Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
MELLIE
“Remind me who’s idea this was?”
A week ago, I was enjoying the cooler spring air in small doses, stopping into Double Shot for a hot coffee to escape the chill and grateful for the warmth of the diner. Now I’m shivering, unable to escape the cold, damp air because the pieces of my tent keep collapsing.
“I believe that was your dear brother,” Bree replies, gripping her windbreaker tighter around her torso while she watches me stoop down to wrestle the tent for the third time.
The rest of our group is gathered behind us, and I can feel their amusement.
“Apparently, he really wants to go see some waterfall nearby. Mellie, you sure you don’t need a hand with that?
” She doesn’t even bother trying to hide the cackle that escapes as a pole whacks me on the head.
I drop the pieces, stepping away with a huff. “I give up.”
Ronin’s chuckle drifts on the breeze over to where I stoop to pick up my water bottle. I take a swig, eyeing him over the top.
“Something funny, Ro?” I call.
He stands next to a perfectly pitched tent, an amused expression on his face as he watches me.
Evan and Catalina have also pitched the tent they’ll share on the other side of the clearing, and Brooklyn and Bree are working together to get theirs raised.
I don’t know what warped sense of independence possessed me to claim I could set mine up alone.
“You want some help, Mel?” Ronin calls back. “I’m happy to assist, if you ask nicely.”
I roll my eyes. “Get your ass over here and pitch my tent, please,” I reply, shooting him my sweetest smile.
He approaches the mess of tent pieces scattered in front of me. “What did this poor tent do to you to deserve this abuse?” Squatting down, he lifts a piece of canvas to inspect it.
“It’s not my fault this one has so many pieces,” I complain. “The last time I set up a tent, it was much smaller than this one.”
“Was it a toddler tent?”
I lightly smack him on the shoulder. “Can you fix it or not?”
Ronin stands to face me, the look on his face one of suppressed mirth. “Well, I would, but you somehow managed to snap one of the poles and tear the door flap.” He tries to hide his smile and fails. “That tent is useless.”
My stomach drops, mouth going dry as I realize what he’s about to say before it even escapes his mouth.
“Don’t worry, my tent is plenty large enough to sleep two. You can bunk with me tonight.” Ronin smirks, his dimples taunting me. His dark hair falls into his eyes, and his long fingers reach up to brush the strands out of his face.
I swallow, my throat parched. “Super,” I reply hoarsely.
Averting my gaze, I see Bree grinning at us like the fucking Cheshire Cat and narrow my eyes at her. What did that meddling best friend of mine do this time?
She shoots me a gleeful grin before turning back to help Brooklyn. I shake my head.
“Thanks,” I mumble in Ronin’s direction as I scoop up my backpack to deposit it into Ronin’s perfect tent, noting that it’s barely big enough for both of us to squeeze in.
This should be fun.
I duck back out. Evan and Ronin are setting up a handful of camping chairs in the center of our little campsite, arranged in a circle around the fire pit.
“Alright,” Evan says, rubbing his hands together. “Everything is all set up.” He peers up at the sky, checking his watch. “It’s a little late in the day for a hike, so maybe we save that for tomorrow instead.”
“So what you're saying is it’s drinking time!” Bree cheers.
Shivering, I pull on a windbreaker over the hoodie I have on, snuggling into the material to get warm. Brooklyn and Bree drag our cooler closer to where we sit and start handing out drinks as I take a seat, pulling a blanket over my shoulders.
Ronin busies himself starting a fire, and my eyes are drawn to him, watching him work.
His hair has been cut recently, its ends barely poking out of the bottom of the soft gray beanie he pulls over his head.
He’s wearing his glasses for the first time that I can remember since I came back to Blue Fields.
The sight of them makes the butterfly residents of my stomach emerge, fluttering to life.
I’m filled with a sudden wave of nostalgia.
Ronin in his glasses across the table from me, playing Magic.
Ronin in his glasses, leaning down to kiss me in his grandparent’s basement.
Ronin in his glasses, telling me that he loves me.
I shake myself out of that headspace, focusing once more on Ronin now. He’s dressed in black sweatpants and a dark navy hoodie, and he looks so cozy that I find myself yearning to be wrapped up in his warm arms instead of the blanket enveloping me.
Brooklyn offers me a hard seltzer and I thank her, popping the top open. The refreshing taste hits my tastebuds as I take a sip.
Once the fire is started, Ronin takes a seat to my right, settling into his chair with a contented sigh.
I offer him a beer, and his fingers brush mine as he grasps the bottle.
A tingle starting at my fingertips shoots up my arm, causing me to shiver involuntarily.
His eyes stay locked to mine as he brings the bottle to his mouth, taking a sip.
My pulse throbs; I can feel my heart in my throat.
What is with me and this man with beer bottles?
A peal of laughter sounds loudly causing me to jump. Cat giggles on Evan’s back as he runs circles around the clearing like a little kid.
He dumps her gently into a chair across the fire, and plops into the chair next to her, scooting it closer so they can hold hands.
“So,” Bree starts, tucking her legs under her petite frame. “Shall we play a drinking game to get this party started?”
Everyone agrees, so she starts, “Never have I ever…been arrested!” She glances around eagerly to see if any of us drink.
Crickets.
“Wow, we’re off to an exciting start,” I quip, laughing.
We go around the circle, each of us sharing a fact of something we haven’t done. If we have done it, we have to take a drink. Our answers range from the innocent to the spicy, and we are all in tears laughing at one point or another.
Bree and I drink to dying our hair. Ronin, Bree, and I drink to being the ones responsible for detergent in the town fountain. Evan and Cat drink to hooking up in a bar bathroom, and I groan while everyone else laughs.
“TMI!” I screech, covering my ears as Evan almost falls out of his chair, cracking up.
The evening passes, full of laughter and good food.
Ronin grills hot dogs over the fire for supper, and we all roast marshmallows for dessert as the sun slips behind the trees.
After a while, the two couples break off and head to their respective tents, turning in for the night.
Before I realize it, Ronin and I are the only ones left sitting around the dwindling fire.
I steal a glance at him in my peripheral. The small, dancing flames play across his face in the dim light. Shadows flicker around him and I find myself entranced as he lifts his beer to his lips.
He catches my eye and I flush at being caught staring. I clear my throat, sipping my drink for something to do.
“So,” Ronin breaks the silence, drawing out the word. “How are you doing, Mel?”
I tilt my head back, drinking in the stars in the inky sky above us. “I’ve been fine,” I reply. “Went wedding dress shopping with Cat last week. Turns out orange really isn’t my color.”
Ronin chuckles.
“Otherwise, mostly just working on my story.”
“And how is our favorite fated couple faring?” he inquires.
“They’re great…hypothetically. I haven’t gotten many words on the actual page yet. I’m struggling a little bit with where to start.”
I turn to him, and he gives me an encouraging smile.
“I know you’ll figure it out, Mel,” he says. “You’re the smartest person I know.”
I laugh. “Oh, I doubt that, but thank you.”
“I’m serious,” Ronin contends, his voice lowering. “You’re an amazing woman, Mel. I think you can do anything you set your mind to, and kick ass while doing it.” He pauses, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t you already know? I’m your biggest fan.”
When his gaze catches mine, I can’t look away.
I wait for him to wink or crack a joke to lighten the moment, but he doesn’t.
My heart is thudding so loud in my chest, I’m surprised he can’t hear it.
The tension makes my mouth feel dry, and when I lick my lips out of habit, Ronin’s eyes flick down, and his part slightly.
“Mel,” he whispers, still staring at my mouth.
“Ronin,” I whisper back. The firelight flickers in the reflection of his glasses.
His hand twitches, like he’s about to reach out for me but decides against it. His fingers tighten on the armrest of his chair, and he finally breaks his stare. He takes a swig of his beer before setting it down into the cup holder.
I let loose a breath, taking another sip of my own drink.
“It’s pretty late,” Ronin says, breaking the brief silence between us. “Do you want to go to bed?”
He still won’t look at me as he stands up to put out the small remainder of our fire.
I clear my throat. “Yes,” I say, my voice hoarse. “I’m ready for bed.”
I stand to help him clear away our empty bottles and cans and put away the trash. When everything has been cleaned up, we turn to face each other.
Why is this suddenly the most awkward moment of my life? It’s Ronin. I need to fucking chill.
Yes, but it’s Ronin, my brain tells me. Your best friend that you’re incredibly attracted to, in case you forgot.
I haven’t forgotten.