Chapter Eleven
Morgan might have gone slightly overboard with the packing. The two bulging duffels, a cramped carry-on, a small vanity case, and a cooler certainly suggested so. The look on Sydney’s face when she climbed out of her Jeep—those light blue eyes wide, that lovely mouth parted—confirmed it.
“We’re just going camping for one weekend,” Sydney gasped, her eyes skimming over the bags surrounding Morgan’s feet. “Did you think we were moving to New York City?”
“How was I supposed to know what to pack?” Morgan retorted, feeling a mix of impatience and misery settle over her.
It didn’t help that she regretted accepting the invite, or that she had spent wasted hours plotting ways to get out of the weekend.
None of which were good enough. Hence her current position, standing in her front yard facing Sydney’s perplexed expression.
“The weather isn’t exactly predictable,” Morgan said meekly.
Yet, from what she had gathered by perusing the weather forecast for Big Sur, the days were generally warm and the nights cool.
Her only real excuse—one she didn’t share with Sydney, who couldn’t possibly understand—was that Morgan could be considered a catastrophic packer.
What if a storm came out of nowhere? What if they were caught in some apocalyptic event and all they had was what they brought to the campsite?
She was pretty sure there was a movie out there depicting exactly that.
“Some T-shirts, a pair of shorts, a warm jacket, a sleeping bag,” Liv called out from the passenger seat.
“And voilà. That’s all you need for two days of camping.
” She was leaning out of the window, her red hair pulled back, fastened by a bandana.
She looked like one of those people who hiked the PCT—and yes, Morgan knew what the Pacific Crest Trail was, since she had found herself lost in a few too many YouTube videos in preparation for the camping trip.
Camping wasn’t exactly the same as hiking for three months, but there were similarities.
Both included things like tents and bug spray.
“It really isn’t brain surgery,” Liv added.
Sydney snapped her head back at her friend, pulled a face Morgan couldn’t see, and when she glanced back in Morgan’s direction, her features softened. “I’m sure I’ll be able to get these bags in the Jeep. You may not know it yet, but I’m surprisingly great at Tetris.”
“Bullshit,” Liv called. “You’re worse than me at puzzles. Don’t you remember last year’s team-building event?”
“This is different,” Sydney said. “I’ve got a system. You just wait and see.”
Morgan would’ve offered to drive herself to the campsite since that would solve all their problems—and give her the opportunity to make a quick getaway if necessary—but Sydney had insisted she caught a ride with her and Liv.
Apparently, there were only two cars allowed at Pfeiffer Big Sur Campground and since Vince was driving there from Monterey, she had no choice but to accept a lift.
“I can go repack if you want me to.”
“No,” said Sydney, shaking her head. “No need. I’ll make it work.” She bent down and grabbed the handle of the smallest of the two duffel bags, her eyes bulging when she had to heave it up like it was a boulder.
So yes, maybe Morgan had gone a little overboard with the packing, but who knew what could happen out there in the wilderness? It was called the wilderness for a reason.
Climbing into the Jeep, Morgan shuddered at the thought of all the creepy crawlies she had to face, and then again when Liv whipped her whole body back to face Morgan.
“You’re going to love it,” Liv said. “The place is stunning. It’s usually booked out six months in advance.
This is the first time Syd’s been able to get a booking. ”
“Great,” Morgan smiled. Thankfully, Liv didn’t notice the disdain creeping along her lips. “Just great.”
~~
Pfeiffer Big Sur Campground was situated alongside the Big Sur River under the sheltering canopy of towering oaks and redwoods. It was just off Highway One and there were plenty of nearby hikes. Each site had a picnic table, a fire ring, and access to shared restrooms.
Morgan, who had never gone camping in her life, had no idea what a campsite should look like.
All she knew was that this one seemed a bit barren.
The picnic table was fine, but where was the kitchen, the platform for the tents, the cute little hammocks suspended between two trees? This was, well, it was… sort of primal.
“I thought I saw a lodge back there,” Morgan said, chewing on her lip as she watched Sydney and Liv carry a cooler box across to the table.
She remembered seeing a sign directing visitors toward the lodge next to the campground.
It sounded lovely. A double bed. A pool perhaps.
“Maybe we should all just book ourselves in there. My treat.”
Vince, who had arrived at the same time as them, and was currently bent over, hammering what Morgan assumed were tent pegs into the ground with a mallet, snapped his head to her and frowned.
He had golden hair just like his sister, skin equally as tanned, and the remnants of a sunburn on his freckled cheeks.
“You’re joking, right?” he asked, a disbelieving smile creeping onto his face. “Because we came here to camp.”
Morgan pushed out a laugh that was neither funny nor convincing.
“Of course, I’m joking. Ha. Ha.” She had never felt so isolated from everyone around her.
It reminded her of that nineteen-year-old Morgan who had gotten an early admission to John Hopkins and had spent all of her time in the lab, alone, listening to All Out of Love by Air Supply.
Meanwhile, many of her peers were out together, enjoying themselves.
“Are you alright?” Sydney asked, sidling up beside her, interrupting her thoughts. The woman’s elbow brushed against her skin. Sydney didn’t move away. Instead, she stepped just a little closer until the brush became a full-on lingering touch.
Morgan swallowed. She could do this. Camping wasn’t nearly as daunting as that first time she took the board exams for her surgical residency. Still, the two experiences seemed to blend together in the knot tightening in her stomach. She grunted, “Perfectly fine.”
“You look stressed.”
“I am not.”
“A little worried, then?”
“What is there to be worried about?” Morgan asked, her tone more declarative than inquisitive, yet she was genuinely curious about the answer.
What was there to worry about? Snakes. Venomous spiders sneaking into her underwear.
Black bears waiting for the dead of night before they dragged Morgan out of her tent.
“Absolutely nothing.”
“What should we do now?” Liv interrupted, zipping the tent door closed and then stepping back. She smeared her dirt-covered hands over the back of her jean shorts.
“How about a dip in the river?” Vince suggested, wiping sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. “It’s hot and I could do with a swim.”
It was hot. And sticky. And there were bugs everywhere.
Morgan smelled something strong, like rotting bark, and she swore she had just seen a shadow of something in the woods.
A bear perhaps, though she couldn’t be sure.
Not of anything. Not while the sun glared down over her head.
Certainly not while Sydney was standing so close to her that Morgan’s heart was on fire.
“In a minute,” Sydney said, flicking a finger at a pile on the leaf-covered ground. “I still have to get my tent up.”
“Do it after the dip,” Liv said, kicking a stone with the tip of her sneaker. “We could all do with some cool water. And a beer. How about we do both at the exact same time? A beer in the river.” She made a noise that could easily be mistaken for an orgasm.
Vince ambled over to the cooler and popped the lid open, retrieving two beer bottles. He popped the lid and handed one to Liv as he said, “Clearly, you don’t know my sister at all.”
“That’s the problem,” Liv said grumpily. “I know her too well and if we don’t haul her away from here, she’ll want to organize everything. That’ll take hours.”
“I’ll just be a minute,” Sydney said, walking off to the left of the site to where her tent bag rested. “And don’t worry, I don’t need any of your help to set it up.”
Neither Liv nor Vince offered their help. Morgan didn’t either. She was certain she’d be more trouble than useful.
Once the skeleton of the tent was up, Morgan watched Sydney cover it with a nylon sheet and position a thin metal stick through a loop. She finished it off by sliding a thin black pole into a narrow tube, erecting the tent like a cupola.
It was surprising how fast it went up. What started off looking as hard as rocket science, or neurosurgery, turned out to be pretty easy.
Now that Morgan had observed, she was sure she could erect a tent just as easily.
But alas, there were no more tents left to set up.
All three were already erected around the oak at the center of the site.
One for Liv. One for Vince. A bigger one for Sydney and Morgan to share.
Morgan suddenly shivered, her body tensing as if a black bear had, in fact, waltzed into the campsite, sat on its hindquarters, and waved hello.
Tonight, when the sun went down and the stars came up, Morgan was going to sleep right beside Sydney.
She would hear the soft whistle of her breathing and feel her body heat radiating across the gap. Another shiver.
“Your mattress, your majesty.” Sydney smiled, handing over a mat rolled up with a thick string. “I brought an extra pillow for you. It’s funny how with all those bags, you managed to forget one.”
“I guess I wasn’t thinking logically when I packed.
” Morgan still hadn’t fully recovered from the realization that they were going to be sleeping next to each other, hopefully with a decent limb-sized gap between them.
When Sydney had mentioned they’d be sharing a tent—since Liv was a light sleeper and couldn’t deal with distractions—earlier, on the drive there, Morgan had barely heard her.
She was too busy looking for fluffy grass patches along the side of the road in case she wanted to hurl herself from the moving vehicle.
The realization was both terrifying and enticing. Though mostly terrifying.
“Can we go swimming now?” Vince declared, shrugging off his shirt to reveal lean, chiseled abs. “Before it gets dark.”
“There’s like five hours of daytime left,” Sydney said, walking to the tent and bending down to grab hold of the zipper.
“But yes, we can go. Let me just change into my bikini.” She moved her eyes to Morgan, who was still standing awkwardly at the rim of the campsite.
She looked to be suggesting something. But there was no way Morgan was going to join her in that tent and strip out of her clothes in front of Sydney.
Thankfully. The woman abandoned whatever she had intended to say and zipped herself inside.
Morgan was either prepared to wait until Sydney was done or not to swim at all.
The latter sounded swell, safer, and less risky.
If she tripped, fell, and sliced her head open on a rock, she wouldn’t trust any of them to stave off the bleeding.
Liv disappeared into her tent as well.
Vince, on the other hand, was already wearing swimming trunks and looked ready to dive into the river.
Morgan would most certainly warn them all about the dangers of diving into the water with an unknown depth.
Severing a spinal cord would harshly dampen a camping trip, and it would also end the trip prematurely.
Morgan quickly dismissed the thought as ridiculous and pushed it out of her mind.
“Ready!” Sydney declared, ambling out. She wrapped a sarong around her bare waist and stuck her toes into the flip-flops waiting at the tent’s entrance.
Dammit, she was beautiful.
How many more times was the woman going to take Morgan’s breath away? Those slender legs, her soft yet strong stomach, those pillowy breasts barely supported by her tiny bikini. Morgan gulped air and looked away, concentrating on a rock at her foot.
“Me too,” Liv said, walking out of her tent, wearing a bright pink bikini that clashed with her mane of red hair. “Now let’s get our asses in the water.”
“I’ll bring more beers,” Vince said, following Liv as she meandered off.
Only Sydney stayed, sashaying over to Morgan, who was desperately trying to keep her gaze off Sydney’s breasts.
It brought back all those feelings from that first night in Sydney’s bed, watching the woman slide down to the edge of the mattress, her tongue like a weapon.
She wanted Sydney. She wanted her so badly that she felt a physical ache between her thighs.
Was that crazy? Was she out of her mind? Perhaps. She’d ask Dr. Henry during next week’s appointment and hoped the woman could prescribe something to numb these feelings. Maybe there was something Morgan hadn’t tried yet.
“Are you coming?” Sydney asked.
“I’ll be there in a minute.”
“You know where to go?” A faint furrow formed between Sydney’s brows.
“I’ll follow the sound of rushing water.”
“It’s a pretty relaxed river.”
“The sound of mosquitoes, then,” Morgan replied.