Chapter Five
STACY’S FRIENDS are in various stages of hungover, but a few remember the wedding.
“Think you’ll stay married?” asks Ava, sipping Powerade as they stand in the shade outside the hotel. The limo’s already here and about three-quarters of the party is inside. Stacy’s still in the hotel lobby. Out of everyone there, Ava is an actual friend friend. She was Stacy’s college roommate, and Lewis was glad she came to Vegas. She’s shy in groups, and he knew she was nervous about the trip.
Even though his hands are sweating from the heat, Lewis jams them in his pockets as he shrugs. Then he realizes a shrug wasn’t an appropriate response. “No. We’re getting a divorce. Obviously.”
Behind her giant sunglasses, Ava’s eyebrows go up. “Hope you didn’t tell Stacy that.”
“Yeah, I may have made that mistake.”
Ava sighs and shakes her head. “Oh, Lewis. You’re supposed to be the one she counts on for the romance in life. Don’t be jaded and cynical like me.”
What does Ava have to be jaded and cynical about? She’s happily married and lives with her wife in a cool brownstone in Bushwick. They have two rescue dogs.
“I’m not the gay best friend in a nineties rom-com,” he says. “I can be cynical if I want.”
“I think you and Tad make a cute couple.”
Lewis doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. In the limo—which is one of those horrible Hummer limos— there’s already some day drinking going on. If Stacy doesn’t hurry, they’re going to get hangovers from their hangover cure.
Finally, Ava says, “You’re all about the meet-cute, right? That was a pretty good meet-cute.”
“I’m re-branding.” Lewis peers into the lobby through the automatic glass doors. Two of the missing bachelorette party walk outside and make for the limo. Every time those doors open, a blast of arctic air pours out. It’s a colossal waste of electricity and makes Lewis, who’s a paralegal at an environmental law firm, grit his teeth.
“Because of Diego? Oh, or what was his name? Liam? Wait no, Jayden? Which was the one who stole your shoes?”
“Jonah,” Lewis says, wishing Ava couldn’t rattle off his last four romantic train wrecks so easily. “And yes.”
Ava takes another swig of Powerade. “You haven’t had the greatest luck in the romance department. Maybe you should just hang onto this one, since you’re already married?”
“I’m going to check on Stacy,” Lewis says.
Ava looks embarrassed. “Sorry, bad joke.”
At the end of the day, he’ll cut her some slack, because this entire weekend has been uncomfortable for her and she’s on edge. But for now he walks away, looking for Stacy—who’s nowhere to be seen.
Lewis spots her. She’s talking to someone sitting behind a palm tree, but Lewis doesn’t think it’s any of the bachelorette party, because by his count they’re all outside.
Lewis rounds the palm, saying, “Stace, you have to get going, you’re gonna be la—”
Tad is there. Stacy’s talking to Tad . Tad, who’s surrounded by stuff. A backpack, a sleeping bag, several full plastic bags.
“Lewis, look who’s here!” Stacy says, beaming.
“Yeah,” Lewis says weakly. He really hopes Tad didn’t say anything about the camping trip. “Listen, you really need to go. You don’t want to miss your flight.”
Stacy’s hair is in a messy ponytail and she’s wearing a bralette over a waffle crop top with fuchsia leggings, and somehow rocking the whole thing. She looks more fashionable than Lewis does in his jeans and rumpled T-shirt.
Either Tad went back to his hotel to change or he bought clothes wherever he bought the rest of this stuff, because he’s not wearing last night’s skintight black jeans or shimmery tank. Instead, he’s in bootleg-cut jeans and a white tee. There’s a blue New York Botanical Garden baseball cap on his head. Cowlicks and curls of hair peek out from beneath it, which is sort of a sucker punch and totally not fair.
“Did you know Tad lives in New York?” Stacy asks accusingly, like Lewis was intentionally and maliciously keeping this information from her.
Like. He was . But she still doesn’t have to act like she knew it.
Tad’s giving him this wide-eyed look that seems legitimately worried. “Yeah, we talked about it,” Lewis says.
“I invited him to the wedding!” Stacy says.
Lewis grits his teeth. It’s her wedding. It’s entirely her prerogative who she wants to invite. Maybe Tad won’t go, anyway.
“Thanks for the invite,” Tad says softly.
“I mean, you married my best friend, and I was there.” She scrunches her face like she always does when she’s trying to remember something. “At least, according to my phone I was there. Lew, I didn’t show you the pictures!”
“Oh good, you took pictures,” Lewis says woodenly.
She’s swiping through her photos when Ava yells from the door, “Hey, guys? Driver says we’ve gotta go now if we don’t want to miss our flight?”
Stacy chucks her phone in her bag. “I’ll send them to you.” She throws her arms around him. “Thank you for the best bachelorette party ever! Have the best time at the chakra cleanse!”
Are you supposed to have a good time at a chakra cleanse? “You’re welcome, and I will. My chakras are going to be so clean, you’ll be able to lick them.”
“I’ll leave that to Tad,” she chirps, bouncing out of reach when Lewis takes a playful swipe at her.
“You’re gross,” he informs her. “Have a good flight, I love you, call me when you land.” It’s been their catch-all farewell for years, flight or not.
“Love you too!” she calls before grabbing her roller bag and dashing for the door.
Which leaves Lewis alone with Tad.
“You said you’d be back at one,” Lewis says.
Tad shrugs. “There’s a Dick’s Sporting Goods on the Strip.”
Something clicks. “Wait. You offered to go camping with me, but you had to buy a bunch of camping stuff?”
Tad stands. His height is still a turn-on—at least three inches taller than Lewis, and where the all-black ensemble from last night made him look slender, the white tee and jeans make him look like there’s more to him.
That’s also a turn-on.
“I didn’t come down here to go camping, so yeah, I had to buy new camping stuff,” Tad says like it’s not a big deal. “I assumed you had a tent. I guess I also assumed it’s a tent that will fit more than one person. Or”—mortification flashes over his face—“maybe you weren’t planning on sleeping in the same tent.”
This is all like, a lot for Lewis. “Why would you….” He trails off. “Yeah, I have a tent. And I’m… pretty sure it fits more than one person? I ordered it from REI….”
He looks hopefully at Tad, as though Tad is A) an expert on camping gear, and B) familiar with every tent REI sells.
“Is it a dome tent? That would be okay, but it’s better if you have a backpacking tent.”
“Um.” These terms seem vaguely familiar, but Lewis can’t remember what he ended up buying. “It’s lightweight. And it fits in my backpack.”
Tad makes a considering noise but seems satisfied. “That’s the important thing.”
Is Tad an expert on camping gear? Lewis figured he volunteered to come along because he was legitimately—maybe understandably—concerned about Lewis dying. Does Tad actually enjoy camping?
There’s still a shadow of stubble on Tad’s chin. Lewis’s skin tingles with remembered sensation. It takes more effort than it should to not reach up and scrape his palm along Tad’s jaw.
“You probably have things to do,” Tad says. He waves a hand at his collection of stuff. “I have to pack all this, anyway.”
“No, it’s cool,” Lewis hears himself saying. “I’ll help you. Just let me grab my backpack from bell services.”
It’s cool. I told you I wouldn’t fuck you again because we don’t know each other, and now I’m doing everything I can to get to know you.
He should’ve just told the truth, which is that he’s not a casual sex guy, and he’s not looking for sex that’s more than casual. But god, he didn’t think they’d see each other more than necessary.
He retrieves his backpack, which feels heavier than when he packed it. When he gets back, Tad has everything out of the bags and arranged around himself. Lewis heaves his backpack to the gleaming tile floor and plops down on the bench. His knee accidentally bumps Tad’s shoulder and he jerks back. Tad doesn’t seem to notice, which is just as well. Maybe all that awkwardness in the hotel room earlier has evaporated under the unforgiving Vegas sun and the constant blast of air-conditioning. Maybe they can just be whatever two people in a weird situation should be.
What that is, Lewis has no idea. But as he watches Tad efficiently pack all his supplies, he realizes he’s glad he’s not going on this trip alone.
“Do you like camping?” Lewis asks.
“Yeah. I go a few times a year, usually just for the weekend.”
“Alone?”
“Uh-huh.” He deftly stashes water bottles throughout the backpack.
“I should carry some of those,” Lewis says, watching the water bottles disappear. “That’s too heavy for you.”
Tad swivels at the waist and plants a hand on the floor. Involuntarily, Lewis’s eyes sweep the long line of his body, a graceful curve from his head to his hips. “Be my guest,” he says, tossing Lewis the water bottle. Lewis fumbles to catch it but hauls it in. Tad looks charmed.
“I got a water treatment kit in case we need a spare,” Tad says.
“Oh! I have one of those.” Lewis resists the urge to puff out his chest at this achievement. Yeah, look at him, he may have learned everything he knows from the internet, but he’s not a total lost cause.
“I figured you did,” Tad says, but Lewis is pretty sure that’s bullshit. He’s pretty sure Tad bought the water treatment kit because he thought Lewis was totally incompetent. Which should get his hackles up. Lewis hates it when people think he doesn’t know what he’s doing. It would get his hackles up, but there’s something about Tad that makes it impossible. Maybe it’s his smile.
Packing is clearly A Process for Tad, but he’s fast. It’s obvious, watching him, that he’s done this before and he has a method. When he’s done, he looks up at Lewis. Him being on the floor and Lewis sitting above him is reminiscent enough of a position they spent time in last night that Lewis’s jeans get a little tight.
He shifts, crosses one leg over the other, and then just stands up. “We can see if my car’s ready, if you’re finished packing.”
“Won’t you get charged more if you pick it up early?”
Lewis shrugs. “It’s okay.” He picks up his backpack. “Ready?”
Tad nods and stands. Well, at least one of them is ready, because it sure as hell isn’t Lewis.