Chapter 15
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
Quinn
I zip the tent closed, cutting off the outside world.
It’s cooler in here, only because we’re farther away from the heat source, and my main focus is getting her inside the sleeping bag to get warm.
She looks tired, more so than normal. I’m sure she worked a lot of hours today before coming out here.
When she arrived, she was her normal, sassy self, but as the hours went on, she became quiet and looked worn out.
But even then, sitting and chatting with her has been the best part of my day.
Charli rarely opens up to me. I get it, I’m not her friend, per se.
I’m Camden’s confidante. So for her to sit with me for nearly an hour and discuss everything from her day, my work, the latest book she read…
well, that means more to me than anything has in a long time.
It’s as if an olive branch was extended, and I grabbed on, not wanting to let go.
“Uhhh, we don’t have your stuff,” I state unnecessarily.
I can already tell she has realized her belongings and bedding are in her brother’s tent about ten feet away.
“I can go get them.” Not that I want to go knock on my buddy’s tent when he’s probably getting laid—or on his way to doing so—but she needs her stuff.
“No, I’ll be fine,” she mutters.
I spin around to my stuff and start rooting through my duffel bag. “Here,” I state, holding up a hoodie sweatshirt.
“I don’t need that. I’ll be fine,” she says, her arms crossed over her chest. “I’ll just sleep in my clothes.”
“Just take the sweatshirt, Charli,” I encourage, tossing the sweatshirt at her and playfully hitting her in the face.
She huffs, trying to hide her smile, as she grabs it before it falls on the floor. “Fine.” She slips off her oversized jacket and tosses it on the floor of the tent, and even though there’s no light except the faint orange glow from the fire, I can still see enough of her.
Charli doesn’t spin around and hide. She removes her tighter, more formfitting sweatshirt and slips on my hoodie.
She left on the thin, long-sleeved undershirt she was wearing, giving her an extra layer of warmth.
Then, she starts to shimmy, pulling her arms out of the sleeves.
I have no clue what she’s doing, but it looks like she’s wrestling with herself beneath the layers.
Suddenly, her hand appears at her waist, and she drops her bra onto the floor. I can’t help but snicker as she shifts to slide her arms back in the armholes. “That was some Houdini shit right there, Charli.”
Everything back in place, she shrugs and crouches down to take off her boots. “I can’t sleep in a bra.” Once her boots are set aside, she removes her jeans too, revealing a pair of black leggings underneath.
“Well, by all means, don’t let me stop you from taking off more clothes,” I whisper so no one outside our tent can overhear. The last thing I’d want is one of her brothers to come in here and beat my ass.
Oh, hell. I’m already in for a world of pain where they’re concerned…
She ignores my comment and glances around. “Do you mind if I steal your bottom blanket?” she asks, referring to the thicker blanket I used to pad the ground beneath my sleeping bag.
“I have a better idea. You’ll take the sleeping bag,” I insist because it’s thicker and rated for cooler weather.
“I can’t—”
“You will,” I state bluntly. “It’s warmer and more comfortable.”
“I’m not taking your bed,” she blurts out. “I’ll be fine in the blanket.”
“You’ll be fine in my sleeping bag, Charli. Don’t argue with me on this.”
She sighs and rubs the side of her head. “I can’t, Quinn. I wouldn’t feel right. I’ll just go home,” she states, turning her attention to putting her boots back on.
“No, wait,” I blurt out, a little louder than I should. “Just…stop.” I run my hand through my hair. “We’ll share.”
Her eyes narrow into little slits. “If you’re thinking about funny business—”
“First off, I’m always thinking about funny business,” I start, not even caring I interrupted her. “But that’s not what I’m talking about here. My sleeping bag is wide. Two can fit inside.”
Exhaling loudly, I can feel her hesitation. “I’ll be a complete gentleman.”
Her eyes narrow, and I can tell I’ve won.
She’s fighting it, but she’s already agreed in her own head.
Charli loves camping, and the only reason she doesn’t have her own tent is because she’s always just bunked with one of her brothers.
However, now that her brothers are in relationships, I can’t help but wonder what her next step will be.
“Fine,” she grumbles, moving to the sleeping bag. “This is a terrible idea,” she mutters, climbing inside.
“Yeah, well, it wouldn’t be my first one. Remember when I convinced Camden to tie a rope from the tree branch in your backyard? Not realizing that particular branch was damaged from the storm and already hanging?”
She snorts and shakes her head. “He tried so hard not to cry the whole way to the hospital to set his broken arm,” she says, grinning as she settles into the sleeping bag.
“I felt like absolute shit for weeks,” I confess, remembering the feeling of absolute despair when I watched him fall and break his arm.
“He intentionally used you as his little servant, because he knew you felt so terrible and would do anything for him.”
I bark out a laugh, taking my own boots off. “I know, but I didn’t care. I would have done anything, you’re right.” Grabbing my sweatpants out of my bag, I release my belt and start removing my jeans. I can feel her eyes on me as I kick them to the side and cover up with my sweatpants.
When I glance up and see her staring as I tie the drawstring, I say, “Better tie these, huh? Wouldn’t want your hands to find their way down the front of my drawers.”
She snorts a giggle and shakes her head. “Not gonna happen.”
“I know, because I tied my pants closed.” Then, I head to where she’s lying. Seeing her there has my cock already planning to join the conversation. “You wanna be big spoon or little spoon?” I ask, hands on my hips.
She sticks out her tongue. “Neither? I hate cuddling.”
“What? How in the world can you hate cuddling?”
She shrugs, looking a bit uncomfortable. That tough veneer slips just a bit. “I just don’t like it. You get hot and sweaty, for one.”
“Yeah, my favorite,” I murmur, waggling my eyebrows.
“Exactly! You can’t just snuggle for the sake of snuggling. Guys think because you’re close, they need to fuck you.”
That makes me pause. “Yeah, I see your point. Being close to someone you’re incredibly attracted to and want to fuck every hour of every day would create a bit of a hard situation, if you know what I mean.”
She rolls her eyes. “Everyone knows what you mean.”
“But even if a guy gets aroused, he should be able to keep it in his pants.”
She exhales once more. “And sometimes, cuddling just isn’t comfortable.”
I slip off my sweatshirt and toss it on the floor with my jeans, leaving my undershirt in place. “What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s not comfortable to rest your head on someone’s shoulder, like they always describe in the romance books. It’s awkward and hurts your neck.”
I consider her points and make a motion with my hands for her to scoot. She does but pauses. “How do you want to do this?”
“Well, if you get hot easily, since we’ll be in a tight space, then you can be near the zipper. You can lower it when you need air and space.”
She thinks for a moment before asking, “But what if I get cold?”
“Then take the inside of the bag, Charli.”
“I might need both,” she replies, and even though we’re surrounded by darkness, I catch the glint of mischief in her eyes.
“Then, I have the perfect solution,” I tell her, getting down on the ground and carefully slipping my legs in the back behind her and shimmying into the bag.
“What’s that?” she asks as I get situated.
“You sleep on top of me.”
She makes a choking sound in her throat that’s part shock, part laughter. “I’ll just take my chance with the zipper,” she mutters.
“Turn on your side,” I tell her, gently slipping my arm beneath her head, creating something for her to lie on. “Sorry I don’t have a pillow.”
“I don’t need one,” she says through a yawn.
That’s right, she doesn’t, because she has me.
I let myself relax, even though my body is pressed to her backside.
I’m certain she can tell how excited I am to be this close to her, to hold her against me, even though I’m not really holding her, per se.
But I also keep thinking about what she said.
I won’t be the guy who practically mauls her in a sleeping bag, just because she’s here and convenient.
“Comfortable?” I ask, expecting her to complain.
“Actually, yeah,” she whispers, her words holding a hint of surprise.
I don’t care how painful this position is. My arm will go numb and fall off before I ever move and make her uncomfortable. “If you need me to move, just say the word,” I mutter, catching a whiff of her hair. It’s a combination of fresh air, bonfire, and the fruity shampoo she uses.
“I’m okay,” she murmurs, wrapping her hand around my wrist. “Thanks for letting me crash with you.”
Smiling, I whisper, “Not a hardship, Charli.”
After a minute or so, she adds, “Night, Quinn.”
“Good night.” I almost call her sweetheart but manage to bite the term of endearment back.
With a sigh, I close my eyes and let the feel of her body tucked against me settle in.
It feels too damn good, too fucking natural to have her here.
Which is a problem in itself, because she’s not mine.
This thing between us, whatever the hell it is, isn’t forever.
It’s sex. Scratching an itch. Friends with benefits. Whatever you want to call it.
It’s not a relationship.
The sooner I remember that, the better off I’ll be.
Then maybe when she walks away for good, it won’t hurt so damn bad.
Because something tells me that moment will hurt forever.
“Morning,” Camden greets, climbing out of his tent with a dopey grin on his face.