Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
In the Afterglow
I’m drunk. Very drunk. Not to the point of blacking out or losing control of my motor functions, but so relaxed and at ease that I could easily make bad decisions without my brain stopping me.
If someone told me it was a good idea to buy one of those giant inflatable unicorn floaties to take out onto the lake, you bet your ass I’d buy it, no questions asked. Because, um, fuck yeah. That would be cool as shit. Maybe I should look into it, actually.
I’m tired but unwilling to go to bed even though it’s getting late—or at least late for me.
What is it, ten o’clock? Jesus. When did I get so old?
The alcohol isn’t helping me stay awake, either, but everyone’s sitting around the campfire, chatting and laughing, and the mood feels so happy that I don’t want to miss it.
Instead, I melt into the chair, nursing another beer as I watch and listen to what’s going on around me like a fly on the wall rather than an active participant.
But that’s fine, too. It’s nice having everyone together like this.
It feels like we haven’t been since last year, and when I think about it, I realize it’s probably true. God, getting older is weird.
When we were younger, hanging out was as easy as breathing.
We slept over at each other’s houses, sometimes staying up until sunrise the next morning.
We’d go out to the movies on weekends or to the bar every other night once we turned twenty-one, having parties and living up the days of our youth like they would never end.
Then, priorities started changing. Hangouts spaced out to every other week, then once a month, before finally, maybe only a few times a year.
No one could be blamed for the shift. It was just how things went as soon as the guys got married and started having kids.
Their families became their focus, and everything else naturally fell by the wayside.
I don’t like to think that I was left behind, but my life didn’t lead me down the same paths they took, and a small part of me worries that if I didn’t see them every day at work, I might have naturally fallen into obscurity as well, almost like I never existed.
It’s why I’ve held myself back, sticking it out at the shop as long as I have—so that we have an excuse to talk to each other and not test the limits of our friendship.
Sitting here now, I observe each of my friends.
Marcus and Tiff are sitting side by side, holding hands across the arms of their chairs, and I watch as he brings her fingers to his lips every so often to kiss them.
Every time, Tiff smiles and repeats the gesture.
It’s almost like they’re incapable of letting each other go, the need for physical contact paramount to their survival.
If they break off to get up for any reason, they return right to it when they sit down again, as if they never moved. It’s sickeningly beautiful.
Ben and Laura aren’t overtly affectionate in public, but it suits them just fine.
They’re sitting in a double camp chair, almost like a little couch, but there’s no PDA, despite their closeness.
Instead, they’ll occasionally look at each other and smile as if they’re communicating through some secret language that only the two of them know.
Ben will get up to get a beer and know to get one for Laura, handing it off to her without a word spoken between them.
At one point, she’d switched to water, and I don’t think Ben had to ask her.
He just knew that’s what she wanted. To be so in sync with each other like that boggles my mind.
Across the way, Liz is curled up in Eric’s lap on one chair, looking half-ready to fall asleep, nestled against his chest with his arms around her.
She’s the only one who hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol all night, but we quickly found out why when she and Eric decided to spill the good news shortly after everyone sat down for dinner.
They’re expecting another baby. After months of fertility treatments, they can proudly say they’ve reached eighteen weeks already.
They were keeping it quiet until it seemed like this one would stick.
Apparently, they’ve had a few miscarriages already.
I didn’t even know they were trying for another.
But I can’t help but notice how Eric holds her so possessively in his lap.
It’s actually fucking adorable, and I’m only a little bit jealous.
Jesus, I never realized alcohol made me so sappy.
Obviously, Luke and I aren’t here together, but it doesn’t stop me from imagining us that way, stealing glances at him every so often, studying his face while he’s distracted.
His profile is just as fucking beautiful as the rest of him, the sharp angles of his jawline very prominent, almost like he’s chiseled from stone.
The contour of his face is so symmetrical, from his brows down to his Adam’s apple.
It’s like an artist drew him up. If I could draw, I’d have a sketchpad full of his visage and the way the firelight casts shadows across his skin.
God, what I wouldn’t give to trace that outline with my fingers. Or my mouth.
Fuck. That’s a dangerous thought. Horny and drunk is never a good combination. Horny and drunk while sitting around a campfire full of people who have no clue I’m lusting after one of them is worse.
Luke occasionally catches me looking at him throughout the night.
He stares back at me silently each time, our eyes locked together.
I know I should look away before he gets freaked out, but the alcohol in my system has made my brain fuzzy, and I’m unable to comply with that logic.
Luke doesn’t seem to mind it, though, especially when he’s smiling at me like that. Instant butterflies.
I’m dying to know what he thinks when he sees me, or if he’s feeling remotely close to how I do. Would it kill him to give me a sign already?
At one point, the conversations settle, and the fire dies down to just the embers. There’s a natural lull to the evening, and my tired brain secretly rejoices since it means I’ll be able to fall into that comfy bed soon.
“I think we’re going to call it a night,” Eric says as Liz yawns in his lap. It looks like he’d be in danger of carrying her to the tent if they stayed up much longer.
“Probably not a bad idea,” Ben agrees, giving Laura another one of those looks that seems to convey a litany of unspoken words, and she yawns as well.
Except the growing smile on her face convinces me she’s not actually tired, and I have an idea of what they’re going to be doing when they get to their tent. Good for them.
Suddenly, my heart leaps out of my chest as the thought crosses my mind that going to bed means getting into bed with Luke, and I snap upright in a panic.
We’ve conveniently ignored what happened earlier in our tent and haven’t been alone since then to discuss it, but the memory of the two of us lying face to face comes rushing back.
A glance at Luke startles me to see he’s staring directly back at me.
Is he thinking the same thing I am? It’s hard to decipher the look on his face in this dim lighting, but he doesn’t shy away as our eyes meet.
This time, it feels like we hold each other’s gaze for an eternity before the round of ‘goodnights’ starts as people get up from the firepit.
Only Marcus and Tiff remain, but they look like they want to pack it in for the night, too. Marcus turns to me, his eyes asking a question, but I can’t even begin to imagine what he sees or where his hesitation stems from.
“Are you staying up?” he asks.
“I’m not tired yet,” I say quickly. It’s not exactly a lie anymore—not with how my heart is thrashing against my ribcage. “I might take a walk on the beach for a bit before going to bed.”
Marcus raises a single brow. “It’s pitch black out there.”
“It’s fine.” I wave a hand. “I’ve got a flashlight.”
“I’ll go with you,” Luke offers, his voice soft. “I’m not tired either.”
I snap my head back toward him and see the timid smile on his lips, and suddenly, my heart jumps at a possibility I don’t dare to utter.
Am I reading into it yet again, or does it look like Luke is nervous, too?
I turn back to Marcus and thank the gods that it’s too dark for him to see the flush on my cheeks.
“Okay. Well, still be careful.” He sighs like a burned-out parent. “We’re over an hour away from the closest hospital, remember?”
“Yes, Mom,” I scoff with a laugh. “I’m just going for a walk, not tree climbing.”
Tiff suddenly lets out a very pointed snort, giving me a peculiar up-and-down look with her eyes that I don’t know how to decipher. It throws me off balance.
“They’re grown,” she adds with a melodic laugh. “Let ‘em do what they want.”
“Fine, fine,” Marcus says. He groans as he picks himself up from his chair, then helps Tiff up from hers, the two of them still hand in hand. “Enjoy that, then. But I’m going to bed. Try not to break any bones till daylight, 'cause I’m not driving your ass anywhere at 3 a.m.”
“He’s right. Don’t be waking us up unless one of y’all are bleeding to death, or I’ll be pissed.” Tiff laughs. “Have a good night, boys.”
“Night, Tiff,” Luke and I reply together, and as we meet each other’s eyes again, we grin.
The night air is colder than I was expecting, and even though I’m still drunk enough to feel warm, as soon as we move away from the fire, I shiver like I’ve jumped into a pool after sitting in a hot tub all night.
I grab a hoodie from the tent, throwing it on over my T-shirt, and then Luke and I head toward the beach.