21. Elouise
Elouise
“So…” Rebecca drags out the word as she steps into stride alongside me.
I can feel my cheeks blush and she hasn’t even asked a question. “So, what?” I play dumb even though I know what’s coming.
“So,” she bumps her shoulder into mine, “I woke up super early having to pee.”
“That’s a little TMI.”
She ignores me, “And as I was walking back to Bob’s tent, I saw someone crawling out of your tent.” She pauses, being dramatic. “But it wasn’t you.”
I bite my lip.
That answers the question of when Beckett left.
All I know is that I slept like the dead and then woke up alone, but surprisingly warm.
And I’m not sure if I should attribute that last fact to the expensive sleeping bags, Beckett’s body heat or the fact that my blood was sizzling all night from knowing he was there.
Right. Freaking. There.
“Oh come on!” Rebecca hisses at me, “you have got to give me details!” She glances around, making sure that no one is close enough to hear us. “That man is so hot it hurts my eyes. Please tell me his dick is just as good looking. ”
I can’t stop the laugh that spills out of me. It’s laced with guilt and embarrassment, even though I only saw the outline.
Rebecca groans, “It is, isn’t it?”
I shake my head, “I don’t know.” I lift my hand to forestall her, “We didn’t,” I glance around this time, “have sex.” The last two words are a whisper.
We’re in the middle of a hike, led by Mr. So Hot himself, but thankfully everyone seems to be lost in their own conversations.
After another harrowing shower experience, using that same damn shirt as a towel, I took my coffee to my tent and tried my hardest to make myself presentable. Which makes no sense, since I’ve spent the entire day avoiding Beckett.
I couldn’t even tell you what we were learning about during the first part of the day, because my brain was constantly spiraling back to my night with Beckett.
My night with Beckett. Just thinking about it has me flushing from my face to my toes.
Which is ridiculous because all we did was sleep.
And I mean, sure, we were cuddled together, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.
You can cuddle with friends. You can cuddle when you’re stuck outdoors and you’re trying to stay alive through joined body heat.
It could’ve been totally innocent for him.
But… What if I drooled all over him? Or talked in my sleep? Or, oh god, what if I farted in my sleep but he was still awake and heard it?! What if that’s why he left without waking me?!
“Elouise,” Rebecca jabs me with her elbow, “spill.”
Now I can’t stop worrying about it!
I keep my voice low and lean closer to Rebecca, “Do guys care if women fart?”
The laugh that bursts out of her is so loud I nearly trip over my next step.
Everyone, and I mean everyone , turns to look at us.
I plaster on my biggest smile, “It’s fine! Nothing to see here! Keep on going!” I don’t dare look Beckett’s way because I’m positive he’s staring along with everybody else.
Rebecca’s stopped – hunched over, hands on her knees, gasping for breath – so I wave for the campers behind us to pass, “Go ahead, we’ll catch up!”
I keep the fake smile pasted on my face until the last person passes.
My cheeks are burning when I poke Rebecca in the side, “You done?”
She looks up at me and falls into laughter all over again. It’s annoying, but infectious, and I feel myself smiling for real this time.
“Sorry, sorry.” Rebecca wipes the tears off her face, “Okay, give me context. Was it when he was going down on you or was it during sex?”
It takes me a second to realize what she’s asking. “What?! Oh my god!” I start to laugh- she thinks I farted on him during sex. “That’s not-” realizing how bad it could’ve been I crack up even harder.
It feels like several minutes later when we catch our breath.
Rebecca grins at me, “Girl, I needed that.”
I roll my eyes with a snort, “Glad I could be of service.”
“But seriously, why would you have asked me… that ?” she widens her eyes.
“I don’t know,” I let out a big exhale. “You mentioned seeing him sneaking out of the tent and so my brain started going over all the possible things that I could’ve done in my sleep to scare him off.”
“And sleep farting was the best you could come up with?” Rebecca chuckles again, “It’s the morning after, of course he snuck out. That’s what you do after… whatever it is that you guys did.”
“It was nothing.” When she lifts a brow, I hold my hands up, “I’m serious. We didn’t do anything.”
“But he did spend the night with you, right?”
“He did.”
She lifts a brow, “And he just knocked on the tent flap and asked if he could come in to talk all night?”
“Uh, no. He…” All of the sudden the first part of the night slams back into my brain. I can’t believe I forgot all about that part! “He caught Adam, one of the dads, trying to get into our tent?”
She rears back, “What?”
“Yeah…” I tell her the whole story. About thinking it was her coming back.
About Adam opening the tent, and Beckett dragging him out.
About Beckett coming back with all the blankets.
And making the be d. And making me get into the bed.
And taking his jeans off and me staring at the outline of his dick in his underwear.
“I knew it!” Rebecca pumps a fist.
“I didn’t see it,” I argue, “and it’s not like it was erect.”
We stare at each other for a moment before we both snicker. I can’t believe I just used that word.
“And you’re seriously telling me that you didn’t do anything? That you had Big Beckett in the same sleeping bag with you and you didn’t even kiss him?”
I shrug, “We cuddled.”
Her brows shoot up, disappearing under the edge of her hat, “That stud cuddles?”
Biting my lip, I nod.
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
“But he was gone when I woke up,” I reminded her.
She waves that off, “Don’t read into that. He probably had to get up early to get the fire going and prep for the day.”
“I suppose.” I mull it over and realize she’s probably right.
“Or…” her head tilts, “maybe- you gassed him out of the tent.”
She’s cackling when she jumps out of my reach and races up the trail.