Chapter 15
NOAH
As it turned out, we were all extremely grateful for the boys’ foresight in snagging so many games for our cabin, because once the local sheriff arrived, we were all put on lockdown in our cabins until they could interview us individually, a process which took hours.
Camp staff delivered sandwiches and snacks throughout the day, but otherwise we were confined to our cabins, and boredom set in real quick.
I had to admit, it was insanely cute watching August trying to teach my bestie how to properly hold the little dart between his fingers. He was an incredibly patient teacher.
“This sucks,” Xavier complained for probably the dozenth time, right after we finished hamburgers delivered by the camp staff. “Surely the sheriff has finished interviewing everyone by now?”
Our team had been second, after Nikita’s team, so we’d been done for hours already.
The questions had been seriously lacking, too.
Ticking a box to cover his ass for when the bigger dogs took over the investigation, no doubt.
But truthfully, I’d rather be bored for a day than someone else get killed.
As if they’d heard him, a knock sounded on our door a minute later, and when Ace answered it cautiously, we found one of the senior producers there under a huge umbrella, thanks to the bucketing rain.
“We’re all good, guys,” the exhausted--looking man told us. “Search party found the guy at the base of a ravine about three miles from here. Looks like he slipped and fell while hunting and maybe loosed his arrow into the sky. Weird as it is, it’s looking like just a tragic accident.”
“Bullshit,” Xavier scoffed, joining Ace at the door. “That’s way too much of a coincidence. He lets go of an arrow when he slips and falls, and it hits a girl here, in our camp, right in the eye? What are the odds of that even happening?”
“It’s not zero,” Augie offered quietly, giving a little shrug. “If it’s even a zero point zero one chance, it’s still possible.”
The producer just shrugged. “Well, whatever. Authorities seem pretty convinced that’s the guy responsible, so you’re fine to leave the cabin whenever. This rain is supposed to keep up for the rest of the night, though.”
The guy started to leave, but Ace called out after him. “Wait, how’d he die? The bow hunter. You said he slipped and fell, but what was the actual cause of death. Do we know?”
“Uh, I dunno. I’m no medical expert. Broken neck, I’m pretty sure I heard someone say.
It was a pretty long drop, so that makes the most sense, right?
” The producer shrugged again. “Does it matter? It means there’s not actually a murderer at Camp Beaver, so that’s a good thing.
” His nervous laugh said that had been a very real concern for most of the day.
Ace let the door swing shut and turned to face the rest of us with a deep frown on his brow. “Anyone else think that sounds super suspicious?”
“You mean how this guy supposedly tripped and fell and coincidentally broke his neck on the way down, same as the guy who attacked Noah and Ace?” Minho replied in a dry voice, his pretty face set with concern. “Yeah. Suspicious as fuck.”
Skye gave a dramatic stretch, yawning as he did. “Okay, well, suspicious or not, I’m going to go insane if we stay locked up in here much longer. I’m going to go for a walk. Anyone coming? Twin?”
I glanced at the one window we had and wrinkled my nose. “In that rain? No thanks.”
“I’ll come,” Ace offered, and Skye scowled like he wanted to change his mind already. His cabin fever must have set in hard, though, because he heaved a sigh and reached for his sneakers.
Meanwhile, Torin shuffled the deck of cards the boys had found earlier and tipped his chin to Augie. “Blackjack or poker?”
August barked a laugh and shook his head. “For one thing, you can’t play either game with Uno cards, but for another you know I’d wipe the floor with you in both. How about we stick with regular old Uno?”
Torin pouted but swapped the card decks anyway. “Fine. But I still want you to teach me how to cheat as smoothly as you sometime.”
“It’s a natural talent, not a learned skill,” August teased with a wink. “You guys in for Uno? It’s no--mercy version, so will likely end in tears. Probably Xavier’s.”
“Fuck off,” Xavier scoffed, folding himself into a cross--legged position on the floor with August and Torin. “It’s usually Skye that rage--quits during Uno.”
My best friend just shot him a middle finger as he headed out into the rain with Ace, not even bothering to grab an umbrella or coat.
That left six of us to play, and I winced as I found a space to sit on the floor.
The bruising from my broken ribs had faded heaps, but it still hurt like hell when I moved the wrong way, and being manhandled by Ace this morning hadn’t done me any favors.
“You okay, Short Stack?” Torin asked with concern, noting my wince.
I nodded, flexing my back as I tried to get comfy. “Yeah, I’m just all stiff from doing nothing today.”
He nodded, then gestured for me to move closer.
“Come sit here. You can lean against me to take some strain off your back and ribs.” He smoothly pulled me to sit between his legs, my back against his chest as his arms wrapped loosely around my waist. “The least I can do after I was the one who broke your ribs in the first place.”
I gave a small laugh even as August frowned at my position. “You saved my life, Tor. I’ll take the broken ribs over actual death any day of the week.”
“Have you seen any of the footage from that night?” Z asked with what seemed like genuine curiosity.
“Not the attack part—-I mean the clips of Tor flying in like some kind of anime superhero in his designer underwear with his robe all flapping.” His grin implied it was well worth watching, but as yet I hadn’t gone looking for anything to do with that night.
I shook my head. “No…but I can use my imagination.” I meant it as an offhand comment, but the way Torin’s breath hitched and his arms tightened slightly around me suggested he’d taken a dirtier insinuation from it. Which was fair, because that’s where my mind had gone too.
“Yeah, well, maybe if you did watch the footage, you’d see how close Ace came to bleeding out thanks to you,” Xavier muttered mostly under his breath, but we all heard it, and the following silence was so thick it was almost suffocating.
It was Z who broke the tension, punching Xavier in the shoulder. “What the fuck, Xavi? Noah saved Ace from drowning as he was drowning himself. He sure as fuck didn’t intend to cut Ace that deep. Right, Rocky?”
I shrugged. “I honestly don’t remember anything after I jumped into the water, but we’re both fine now, so let’s just never discuss it again. Are you dealing those cards, Augie?”
Xavier was glowering daggers my way, but I ignored him entirely as August dealt the Uno cards that he’d taken over shuffling from Tor.
Minho joined us on the floor with a yawn and casually rested his hand on my ankle as he leaned against Skye’s bunk.
It was odd, given the circumstances and Xavier’s shit mood, but I was exceptionally calm and comfortable right there with both boys touching me.
It was impossible not to relax against Tor with how securely he wrapped me up in his warmth, but the light touches as he reached to play a card or pick up were driving me to distraction.
So much so that I quickly ended up victim to several pick--up--10 cards and was the first to lose for having too many cards in my hand.
Not that I was mad about it because Xavier was almost certainly going to be a sore loser when Augie inevitably won.
That didn’t stop me helping Torin play his hand to try to knock Xavier out fast, but then he started grumbling about unfair advantages, and I decided to climb up to my bunk so I could lie down properly.
“You okay, Rocky?” Z called up when I groaned out loud.
I bit my lip, not having intended to be quite that loud.
“Yeah, all good.” Because although I was stiff from a whole day of doing nothing, I was still getting better each day.
My bruises were fading, but the broken ribs would take a few more weeks to fully heal.
It wouldn’t be such an issue except my binder put constant pressure on my rib cage, making sure I could never quite forget the ache.
“Oh no, I have too many cards,” Minho announced a moment later, sounding anything but disappointed. “I’m out.”
“Smooth, Min,” Torin drawled as Minnie climbed up the ladder to my bed and climbed in beside me.
“What? I just wanted to see if Chicken wanted to read manhwa with me,” he replied with a smirk that only I could see.
He’d found a well--worn paperback copy of BJ Alex while searching for games earlier, and had been translating it for me in between board games a few hours ago.
Except he’d left the book on his bunk and seemed to have no intention of fetching it as he snuggled in beside me with his arm draped around my waist.
“You’re going to get us in trouble when Ace gets back,” I whispered as he drew a blanket over both of us and buried his face in my pillow just an inch from mine.
His smile was lazy and confident. “Why? No rules against a little platonic snuggling between teammates. Skye snuggles everyone, given half a chance.”
He wasn’t wrong about that, but Skye’s level of physical neediness was very definitely nonsexual. Minho’s, on the other hand… I bit my lip to swallow back a gasp as he trailed a finger over the skin of my waist where my T--shirt had ridden up.
“I don’t think you know what platonic means,” I whispered even quieter still, terrified that the guys sitting on the floor would hear us. They were already arguing over the rules around the seven card, though, and it was becoming heated, so we were probably fine.
To my relief—-and disappointment—-Minho seemed content to just cuddle, and when Z started playing his guitar, I found myself dozing due to the cocooning heat and gentle sounds.
Okay, so maybe dozing was too loose of a term.
I fell asleep. Like, dead asleep to the point of vivid dreams, where Minho was a whole lot less platonic when he crept into my bunk and my unconscious mind went to town on all the things I would do with him…
if he ever knew who I really was. And was okay with it. And we were alone. And—-
“Shit, Chicken…” he whispered in a breathless gasp as I ground my ass against his hard length and his lips caressed the side of my neck. “Please tell me you’re as hard as I am right now.”
Something about his phrasing confused me, cutting through the heavy cloak of dreaming to wake me just a little more, but his hand was already skimming over my lower belly, and I forgot what had just roused me from my dream.
Or was I still dreaming? This definitely felt like a dream because in reality Minho and I could never…
A soft, breathless sound of pure desire escaped him as his hand slipped beneath the waistband of my sweatpants and my hips rocked back against him, desperate for more. Hungry for him to touch me and—-
“Chicken?” he whispered directly against my ear, causing my eyelids to flutter open.
He spoke too quietly to wake anyone else in the darkened bunk room, but something was wrong.
Something was… Wait. Minho’s hand was down my pants.
I’d been grinding up against him in my sleep, and his hand was now patting around with apparent confusion inside my pants.
“Um, where’s your dick?”
Fuck.