Chapter 26
I’d warned Fallon that she couldn’t simply throw a lit match into the fire pit and fire would magically start.
I’m not a hundred percent certain on the thermodynamics of starting a fire.
However, her way felt wrong. The second she started waving around a lit match, I shrieked, summoning the boys who came hurtling out of the back door.
Oliver wrapped an arm around Fallon and closed his fist around the flame, extinguishing it.
A second later, two warm hands gathered me around the waist and lifted me out of harm's way. An unnecessary reaction considering I wasn’t in any real danger.
George plonked me several feet from the pit, casting a worried look around.
The crease in his brow was so adorable, without thinking, I reached up and smoothed the lines on his forehead.
The action must have caught him off guard because he froze.
Not moving, like I was a wild animal he was afraid of spooking.
Honestly, that was fair. I knew my reactions in the past to his casual intimacy hadn’t always been great.
But I couldn’t help feeling the desire to be close to him, to need him.
Thinking of that kind of dependency still caused my chest to constrict in fear.
Like I’d been doing for the past few weeks, I shoved that feeling away, pressing it back in its dark hole—a totally healthy coping mechanism.
‘You okay, sweetheart?’ His hands flexed on my waist and suddenly, despite the chilly night air, I felt like we were both wearing far too many clothes.
Tilting my head back to look him in the eye, my breath caught at the warmth in his gaze. The layers I wore felt totally uncalled for when I was wrapped in his heat. His hand cupped my cheek, thumb tracing light circles on my skin.
My eyes closed for a split second, fingers itching to curl into the material of his shirt. ‘Mmhmm.’
‘I know what I’m doing,’ Fallon cried. We both glanced over to see her with both hands on her hips, shooting daggers at Oliver, who had taken possession of the matches and was holding them over his head, out of her reach.
‘Beg to differ, Pooh. You guys forgot the logs and the fire starters.’ Amusement tugged on his lips.
‘I was just… testing the matches,’ Fallon huffed.
A laugh rumbled from George’s chest. ‘Come on, let’s leave those to fight it out and get an actual fire started.’ He took my hand, leading me round the other side of the treehouse where a small hut was erected, a large tarp covering the logs. Yeah, Fallon and I really hadn’t looked that hard.
After a couple of missteps, Fallon still arguing about the best way to feed the flames, the fire was roaring in the pit. We’d found chairs tucked away in a cupboard inside and brought them out. Someone grabbed a giant bag of marshmallows and the bottle of tequila George had bought at the store.
Fallon flopped down into one chair, her face lit up by the glow of the fire.
She hated the dark and I could see the first flickers of anxiety crinkle her features.
I stepped between her legs, flopping down, wiggling my butt as I curled up beside her.
The chair wasn’t that big, so I was basically sitting on her lap.
She didn’t even blink; adjusted slightly, and curved her arm around my waist.
The air was growing colder as night set in. Roxy was curled up on a blanket George had brought out. He set it far enough away from the fire that she wouldn’t get caught by rogue sparks, and she was chewing happily on a bone.
George sat next to me and Fallon, smiling as he watched me get comfortable against her. Not bothered in the slightest that I hadn’t chosen to sit next to him. That fact alone irked me slightly. He never reacted how I expected him to.
In the past, people had questioned my relationship with Fallon.
Her ex never liked how close we were—how tactile.
Then again, he was a giant cockwomble, so no accounting for taste.
George was consistently unphased by anything I said or did.
He might have been okay with me not sitting next to him, but I felt the heat of his gaze on me as hot as the fire crackling away.
‘Where’s Oliver gone?’ I tore my eyes from George and glanced around, not seeing an arrogant prick anywhere.
‘Getting the chocolate,’ Fallon said.
The back door opened a few minutes later.
Oliver came sauntering down to where we sat.
The moment he spotted where I was sitting, he started shaking his head.
‘Oh no, that’s not happening. It’s my birthday and I’m pulling the birthday card.
I want my girlfriend.’ He stomped over, chucking the blocks of chocolate he’d retrieved at George, who caught them one handed. Why was that hot?
Oliver placed his hands on his hips, staring at me with narrowed eyes. Even though he had apologised for being a raging arsehole earlier, I knew how to hold a grudge and wasn’t willing to let it go just yet. I snuggled deeper against Fallon. She let out a sigh, knowing what I was doing.
‘She was mine first. And it’s not your birthday until tomorrow.’
The amber glow from the fire lit up the pout slowly forming on his face.
‘My birthday, my girlfriend. Shoo.’ He waved his hands like I was cattle that needed to be herded. George started laughing, finding Oliver’s petulance amusing.
I heaved a sigh. ‘Fine.’
With a few grumbles, I unpeeled myself from Fallon, who gave me a grateful smile. The second I’d moved, he swooped in and plucked her out of the chair, rearranging her on his lap and placing several kisses on her neck, making her blush.
Usually, this would be the time I’d pretend to vomit over all their PDA. I wasn’t given the chance as two hands on my hips pulled me backwards and my butt landed directly on George’s lap.
My squeak of surprise made Roxy’s head perk up from her bone. Finding I wasn’t in any real danger, she let out a snort and went back to chewing.
‘There’s a perfectly good chair right next to you,’ I murmured as he wound his arms around my waist, nestling me further into his hard body.
My limbs went stiff in his hold. No matter how much I told myself to relax, I was on high alert, waiting for something bad to happen.
Fallon and Oliver were completely lost in each other, muttering softly, paying no attention to us.
George brushed the hair off my neck so he could speak softly into my ear. ‘If you want to go sit over there, you can. I just wanted you close.’
He was giving me a choice. He always gave me a choice.
‘You never say what I think you’re going to say,’ I breathed, fidgeting with my fingers.
He placed one of his huge hands in-between mine, stopping my fiddling. Drawing my attention to him. ‘That a bad thing?’
I thought about it for a minute. ‘It’s a weird thing.’
‘You guys have really never been camping before?’ Oliver asked an hour later.
The marshmallows had been roasted. Well, most of them had been.
Turns out I didn’t get the hang of it and set a fair few on fire, prompting George to take over, and somehow turn the white fluff a delectable gooey golden colour.
I marvelled at it every time, handing him several to roast, which he did with that same cheerful grin on his face.
I noted the way his eyes would dip down to my lips, watching as I plopped the hot mallow into my mouth.
The heat flared in his eyes when some of it dripped down my chin.
He didn’t waste time before removing it with his thumb and sucking it off.
Still perched in his lap, I nearly melted right alongside the marshmallow.
The bottle of tequila was also half drunk. None of us could be bothered with glasses, so we took turns passing it around.
Fallon and I shared a knowing glance before she answered, ‘Uh, we have. Once.’
Oliver peered down at her in his lap, brow raised. ‘I’m dying of intrigue.’
She looked at me, eyes rolling. The faint smile on her face told me she didn’t really mind reliving this particular experience.
‘It was a school trip,' I started, suppressing a shudder at the memory. ‘They took the entire class to the Lake District to camp overnight. It was wet and cold and there were bugs everywhere.’ God, it was horrendous. Camping was my idea of a nightmare. You slept on cold, bumpy ground in a tent that wasn’t suitable protection from the elements or animals who wanted to eat you, and you did all of this when you could sleep on a mattress inside with central heating. It made no sense.
‘They had a few tents set up, and we were in one with a group of girls who were—’
‘Right cows,’ Fallon finished off bluntly.
Oliver’s arms tightened around her. ‘They kept making comments about me in the tent, knowing I could hear them,’ she carried on and the same flash of anger I felt boiling in my blood at those girls for body-shaming her, flared to life in Oliver’s eyes.
His mouth opened, no doubt to spew some derisive comments towards the nonexistent pre-teen girls in his head.
Before he could, Fallon placed a hand on his arm.
‘They quickly regretted it, so you don’t need to go all Oliver about it,’ she teased. His lips fell into a pout.
George squeezed my thigh. I tried really hard not to focus on the heat that lingered there after he withdrew his touch.
‘What did you do?’ He tilted his head, looking down at me.
A slow grin spread across my face. I placed a hand on my chest. ‘Who me? I was a perfect angel.’ My eyelashes fluttered, the picture of innocence. George grinned, his arms flexing around my waist, pressing me tighter against his hard stomach, that was oddly comfortable.
Fallon barked out a laugh. ‘Yeah, perfect angel.’
When three sets of eyes stared at me expectantly, I gave in. ‘To put this in perspective, those girls were really horrible, and the teacher put us all in a tent together, knowing how fucking mean they were in an effort to bond.’