Chapter 29
twenty-nine
Tripp flung my backpack over his shoulder and shut the Jeep door. I glanced at the lake and smiled as the breeze tickled my cheek. Despite my mini panic attack at the thought of camping on an island, I was glad the camping trip was finally happening. I was looking forward to roasting marshmallows and staring at the stars.
“Is Liam meeting us at the campsite?” I asked.
Tripp shook his head. “He said something about food poisoning and not wanting to be far from a toilet. I didn’t ask for details.”
“So, they’re both sick?” I asked Tripp, my voice tinged with disbelief. Ava woke up this morning with a stomach bug. She’d refused to let me in her room to check on her. Now Liam? This was starting to feel like a setup, a twist in our plans that I hadn't anticipated.
“It will just be us?” My attempt to sound cool failed. My voice trembled, giving away my nerves. I’d already been worried about camping on the island, and now it would just be the two of us. Alone. In a tent.
“If that’s okay? We don’t have to do this.” His hopeful tone made it clear that while we didn’t have to camp alone together, he very much wanted to. “We can leave now if you want.”
“No, we do need to capture more footage, right?” I asked. After all, this whole outing was for the sake of the campaign and content. Tripp nodded, and I followed him down the dock to the small pontoon boat he kept docked at the lake.
He helped me into the boat, bracing my arm in his. His touch sent a warm shiver down my spine.
“I don’t love boats,” I said.
“You did list that as one of your fears. This one doesn’t go fast, and I promise to drive responsibly. There are life jackets in that chest back there.” He pointed to the back of the boat. “We’ll only be on the boat for about forty-five minutes.”
“Then we set up camp and try not to get eaten by bears or tracked by serial killers.”
Laughing, he shook his head and said, “Then we set up camp, start a nice little fire, cook dinner, and roast marshmallows while we watch the sunset over the lake.”
“And tell ghost stories?”
“I have a feeling that would be a terrible idea, given your propensity to catastrophize.”
“Oh, I’m not scared of ghosts.”
“No?”
“I don’t believe in them.”
“So, you’re not afraid of the dark?”
“I’m terrified of the dark, but mostly because of the animal and human threats. Reality is far scarier than any ghost story.”
“I can’t argue with that logic.” He sat behind the steering wheel and patted the seat next to him. I clicked the lifejacket on and sat beside him. Holding my breath as he backed out of the dock, I debated changing my mind. It wasn’t just the boat that scared me; it was the prospect of almost twenty-four hours alone with him.
We’d all planned to share a four-person tent, which was scary enough. Now, it would just be Tripp and me alone in that tent. No Ava or Liam to distract or get between us. We’d be sleeping next to each other, but this time, I had full use of both my hands and no pain medication to knock me out. Maybe, just maybe, I’d finally know what his kiss tasted like. My fear melted into desire at the thought.
We reached the island and secured the pontoon into place. There was another boat a bit down the shoreline but no sign of its occupants. Maybe we wouldn’t be completely alone, I thought with a mixture of relief and disappointment. The campsite was a short hike from the beach. Tripp carried the tent, cooler, and backpack. I’d offered to carry something, but he shrugged off the suggestion and helped me into my backpack. When we reached the campsite, it was empty. He got to work setting up the tent. I tried to be helpful, but I knew nothing about tents or campfires. We made small talk while he took care of turning the little piece of land into a home for the night. We gathered wood and sticks to build our fire.
“Seriously, what can I do to help?” I asked. “Not that I don’t enjoy watching you do all the work, but there has to be some way for me to contribute.”
He flexed his arm, demonstrating the cooler's weight. “Thanks for noticing.”
“Kind of hard not to when you’re out here sweating and lifting all that heavy wood.” He smirked and raised his eyebrows. Heat rushed over my face. “I didn’t mean it …not like that.”
“I’m just messing with you, Sadie. If you really want to do something more than admire my efforts, you can get the sleeping bags and everything set up inside the tent. I have a portable heater just in case the temperature drops tonight.”
I hurried into the tent, avoiding further eye contact or embarrassment. Inside, the tent felt both spacious and cramped. I unrolled his sleeping bag and placed it to the far right. I set mine up next to his. I’d also packed a small pillow and an extra blanket. I laid those out on top of the sleeping bag. I glanced around the spacious tent and smiled at how little space our things took up. Then, I scooted my stuff closer to his. I nodded with satisfaction and joined him by the pile of sticks that would become the fire.
Tripp pulled a lighter from his pocket and held a piece of paper to it. “Whoa! Cheater,” I said, tsking.
“It’s not cheating—it’s knowing the game.”
“And here I thought you were this outdoorsy manly man who made fire with his bare hands.”
He nestled the burning paper beneath the pyramid of wood and sticks. “I can do that for you if you’d like another show of me and my wood skills.”
Once again, a flush of pink danced over my cheeks. I decided to change the subject. “So, what’s for dinner? Wieners?” What was wrong with me? “Hot dogs? I meant hot dogs.”
Tripp laughed. He took a tentative step toward me. “You seem a little nervous.”
“I am,” I admitted. “I've never roasted marshmallows or slept outside.”
“Are you sure it’s the camping that has your cheeks turning that delightful shade of pink?”
“Yes, definitely the camping,” I said, averting my gaze away from him. His boots crunched over the ground as he inched closer. When he was close enough to touch, I instinctively reached for him. “No, it’s not the camping.”
“Do you want to talk?” He placed his fingers under my chin and tilted my head back. I let my gaze drift back to his face. When our eyes met, a fire burned between us. No, I didn’t want to talk. I’d wasted enough time on words and worrying. I shook my head. “What do you want?”
“You.” The answer fell from my lips before I could stop them. My heart raced wildly in my chest. “I want to stop overthinking this and us. I want you to kiss me. I want to kiss you. I want this to be about more than content. I want me to shut up and stop making excuses.”
His face inched closer to mine. I closed my eyes and tilted my head further back, inviting him in. The warmth of his breath tickled my forehead. I sucked in a deep breath and held it, waiting. His lips brushed over the tender skin of my cheek. I turned to meet him, eager and ready for more. A soft sigh escaped my lips as his arms slid around my waist and pulled me closer to him. I melted against him. His lips hovered over mine. My lips parted slightly in anticipation. He leaned in, closing the distance between us.
“Excuse me,” a voice barked over the crackle of the fire. I jumped back, pulling away from Tripp. His hand wrapped around my arm, pulling me behind him. He stood between me and the burly man in front of us. A group of four men stood behind him. How long had they been standing there? And why did they have to show up now ? “Sorry to interrupt, but we seem to be out of gas. You don’t have any extra, do you?”
“Boat gas? Yeah, I’ve got a few extra gallons on the boat. How much do you need?” Tripp asked, his voice thick. I slipped my hand into his and squeezed.
“A gallon or so should get us back to the dock. Thanks, man.”
It took us about twenty minutes to walk back to the boat and retrieve the gas. Tripp helped them fill up their boat. We stood and watched as they drove back toward the dock. By the time we made it back to the campsite, the sun was already starting to dip back into the horizon.
“Well, that was unfortunate timing,” he said, laughing. He raked his hand through his hair. “Ready for dinner?”
“Great.” Whatever moment we’d been having before the interruption was gone. We settled into the chairs he’d placed by the fire and worked on roasting the hot dogs. Dinner wasn’t fancy, but it hit the spot. Hot dogs, chips, and s’mores for dessert.
I held my marshmallow over the flames and waited for it to catch fire. Marshmallows tasted best when they’re burnt to a crisp. Despite the fire, there was enough of a chill in the air to make my teeth chatter. I blew out the flame on the marshmallow and placed it between the chocolate and graham crackers.
“Want to take those inside the tent?” Tripp asked, noticing the chill.
“Is it warmer in there?”
“It should be; I turned on the heater when you went to find the bathroom.” He laughed.
“You mean the tree to pee behind? That was a first for me.”
“It’s a rite of passage, really.”
“One I could’ve done without.” I shivered again.
Tripp stood and held out his hand. I took it and followed him into the tent. I took a small bite of the s’more before tossing it into the small trash bag he’d tied to the side of the tent. Marshmallow stuck to my lips. I started to wipe it away, but his hand caught mine before I could.
“I’d like a taste,” he said. His voice was husky and thick with desire. He wrapped his fingers around my wrist and pulled me toward him. I fell into his chest, letting him wrap his arms around my waist. I leaned my head back and offered my lips to him.
This time, he didn’t tease or hesitate. His mouth closed over mine. The first kiss was gentle and tender. His full lips lingered for a moment, and then he pulled back, grinning down at me. I raised to my tiptoes to close to distance between us. I needed more. I pressed into him, and he stumbled back. Without a sturdy wall to break our fall, he sank to the ground, pulling me down with him. I settled onto his lap, straddling my legs around his waist. His hands fell to my hips, pulling me to him. We were eye to eye. I leaned forward and rested my forehead against his.
“Is this okay?” he asked. I didn’t answer. Instead, I took his face in my hands. Tilting my head, I reeled him in and brushed my lips over his, parting them and inviting him in. His tongue danced over my lips. I slipped my fingers through his hair. A soft moan escaped his lips. Heat flooded my senses, intoxicating me. This was more than okay. This was everything. He was everything.
“Tripp,” I whispered his name and pulled back.
“Sadie?” His eyes were still closed. He leaned forward in an attempt to reclaim my lips. I gave in. Whatever I had to say could wait. I couldn’t even remember what had been so important.
I turned my attention back to his lips and leaned into him. His arms brought me closer and I fell into him, giving him every ounce of myself I had to give.