Chapter 16
16
RUBY
I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing. Did I really just invite Chuck to talk? What was I thinking? What am I even going to say?
Before I can formulate my next coherent thought, a loud groan emanates from the direction of the couch.
"Chuck? You okay over there?"
Another groan, followed by the sound of shifting fabric. "Yeah, just... this couch wasn't made for someone my size. I think my legs are becoming one with the armrest."
I bite my lip, considering. I'm about to do something either very kind or very stupid. Possibly both.
"Why don't you just come to the bed?" I blurt out.
Silence. Then, "I'm sorry, what?"
I sigh, already regretting this. "Look, even in the dark I can see you don't fit on that sofa. This bed is huge. We can just... put a pillow between us or something. It'll be fine."
"Are you sure?" Chuck's voice is hesitant, but I can hear the hope in it.
"Yeah, just... no funny business, okay? This is purely a humanitarian gesture."
I hear him chuckle as he gets up. "Scout's honor, Brooks. My funny business days are behind me."
The bed dips as Chuck settles in on the other side. I grab an extra pillow and plop it between us, creating a makeshift barrier. It's ridiculous, really. We're both adults. We can handle sleeping in the same bed without... anything happening.
Right?
"Thanks, Ruby," Chuck says. "My back appreciates it."
I grunt in response, not trusting myself to speak. This is fine. Totally normal. Just two acquaintances sharing a bed in a couples retreat in Costa Rica. Nothing weird about that at all.
"So," Chuck says after a moment, "still planning on bailing tomorrow?"
I nod, then realize he can't see me. "Yeah. First thing in the morning, I'm making travel arrangements. This whole thing was a mistake."
He's quiet for a moment. "Are you sure? I mean, you're all the way here..."
"I'm sure," I say, more firmly than I feel. "This isn't... what I signed up for."
Chuck sighs. "Yeah, I get it. It's not exactly what I had in mind either. Not that I really had anything in mind to begin with other than sand between my toes."
We lapse into silence, and I find myself hyper-aware of his presence next to me. The sound of his breathing, the faint scent of soap on his clean skin. It's... unsettling.
Suddenly, a soft blue glow illuminates the bed. I turn to see Chuck scrolling through his phone.
"Gotta check email before the internet goes down or something," he says.
I grab my own phone, grateful for the distraction. We spend the next few minutes in companionable silence, each absorbed in our own digital world.
Eventually, he yawns loudly. "Man, I'm about to drop off. Just need to hit the bathroom first."
He sits up, reaching for his phone to use as a flashlight. That's when everything goes sideways.
As the light beam sweeps across the mosquito netting surrounding the bed, I see them. Dozens of them. Huge, creepy, nightmare-inducing bugs clinging to the outside of the net.
I let out a strangled yelp, scrambling backwards until I hit the headboard. I think quickly and dive under the covers, pulling them clear over my head, where I hold the sheets so tight not even an ant could find its way in.
"What the fuck is all that?" Chuck hollers, his voice muffled through all the sheets.
"B-bugs," I stammer, peeking out from my hiding spot. "Big ones. Lots of them."
Chuck shines his light around, illuminating our unwelcome visitors. "Oh," he says, far too calmly for my liking. "Yeah, that's... a lot of bugs."
I pull the covers up to just under my eyes, as if anything could protect me from the insect apocalypse happening outside our netting. "This is not okay, Chuck. This is so far from okay."
He settles back onto the bed with a sigh. "Damn. Guess I’m waiting till morning to pee."
I turn to him, incredulous. "That's your biggest concern about this situation? Your full bladder?"
As he glances my way, he pushes his hair off his face. "Well, yeah. We're in the middle of a rainforest. The bugs were here first. We can’t just make them go away. These suckers come out at night. Apparently. Guess that’s when we humans are supposed to stay in ."
I know he's right. But logic has no place in a world where mosquitoes the size of small birds are eyeing me like I'm an all-you-can-eat buffet.
To my horror, I feel tears welling up in my eyes. This is too much. The mix-up with the retreat, sharing a room with Chuck, and now this bug situation. I'm at my breaking point.
"Hey," Chuck says, noticing my distress. "It's okay. They can't get through the netting. We're safe in here."
I sniffle, hating how pathetic I must sound. "I know. It's just... it's all so much."
To my surprise, I feel Chuck's hand reach across the pillow barrier, gently taking mine. His palm is warm. I like it, and my anxiety melts a little.
"I know," he says, his voice low and soothing. "This whole situation is crazy. But hey, look on the bright side. At least we're not dealing with it alone, right?"
I look at him, really look at him, for what feels like the first time. In the dim light from our phones, I can see the sincerity in his eyes, the curve of his smile. For a moment, I forget about the bugs, about the retreat mix-up, about everything except the warmth of my hand in his.
He’s a nice guy.
"Yeah," I whisper back, managing a small smile.
We stay like that for a while, hands linked across the pillow barrier, surrounded by the soft buzz of our uninvited guests. It's weird and uncomfortable and strangely consoling all at once.
As I feel myself drifting off to sleep, a traitorous thought crosses my mind. Maybe, just maybe, I don't want to leave tomorrow after all.
But that's probably just the sleep deprivation and bug-induced hysteria talking. Right?
The last thing I hear before sleep claims me is Chuck's soft voice.
"Goodnight, Ruby. Try not to let the bedbugs bite... or any of their giant cousins out there."
I can't help but chuckle, the tension of the evening falling away, if only temporarily. As I drift off, I'm uber-aware of Chuck's presence beside me, his hand still holding mine.
And as sleep finally overtakes me, I realize that maybe, just maybe, this unexpected turn of events isn't the worst thing that could have happened. After all, if I have to be trapped in a bug-infested paradise with someone, Chuck Newcomb might not be the worst company.
Not that I’ll ever admit that out loud. At least, not while I'm fully conscious.