Chapter Twelve
Piper
After roasting and eating marshmallows and quietly talking by the campfire so we don’t wake Mom, neither Benson nor I make an attempt to get to bed, even though we’re both yawning like crazy.
I’m still trying to wrap my head around what he told me earlier. His confession about liking me from the moment we met keeps replaying in my head like a broken record and I can’t get it to stop. I’m not sure if he was just playing the part of the amazing boyfriend in front of my unsuspecting mother, or if nothing about it was fake at all.
I’m scared I’ll find out which of those two options it was when we head into that tent. And I don’t know which one I want to be true.
The quiet crackle of the campfire is the only sound filling the air. Benson gives me a close-mouthed smile, his eyes reflecting the faint glow of the embers. He looks as confused and nervous as I am.
“I think I’m going to get some shuteye,” he says in a hesitant tone.
“Yeah, me too. I’m beat,” I reply, trying to sound casual even though my heart is racing. “I’m going to get ready for the night. Guess I’ll see you in there.” I force a smile, hoping it doesn’t betray how jittery I am.
I grab my toothbrush and a roll of toilet paper from my bag and march to a spot behind a tree to get some privacy. I try, and fail, to calm my racing thoughts.
Yesterday, I could’ve strangled him with my bare hands, but things have shifted between us. He’s far from the annoying, obnoxious guy I took him for. The stupid butterflies I kept feeling whenever he was around in the past begin to make sense. Maybe my stomach knew what was up before my brain did.
I snort. Sure, he’s fun and charming and hot and kind, but that doesn’t mean I have feelings for him, right? That’s just… just… preposterous. This is Benson Donovan . My enemy.
After brushing my teeth twice, just to postpone heading to the tent, I can’t wait any longer. It’s not as if I want to sleep out here. At some point, I must get to my sleeping bag.
I head back and zip the tent open.
“It’s just me,” I say as I peek inside.
Benson is already tucked into his sleeping bag, reading a book with a flashlight. He’s so huge that he barely fits on his side of the tent. His bare arms are on top of his sleeping bag, and the sight makes my pulse race. Ugh. Why does he have to be so tall and muscled?
He puts the book aside and places the flashlight on his sleeping bag, illuminating part of the tent. His features are slightly obscured by the weird lighting, but he still looks gorgeous as ever.
Benson looks at me expectantly, as if he thinks I’m going to start a deep conversation.
“Oh, you don’t have to stop reading on my account,” I tell him. “You can do whatever you want.”
“I can?” he asks with a playful smile on his lips.
“You know what I mean,” I say, unzipping my sleeping bag.
“Do I?”
I arch an eyebrow. “Careful, Benson. I was finally starting to believe you aren’t as insufferable as I thought. But if you keep answering with these questions, I’ll have to change my mind again.”
“Really?”
I sigh. “Stop it. I’m serious.”
“Are you, though?”
I can’t help but laugh, but still throw my pillow at his face. “Enough already.”
He grins. “Fine, I’ll stop. Also, we should whisper. Tents aren’t exactly soundproof.”
“What’s your plan? Sharing secrets and gossiping like a group of tween girls?”
He shakes his head and whispers. “Your mother can’t hear us discussing our fake relationship, remember?”
“What’s there to discuss? I thought we were going to shut up and sleep.”
“We need to talk about our next step. You know, the engagement. The proposal.”
“Why?”
“Your mom’s already talking about forever, and we need to be prepared. If we don’t start acting like we’re moving toward something serious, she’s going to get suspicious. And then we can kiss that land goodbye.”
I groan, fully sliding into my sleeping bag. “This is getting out of hand. I thought we were just trying to survive this weekend, break up, and go our separate ways. Not plan a fake wedding.”
“Hey, you were the one who started all this, not me,” he says.
“A fact you keep reminding me of incessantly.”
Benson chuckles. “Well, I’ve got to savor the irony of getting sucked into a fake relationship with a girl who can barely stand me.”
I roll my eyes, though I can’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“Maybe a little,” he admits in a teasing tone of voice. “But you’ve got to admit we’re having fun together.”
“Fun? That’s a stretch.”
“Look at it like an adventure then,” he says.
“If by ‘adventure’ you mean a series of increasingly insane decisions, then sure.”
“Here’s my plan. I’ll propose to you tomorrow.”
I freeze in my sleeping bag and my jaw drops. “Tomorrow? Are you nuts?”
“We’ve supposedly been together for a year, Pip. It’s not weird.”
“But that’s all fake! We haven’t even…”
He grins. “What? Kissed yet?”
I slap his arm. “No! That’s not what I mean.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“You’re taking this too far.”
“But we agreed I was going to propose.”
I bite my lip. “I know, but I didn’t think it would happen so soon.”
“If you don’t want to go through with it, we can just come clean with your mother. Otherwise, I’ll propose. I even got a ring this morning and brought it with me just in case I’d need it this weekend.”
“You got a ring? I hope you didn’t spend too much!”
“Don’t worry about it. When I use it to propose, I’ll make it look like I’m madly in love with you. I’m pretty convincing at it.”
I almost ask him why he’s so good at pretending to be head over heels in love with me. Maybe he did mean what he said earlier or maybe he was only pretending so we could convince my mother.
“Do you really think we should do it? Keep lying to my mom, I mean?”
“I think we’re too deep to back out now, but like I said, if you want to come clean, we will.”
“I’ll think about it,” I say.
“You know, you’re pretty convincing yourself,” he says with a grin. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were the one who’s madly in love.”
I roll my eyes but can’t help but smile at the same time. “In your dreams, Benson.”
He laughs. “Guess I’ll have to go to sleep and hope for a good dream then. Goodnight, Pip.”
“It’s—”
“Piper, I know,” he says before I can finish my sentence.
“Goodnight, Benson.”
He turns the flashlight off, and we are left in complete darkness. Outside, a coyote howls in the distance.
I turn around a few times, trying to get comfortable. I plop my arms on top of my sleeping bag and close my eyes, but still can’t sleep.
Benson shifts, and I can feel the fabric of his sleeping bag brush against mine. We’re so close that every small movement feels magnified. The scent of the tent—a mix of nylon, fresh pine from outside, and a hint of Benson’s aftershave—fills the air. It’s comforting, but also distracting, making it harder for me to ignore the tension humming between us.
He stretches out beside me, his arm grazing mine for a split second before he pulls it back, the contact sending a ripple of awareness through me. My skin tingles where he touched me, and I curse the way my body reacts to him.
It’s strange, being this close to him in the dark. The kind of strange that makes me hyper-aware of every little thing. I can hear his breathing, steady but just a touch faster than normal. Is he as restless as I am?
If I moved my arm, I could touch him again. The thought sends a jolt of something—excitement, nervousness, I’m not sure which—through me. It’s absurd, really, how my body reacts to him, considering how much I used to despise him. But now, lying here, with only a sliver of space separating us, it’s hard to deny that something has changed.
I try to focus on the sounds outside, hoping they’ll lull me to sleep, but it’s impossible to ignore the warmth radiating from his side of the tent. I wonder if he’s thinking about the same things I am. About what it would mean to keep up this fake dating charade. About whether or not there’s any truth to the lies we’ve been telling.
The silence stretches on, neither of us daring to break it, and I start to think he’s fallen asleep. Just when I’m about to close my eyes, I hear him shift slightly, and his voice comes out in a low, almost hesitant whisper.
“Piper… you okay?”
His words catch me off guard. “Yeah,” I whisper back, though I’m not sure if it’s true. “Just… thinking.”
“Me too,” he admits, his voice barely audible. There’s a pause, and then he adds, “Goodnight. Sleep tight.”
“Goodnight,” I answer, my heart doing that annoying fluttery thing it seems to do whenever he says my name.