Chapter Fourteen
Sydney woke up to the morning sun streaming through the nylon of the tent. She stretched her arms above her head as her legs dangled off the edge of the thin mattress. She turned to where Morgan had collapsed the moment her head had hit the pillow last night.
But Morgan was gone and the sleeping bag, which was neatly rolled up and stuffed into its bag, was placed on top of the pillow.
Sydney’s eyes widened as she took in the empty spot.
A wild urge to both laugh and cry bubbled inside her.
All she could think about was Morgan running away, fleeing like she had done that first time.
Before Sydney could even consider the possibility that Morgan stole her Jeep, she scrambled out of the tent.
She ignored her missing flip-flops and darted her gaze left and right in search of Morgan.
But the woman hadn’t vanished. She was sitting at the picnic table, chin resting on her fists, engrossed in what looked like a textbook. Her black curls were pulled back in a low bun, with a few rogue strands hanging over her temples.
Morgan glanced up as Sydney stumbled in her direction. “Morning,” she said, smiling like she was struggling to make sense of what she was seeing.
“I thought you left,” Sydney said, cutting straight to the point. She was feeling slightly sick from the relief that washed over her like a drenching rainstorm. Morgan hadn’t run away. Who would’ve thought?
“Left?” Morgan asked, looking perplexed. “Where on earth would I go, Sydney? I’m not even sure where I am.”
Sydney shrugged and tried to play it cool, but there was nothing cool about the heat running through her body when she remembered how Morgan had undressed her in the middle of the woods.
That thought sent a fire to her hips. She quickly walked forward in the hopes it would dispel the feeling––it did not.
“I don’t know why I thought that,” she said, rubbing her hands over her face.
She hadn’t looked in the mirror yet, but she was sure the reflection would be a mess.
“I just thought…well you know…since last time you didn’t exactly stay. ”
“Last time was different,” Morgan said, closing the textbook and placing both palms flat on the cover. The words on the front page were written in French. The woman could read French?
Sydney was winded. But there was no time to dwell on the fact that she still had so much to learn about Morgan. She had more important things to ask. “Was it?” Sydney asked softly, sliding onto the empty picnic bench.
“Yes, it was,” Morgan replied. “But if you’re going to want to talk about why I didn’t run away last night, I swear I’ll find someone in this camp and pay them to take me home.”
“Got it.” Sydney chuckled awkwardly, glancing down at Morgan’s perfect hands. Would it be too forward to reach over and entwine their fingers? Would she ruin everything?
She didn’t risk it.
“So, last night was fun,” Sydney said.
Morgan smiled softly. That icy mask was no longer. Not that Sydney was expecting it. That mask had disappeared last night with that first kiss. That same first kiss had Sydney pining after the woman like she actually believed in love at first sight, like she didn’t remember the curse.
“I think something might’ve bitten me.” Morgan lifted her leg and pointed to a reddish welt just above her kneecap. “Do you know of anything out here that can give a bite like this?”
“I’m no expert on wildlife,” Sydney replied, examining the welt. It was no bigger than a mosquito bite, although there were definitely two tiny puncture marks. “But I’d say that looks like a spider bite. Is it itchy?”
“A little.”
“Hot to the touch?”
Morgan touched the welt with the tip of her finger. “There is some warmth.”
“Definitely one of those poisonous ones,” Sydney said, deadpan. “I’m sure you see them all the time in the emergency room.”
“You’re not serious, are you?” Morgan’s face went even paler. Her eyes bulged so big they looked like they were going to pop out of her head and roll across the picnic table. “I didn’t realize Big Sur had any poisonous spiders.”
“The park’s got the most poisonous spiders in all of America. I thought you knew that from the link I sent you.”
Morgan shook her head, her jaw slack. “What link?”
“It takes a few days for the venom to pass through the bloodstream,” Sydney went on, struggling to smother her laugh.
“But by the time it does, it’s too late.
The lucky ones usually drown quickly from the liquid accumulating in their lungs.
Those less fortunate, well, let’s just say it isn’t a painless death. ”
“You’re joking, right, Sydney?”
Sydney shook her head. “I won’t joke about something like this. That looks exactly like the photos on the internet. The bite of Gullibilis Lunaris, a type of moon weaver spider. We should probably wake up Vince. He might need to suck the poison out.”
“Ha. Ha.” Morgan’s shock morphed into a look so sharp it could cut through glass. She rolled her eyes and huffed. Still, a smile sat there, right on her beautiful face. “Very funny.”
“For a neurosurgeon, you’re very gullible.” Sydney laughed so loudly she heard Vince grumble from his tent.
Morgan pulled a face, yet a smile was biting at her lips. Beneath the table, Sydney felt Morgan’s bare foot kick her shin.
“There isn’t really a spider called Gullible Moon Weaver spider,” Sydney said.
“I got that,” Morgan replied, her expression flat.
“You were believable, though. I’ll give you that.
Great poker face. And no, I won’t call myself gullible.
Well, not usually. More like inexperienced when it comes to anything involving…
” She swept her right arm around the campsite.
“… Nature. When you work nearly eighty hours a week, there isn’t much time for anything else.
I can’t remember when last I even went to the park. ”
“Eighty hours?” Sydney gasped. “Why on earth would you work that much? No wonder you’re burnt out.”
“Who says I’m burnt out?” Morgan asked, her smile fading.
Fuck. Things were going so well. Of course, Sydney had to ruin it by opening her big fat mouth and blabbing on about something she had no real knowledge of.
There were probably a million reasons Morgan was taking a much-needed break from work.
“I assumed you got burnt out,” Sydney said.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed anything. It isn’t my place.”
Morgan reached out as if to entwine their fingers but stopped short, instead dropping her hands to her lap. It was always one step forward, two steps back, when it came to Morgan. Sydney wondered if things would ever change.
“I didn’t move my whole life from San Francisco just because I felt burnt out,” Morgan said, glancing to her left, where two campers walked by with their toiletry bags. “There’s another reason—”
“What’s going on here?” Liv’s voice echoed across the campsite, interrupting a very important conversation, one Sydney was desperate to hear. “Why hasn’t anyone started on the coffee yet?”
Sydney would’ve happily wrestled Liv back into her tent, zipped it up tight, and pretended as though she hadn’t just interrupted what might have been a pivotal moment—or at the very least, a crucial step forward in her currently non-existent relationship with Morgan.
Whatever Morgan had wanted to say, to confess, was the key to the door to all her vulnerabilities. Morgan was finally opening up. Or at least Sydney’s hunch had told her so. It was a breakthrough Sydney had been hoping for… until Liv ruined the moment with talk of coffee.
“In a minute,” Sydney quickly said, hoping she could rectify the problem.
She hoped she could change back time and coax Morgan out of her shell like you could tempt a sleepy dog out of bed with a meaty bone.
But the look on Morgan’s face said it all.
Whatever she was about to share was once again wrapped up in whatever defenses she kept around herself, like a physical wall.
Oblivious, Liv scrunched her face and yawned again. “Well, get right to it, Syd. I’m headed to the bathroom.” She dug her hands into the pockets of her grey hoodie and walked off toward the restrooms, calling back over her shoulder, “And when I get back, I expect coffee.”
To anyone else, Liv would come off as rude, but Sydney knew her well enough by now to understand that she just wasn’t a morning person. The only way she could function as a decent human being was with a hefty dose of caffeine.
“I’ll make some coffee,” Morgan offered, standing up. She swung one leg over the bench until she was upright and then stretched her arms above her head. Her cotton T-shirt lifted just enough for Sydney to glimpse her toned stomach and that cute belly button.
Something yellow caught her eye. “You’re wearing my flip-flops,” Sydney said, pointing down to the sun-yellow sandals adorning Morgan’s lovely feet. “They fit you perfectly.” The gold jewels studding the straps sparkled in the sun’s rays that peeked through the fluffy white clouds drifting by.
Morgan glanced down and wiggled her toes. “I guess they do.”
“Like Cinderella’s glass slipper.”
“You know there’s a terrible back story to that fairytale,” Morgan said, folding her arms over her chest and rubbing her palms over her bare skin.
Even from where Sydney was standing, at least five feet away, she could see goosebumps pricking her skin.
No wonder. The morning breeze sifting in through the redwoods carried a nip.
Only later, when the sun was properly overhead, did the campsite warm up.
“Did you know that in the Grimm Brother’s version, there was no fairy godmother?
Or that one of the stepsisters actually cut off her toes to fit into the glass slipper? ”
Sydney said, “So, you’re saying Cinderella isn’t a beautiful story about love at first sight?”
“No.” Morgan shook her head, looking as serious as ever, as if they were speaking about some war in a far-off land. “At least not the love story I’m after.”