23. Becca
The campfire is a bust with the wet logs, so it’s a good thing the stove works. We have pasta along with some sort of shelf-stable sausage that, if you ask me, looks suspicious, but the kids seem to love it. The entire dinner process takes so long that by the time we clean the dishes, they’re already yawning.
Miller reiterates the warning about going right to sleep as he zips the boys’ tent closed for the night.
I peek my head into the girls’ tent. They’re lined up in their sleeping bags, heads all against one wall of the tent. “Are you sure you guys are okay to sleep in here without me?”
Lena scoffs. “Of course. And some of us would have had to sleep without a counselor anyway, remember? There are two of you and three tents.”
She makes a good point, and it makes me feel a little better that I’m not completely abandoning them. “Well, sweet dreams, ladies. Remember, right to sleep. See you in the morning.”
I zip their tent closed and stand upright to stretch. The sun seemed to set quicker than usual here in the woods, or maybe it’s later than I realized. I let out a yawn and head for my tent.
Our tent, I guess.
I thought I’d be more weirded out by the idea of sharing a tent with Miller, that the tension would grow between us all day like it did when I first met him. When the campers first brought it up, I was one hundred percent opposed to the idea.
But Miller’s been so sweet today, shocking me. He took charge when we were stuck in the storm and got us down the mountain safely, even with me freaking out. And he didn’t laugh when I told him about med school.
He didn’t even bat an eye, come to think of it.
I wonder if maybe, just maybe, I misjudged him.
Miller is just ducking into the tent when I reach it. He holds the flap open for me, like some kind of backwoods gentleman, and I crawl inside and sit cross-legged on my sleeping bag.
“How are you feeling?” Miller asks as he zips the flap closed.
The campers accidentally positioned this one with the door facing the woods, rather than facing the other tents. We left it where it was, since it seemed easier than moving things around, but now that we’re turning in for the night, it feels somehow more private, even though we’re only separated from the campers by a couple of sheets of thin nylon.
I take inventory, rolling my shoulders. There’s a twinge of soreness, but nothing that truly hurts. “Not too bad. Maybe a little tender from where I was carrying my pack, and I’m still kind of cold, but I’m okay. How about you?”
Miller takes his shoes off and slips into his sleeping bag fully clothed. I’m confused for a minute, but then he starts to toss clothing—his pants, a shirt, socks—out of the sleeping bag, and I realize he’s changing inside it. For someone who’s shown me his bare chest on multiple occasions, it seems overly modest.
“Don’t want me to see your man chest?” I tease. I take my own shoes off and climb into the sleeping bag to follow suit.
He grins. “Hey, if you want to see it, just ask.” He pulls the covers down slightly to show off his pecs.
I groan. “I was joking. Put those away.” Because honestly? They’re hot, even more so in this confined space.
The muscles ripple as he laughs, and I find myself wondering what it would be like to run a finger along the ridges of those muscles. To have him hold me close with nothing between us.
A shiver runs through me as I imagine the warmth of his hard body.
I turn away from him as I slip off my pants inside the sleeping bag and pull my bra off from under my t-shirt. I won’t be sleeping topless, thank you very much, but as my nipples rub against the cotton of my shirt, it feels more exposed than if I were completely bare.
I snuggle deeper into my sleeping bag, pulling it to my chin. Inside the thick fabric, I feel like I have an extra layer of protection, somehow. Like I can talk to Miller and tease him, and it’ll all be okay.
“What are you in school for?” he asks. He lays on his side, the top of his torso still very much visible from this angle.
I wait for the dread to kick in, the way it usually does when someone asks about med school, but it doesn’t come. Maybe I’m just distracted by those pecs. And the very top of those defined abs. His entire body is strong and defined, the muscles of the arm that’s propping his head up tensed.
“Um. Medical school. Second year.”
“Ah. Right. Following in your dad’s footsteps.”
He remembered.
I roll onto my side, facing Miller. The sleeping bag dips, almost exposing the top of my t-shirt, and I pull it higher. “You seem different. Like, the last few times we’ve talked. You were one way when I first met you, and I didn’t like you at all. But you’re different now.”
I’m not sure I’m making any sense, but Miller nods.
“It’s all me, I guess.” He rubs his chin as he thinks for a minute. “Most people seem to like the outgoing, funny guy, so that’s what I do most of the time. I realized that when I was maybe ten or eleven, and since then I just give the people what they want.”
I chew on my bottom lip. I’m so far down in this sleeping bag that I could probably nibble on the fabric, too. “So, is this just showing me what you think I want?”
He shakes his head and blows out a breath. “Not at all. Honestly? There’s something about you, Becs. It makes me feel like I can be myself around you.”
What happened when he was a kid that made him feel like he couldn’t be himself? It seems too invasive to ask, but then he keeps talking, and I don’t have to wonder.
“My brother had some health problems when he was little. Still does, but not as dramatic. And I realized people seemed sad when they saw me, like they felt bad for me or something. I didn’t want their pity, so I found ways to make them laugh instead.”
My heart clenches at the thought of a ten-year-old Miller having to put on a brave face. “Is your brother… okay now?”
He nods. “He is. He’s pretty independent with his own job and all, but he lives with my mom. Eventually, I’m sure he’ll come live with me, so that’s part of the reason I feel like I need to find something other than playing poker to do with my life.” He shrugs, an easy smile on his face. “Sorry to dump on you.”
I’m quiet as I think to myself. Miller’s need to make everything a joke, how he seems to take nothing seriously, is hitting in a different way. He’s not some flippant, arrogant guy. He’s a man trying to make people happy.
I pull my chin out of the sleeping bag. “You’re not dumping anything on me. Thank you for telling me.”
Miller leans on his elbow, resting his head on his hand. “Right back at you, Becs. I think I like you more the more I get to know you.”
My cheeks heat. Normally, I’d want to hide at this point. Miller saying he likes me? Yeah, that’ll make me blush every time. But I don’t feel the need to run or to keep it from him.
I clear my throat. “Um. Thank you?”
He chuckles and scratches his jaw. “You’re welcome. Any chance you’re starting to like me, too? Or do you still hate me?”
“I never hated you. More just… disliked. You annoyed me at first. And then whenever I was around you, I turned into this person who got distracted. Made mistakes.” The truth comes spilling out of me. He’s so open and honest in this moment that it’s hard not to do the same.
“And you didn’t want anyone to figure out you’re not perfect,” he says softly, startling me with his blunt accuracy. That’s exactly what I’ve been worried about, isn’t it?
“Well… when you put it like that, it seems silly,” I say with a nervous laugh.
“Maybe. But you know what? I always knew you weren’t perfect,” Miller says, his face growing serious. “I liked you not in spite of the fact that you weren’t perfect, but because of your imperfections. They make you who you are, Becs.”
I squirm and do my best to change the subject as I roll to my side, propping myself up to face him. “Why do you call me that? Becs? No one else calls me that. No one outside of camp even calls me Becca. I’m Rebecca everywhere else in my life.” I like the nickname when he says it.
“It suits you. More than Rebecca or even Becca, if you ask me.” Somehow, he’s gotten closer as we’ve talked. His breath tickles my face. “At least, it suits who you are when you’re with me. And I like that girl.”
“I think I do, too,” I whisper. Even though I’m the furthest thing from perfect around him.
Miller reaches over and tucks a stray hair behind my ear. “You should. She’s pretty awesome.” His fingers trace my jawline.
I turn my face into his hand, so he’s cupping my cheek.
He leans forward, his face only inches from mine. “Can I kiss you?”
I blink in surprise as I nod. I never imagined Miller would be the kind of guy to ask. He’s the kind of guy who takes what he wants.
“Because if I start kissing you, I don’t think I can stop.” There’s the alpha male.
“I know,” I whisper, and that’s all it takes.
In one smooth motion, I’m on my back and Miller is leaning down over me, his hands on either side of my head. He bends down and captures my lips with his. It’s soft at first, sweet. Then firmer, more demanding as he parts my lips with his tongue and explores my mouth. The varying pressures are dizzying.
His body molds closer to mine, pushing me into the ground beneath me. My legs part inside the sleeping bag as his thigh presses between them, and he kisses me harder.
I gasp for breath when he finally pulls back. My head is spinning, my pulse thrumming through me. There’s an ache between my legs as I look up at him. A need I haven’t felt in so long.
“Too much?” he asks, smiling as he runs a finger along my cheek.
I reach a hand up and trace my lips. They’re swollen from our kiss. More than just a kiss, actually. It seemed like the start of something… more. “No. Not enough.”
Even in the dimly lit tent, I can see his eyes darken just before he presses his lips to mine again. He rests some of his body weight against me when his hand comes to my jaw again. His fingers skim along the hammering pulse in my neck.
I moan into his mouth. I’ve kissed boys before, but damn. This feels more intimate than having sex, and we’re both fully clothed with sleeping bags between us. Our voices have been low, making sure the campers can’t hear us, but if we keep going, I’m not going to be able to stay quiet.
“Miller,” I whisper when he stops kissing me for a minute. I’m not really sure what I’m asking. To stop? To keep going? To unzip my sleeping back and fuck me into oblivion right here in the woods, a few feet from the campers?
He gives me a peck on the lips. “I’m going to kiss you a lot more, Becs. But if I don’t stop now, I won’t be able to. And… campers.”
I bury my face against his chest as I laugh. “God, I’m such a bad counselor when I’m around you. What the hell were we thinking?”
He grips my chin and tilts my face up toward his. “That I couldn’t lie here next to you and not take my shot, Becs. I’ve been dreaming about this since I met you. Maybe even before that, when you shot me down in those first texts.”
I flush at the reminder. “Yeah. Sorry I was kind of a bitch. I was… going through things.”
He lies back and pulls me toward him, so my head rests in the cradle of his shoulder. “Was that when you found out about the school stuff?” he asks gently.
“Yeah.” I snuggle into him. It’s warm and comfortable and safe. Everything I’ve been missing.
He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Well, that’s understandable, I guess. You get these texts from some random person you’ve never met, and you weren’t exactly in a mood to talk to anyone. Even a dashing stranger that was mysteriously captivating over text.”
I snort. “Sure. Dashing and mysteriously captivating with a line about what color underwear I was wearing.”
He continues as if I hadn’t spoken, “And even though you hadn’t seen his face, you knew in your soul that you’d be making out with that mysterious stranger with a rock digging into your back, just two weeks later.”
This time, his quirky jokes make me smile instead of sigh. “I don’t have a rock in my back. You can move if it’s not comfortable.”
He pulls me tighter. “This is the most comfortable I’ve ever been, Becs. I don’t want to move a muscle.”
We stay curled together just like that as we drift off to blissful sleep. I usually toss and turn all night when I’m camping, the hard forest floor a stark change from the mattress I’m used to, but I fall into the deepest sleep I’ve had in a while.
I don’t even wake up early, when the sun rises, the way I usually do when I sleep outside.
When I wake, it’s with a start, and Miller sits up at the same moment. We look at each other, eyes wide, as the sound of campers screaming fills the air.