“You look beautiful,” he says, kissing my cheek.
“Thanks. You’re looking pretty fine yourself.”
And he is. He’s wearing a classic men’s pyjama set made of navy silk with white trim. The shirt hangs open, exposing a strip of his golden-brown chest. What would it be like to lick that patch of chest?
Nope, put that thought away.
We follow Teddy, the camera guy, to the beach and then onto a path I’ve never noticed before. He assures us he’s just there to film the first moments in the Treehouse, and then he’ll be out of our way.
Unlike the rest of the camp, the Treehouse is beautiful.
Even though it’s a simple structure made from wood planks, the fact that it’s a new build makes it feel luxurious.
It’s only slightly bigger than the bed it contains, but the beauty is in the details.
White fairy lights hang in a crisscross pattern from the beams that make up the ceiling, casting a warm, sexy glow.
A cluster of ivory coloured pillar candles of varying sizes flank each side of the bed.
On one bedside table, a bottle of Prosecco chills in a sweating ice bucket, and on the other, there is a platter of fresh fruit.
The bed is a queen-sized mattress adorned with a fluffy white duvet and a stack of colourful throw pillows, and looks like it’s made for rolling around in all night. A warm flush passes over me as I imagine us in it, followed by a pang of regret that Kei and I will do nothing but sleep in that bed.
Teddy captures some footage of us for what I imagine to be a montage—feeding one another grapes, linking arms and sipping Prosecco, having a pillow fight. I try to keep it light and sexy, but my chest burns with anxiety.
“I just need the ‘under the covers’ shot and then I’ll get out of your way,” he says, switching out the lens on his camera.
Kei and I look at one another. “You know,” Teddy continues, “that shot where you guys are kissing in bed and then you pull the covers up over your heads. You’ve seen it before. ”
Kei exhales slowly, then gives me a look as if to say are you ready?
I nod. He lowers himself down first, lying on his side with his legs stretched out long. He pulls the duvet back, making a space for me. I crawl in, pulling my robe tight around me. Even though it covers far more than my bikini, I’m feeling very exposed.
“Go ahead with the kiss,” Teddy instructs.
Kei cradles my chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting my head up toward him. His mouth is arranged in a soft smile, but his eyes are dark with something I can’t quite read.
And then his lips are on mine. The shock of it causes my breath to catch in my throat. But then he pushes the full length of his body against mine, and I feel everything else in the world fade away.
“Beautiful, beautiful,” I hear Teddy say, as if from far away. “Now Kei, turn Cleo onto her back and pull the covers over your heads.”
Without breaking the kiss, Kei does as he’s told, rolling so that he’s partially on top of me.
I wrap my leg around his, pulling him in closer.
The world darkens as the duvet covers us, bringing us into our own private sphere.
I grab his ass and raise my hips up to meet his, a shock of desire moving through me as I feel how much he wants me.