Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
I don’t walk the next day. I glide around the campsite on fumes of pure joy. Charlie returned to his own cabin when I left for sunrise yoga, but not before offering me a departing kiss that turned my organs to jelly.
At breakfast, Angela is the first to identify a change in my demeanor. “I see someone used the self-care package I gave her.”
“I most certainly did.” I leave out Charlie’s involvement. No need to sacrifice myself to the gossip goddess.
Gloria slides onto the bench beside me. “You’d better hide unless you want to crochet penises all day. Esther is wrangling anybody she can. Her deadline is looming and she’s still short a couple dozen dicks.”
“I mean, who isn’t?” Angela quips. “I don’t mind handling a few. It’ll be the most action I’ve gotten all week.”
I text Charlie a warning to avoid Esther and to let him know I’ll be spending the morning at the lake teaching Olivia how to kayak, not that I think he needs to know my every move, of course. It’s a small camp; he’ll figure it out.
Angela continues to scrutinize my face. “Something else is different about you today.”
My stomach churns. She can’t possibly tell I’ve had sex with Charlie by looking at me, can she? Then again, if anyone were to have Sex-Ray vision, my money is on Angela.
She snaps her fingers. “I know what it is.”
My mouth opens, ready to play defense.
“You’re not wearing your glasses,” Angela finishes.
“Oh, right. They’re fashion frames. I don’t actually need them to see.”
Unlike Charlie’s reaction to that little nugget, my friends remain unbothered.
“Such a pretty color,” Angela remarks. “A little smoky eyeliner would go a long way. We should experiment.”
“We should.” I down my cup of tea and extricate myself from the table. “I’ll see you ladies later. I’m going to change before I meet Olivia and Ben at the lake.”
“Don’t change that smile,” Angela says with a wink. “Your skin is glowing. That cucumber mask does wonders.”
I touch my heated cheek. “Sure does.”
There is a sway to my hips as I saunter to my cabin and swap my terrycloth shorts and T-shirt for a swimsuit.
I slather on sunscreen, still grinning stupidly, which I only notice when I catch my reflection in the bathroom mirror.
My hair is tousled, and my eyes are clear and bright.
This is who Charlie sees when he looks at me.
I wave to the woman in the mirror. To me. She looks happy.
I love that for her.
I hurry to the dock, where Olivia and Ben are waiting.
“I think I’ll sit this one out,” Ben says. “Mind if I wait at the picnic table, Liv?”
“You don’t have to stay,” Olivia tells him. “Stefan said they’re painting those figurines for the tabletop game in the craft cabin.”
I raise a finger. “Actually, you might want to steer clear of the craft cabin today. Text Gloria. She’ll tell you.”
I help Olivia into the kayak and settle behind her.
My face grows hot as I remember last night.
In the harsh glare of daylight, it seems surreal that Charlie and I were alone in the lake, naked and kissing in the moonlight.
It felt like we’d teleported to a magical bubble where we were the only two people in the world.
But I wasn’t with Charlie now; I was with Olivia, whose enthusiasm for kayaking seems to fade after the first twenty minutes.
“It’s hot out here,” she moans.
“Did you put on sunscreen?”
“Yes, Mom,” she says in a tone that can only be accompanied by an eye roll. Her awkward paddling slows until she reaches a full stop.
“Everything okay?”
She twists to look at me. “I’m bored, and I feel sweaty and gross. Can I swim instead?”
“If you’d rather. Let’s get closer to shore first.” I paddle us to the dock, and she crawls out of the kayak and onto the wooden planks with movements that would outcreep the girl in The Ring .
“This is how I’d scare away a boy who’s bothering me,” she shares.
As I applaud her acting chops, I catch sight of someone loping toward the shoreline.
Mid-thirties with a long, lean build. Light brown hair that’s a tad overgrown and swoops over his eye.
The clapping comes to an abrupt halt. My heart lodges in my throat as I watch him flip it back in a familiar gesture.
I thought I’d never see him again, yet here he is in the flesh.
Patrick.
There’s nowhere to hide on top of a kayak. I push the end of the paddle into the water and try to turn the kayak around so that I’m facing away from shore. In my haste, I jerk too fast and end up tipping to the side, hurling myself into the lake. At least the water is warm.
I stay behind the kayak and use it as a shield. The Prick has stopped to talk to Ben, joined by Olivia, who seems to have abandoned her plan to swim. If I can stay here long enough, maybe he won’t be there when I come ashore.
A head surfaces beside me, and I release a high-pitched scream.
“Hey, it’s me.” Charlie peels a wet strand of hair off my face. “Why are you hiding behind an overturned kayak?”
“Because Patrick is here. The Prick.” I hear the painful crack in my voice. I’d hoped if this day ever came that I would be A-okay, but I’m not. I’m truly not.
“Here as in the lake? Did you accidentally drown him?” He uses air quotes around ‘accidentally.’
“There’d be nothing accidental about it.” I peek around the side of the kayak. “He’s talking to Ben.”
Charlie squints in that direction. “He has a punchable face.”
“Agreed.”
I’m surprised to see the punchable face chatting so easily to Ben, the older man he once described as “less interesting than a doorknob.” That should’ve been my first clue that he wasn’t the man I believed he was. I saw him as Edward Ferrars when he was Willoughby all along.
Charlie’s head continues to bob beside mine. “He’s shorter than I am.”
That elicits a smile from me. “How can you tell from here?”
“He looks about two inches taller than Ben, and I’m three inches taller than Ben.” Charlie’s brow ripples with concern. “Why would he show up now? Camp is over in a few days.”
“I’m sure he has his reasons.” Self-serving ones, of course.
“Want to find out what they are?”
“Not really.”
Charlie observes me. “What’s your plan? Stay here until your skin shrivels?”
That doesn’t sound particularly appealing. “Maybe.”
“Do you mind if I talk to him?”
“Please don’t. He’s like a toddler. If we ignore him, maybe he’ll go away.”
“I don’t think that’s how toddlers operate.”
I steel myself. “I’m going to exit the lake in stealth mode.”
“Does that just mean no splashing?”
“And I go alone.”
I swim to the shore as far away from the picnic area as I can get, staying underwater like a human submarine until I hit the shallows, where I flee the water and make a beeline for my cabin.
I jump straight into the shower and rinse the seaweed from my hair.
I may not want him back, but I still don’t want Patrick to see me drenched in lake sludge.
As I step out of the shower, I hear a knock on the door. No doubt Charlie followed me. I squeeze the excess water from my hair, then hurriedly wrap a towel around me.
“One second!” I dart to the door and fling it open.
“There she is. My favorite insect.” Patrick opens his arms wide, like he’s greeting an old friend. “Been a long time.”
The Prick looks more attractive than he has any right to. Why can’t people bear external evidence of their assholery? Not a scarlet letter, of course—I wouldn’t be in favor of that—but maybe an ugly wart or other mark that denotes a person of poor character or a lack of integrity.
Patrick Faraday would be covered in warts.
My shoulders snap into place. “What are you doing here?”
He leans a casual arm against the doorjamb. “What do you mean? I registered like everybody else.”
“You didn’t show up, same as last year, so I’m afraid I gave your spot to someone else.” I’m so focused on not falling apart at the seams that I forget about the seam of my towel.
Patrick’s gaze dips to my chest beneath the paper-thin material as I yank the towel closed. “You look exactly the same as I remember.”
If I had a free hand, I’d shove him. Unfortunately, both hands are required to keep my coverage in place. “Why don’t I get dressed and then we can discuss your registration in my office?” There. Professional line drawn.
“I don’t mind waiting right here.”
“Maybe not, but I do.”
How dare he show his face here again. I slam the door shut and realize my body is shaking.
I take a few deep breaths, my hands continuing to tremble as I put on clothes and whip my wet hair into a ponytail.
I hope he’s gone by the time I emerge from the cabin.
The campground is bad enough; I don’t want him in my personal space.
I changed cabins after his last summer here so that I wasn’t haunted by memories of him in my private quarters.
It doesn’t help that all the cabins look nearly identical.
I open the door to see Patrick hasn’t left.
I cradle my arms in front of me to block any attempt at an embrace.
I don’t want to touch him. I don’t even want to breathe the same air as him, but sadly I lack that kind of control over the universe.
Otherwise, Patrick would’ve transformed into a praying mantis that ended up having his head chewed off after sex.
“Camp started over a week ago, Patrick.”
“Yeah, sorry. Something came up, but I’m here now.”
I’m a deer in headlights. A hand in the cookie jar. I want to make like a tree and leave, but my feet are rooted to the ground. I release a sigh of relief when I see Charlie striding toward us. My phone is also lighting up with text messages. Word must’ve spread like Patrick’s genital warts.
“Hi, Charlie.”
The Prick offers his hand to Charlie. “Patrick Faraday. Nice to meet you.”
“Charlie Thorpe.”
“You must be my replacement.”
I don’t want the two of them engaged in conversation. “Patrick, I’ll be happy to refund your money, minus an administrative fee.”