Chapter 10 Sadie
I’m going to need all the coffee in the world to get through this day.
Between my rude awakening in the middle of the night and the slab of rock underneath Thorn’s tent, I’m surprised I got any sleep at all.
Not to mention the dream.
It involved a certain wilderness guide, the two of us sharing a single sleeping bag, his skin like fire against mine and his breath hot in my ear as he whispered all manner of unmentionable things that make me blush even now—and in my dream, I was as loud as he was quiet, so loud I woke myself up in real life.
Darkness instantly turned to dawn, and I was alone in this tent with my eyes wide open and my heart racing and the deep, deep fear that I’d made those noises out loud, loud enough to wake up the entire camp.
The dream was so steamy I didn’t dare write about it in my new journal: some secrets are just too risky to put down on paper.
I’m in no danger of forgetting, though. I still see him—us—every time I close my eyes. I can practically feel Thorn’s hands on my body, his lips against mine, his…everything else.
The most surprising part? I wanted all of it back as soon as it was over.
To say it caught me off guard is an understatement.
Yeah, I’ve enjoyed chatting with Thorn and making him laugh. At the end of the day, though, the two of us couldn’t be any more different. Caden broke things off because we were “incompatible”—but I feel like any potential connection with Thorn would be testing the limits of opposites attract.
He loves nature. I love how nature looks through panoramic windows, from giant plush armchairs in impeccably air-conditioned rooms.
He loves adventure. The most adventurous thing I’ve done before now is a ski trip up in Vermont—which taught me I’m terrible on the snow, but great at sipping cocoa beside a roaring fire.
He carries his entire world in a pack half the size of mine, while my gigantic one barely holds the essentials of my usual routine…if that.
Thorn and I are about as opposite as you get. There’s no way we’d work.
I admit he’s attractive. His hair, his smile, his voice—his laugh. Anyone with common sense would be drawn to him!
But, again: there’s no way we’d work.
Right?
Even if, hypothetically, I found myself interested—and apparently I am, at least on some subconscious dream-world level—I can’t imagine he would be interested in me.
He probably wants an outdoorsy type, someone who’s up for living minimally.
Someone who doesn’t film vlog footage while wearing silk pajamas and then make the whole group late because she absolutely must make fancy coffee or else. For example.
But what do I care what his type is? I couldn’t care less, honestly.
Back to the coffee: everything I need to make it is in my pack, which is still over in my crumpled pile of tent unless a bear made off with it in the middle of the night. My clothes for today are still in my pack, too.
I unzip Thorn’s tent, poke my head out.
Someone revived the campfire at some point, and the smell of it mixes with the pleasant aroma of coffee. Hunter, Silas, and Trey are up, along with Parker and Emma, circled around their coffee setup, while Zoe looks on from afar, snacking on dried fruit.
On instinct, I scan for Thorn. I don’t immediately spot him—
But then my eyes lock on his light blue T-shirt: he’s down by the stream, having what appears to be an intense one-on-one with Matteo. Interesting. His shoulders look good in that shirt, but not nearly as good as in my dream, when he had no shirt.
I tear my gaze away before someone catches me staring.
My mess of a tent looks even worse than I remember. I examine the fabric, run my fingers down the gaping gash. Thorn was right: it’s pretty much unsalvageable.
I rummage around in my pack. It’s much easier to get to my coffee gear with half of my stuff still in the tent, waiting to be repacked.
“Sadie!” Trey calls out from across the clearing. “Made a cup for you, as promised!”
Oh, right. I had forgotten he’d offered to share some of their company’s coffee with me this morning—this is good, actually. Not having to make my own will buy me extra time to pack up my stuff. I refuse to make everyone wait on me again today.
He heads my way, carrying a steaming metal camp cup that boasts the same octopus logo as the tattoo on his forearm.
“Thank you so much,” I say. I take a sip when he hands it over, careful not to burn my tongue, and it’s definitely some of the best coffee I’ve ever had. “Wow, Trey—this is incredible!”
A cool breeze ripples through the air, leaving my own tattoo-less arms covered in goosebumps.
Trey’s eyes drift down to my chest—
Which is when I have the unfortunate realization that I’m not wearing a bra, and these silk pajamas leave absolutely nothing to the imagination.
I cross my arms over my chest just as he realizes he’s staring.
His cheeks go pink as he averts his eyes. “Glad you like it! I, uh, gotta go pack up—you can keep the cup for now.”
He heads over to his tent, and not a second too soon.
“How’d you sleep?” a familiar voice says a moment later when I’m elbow-deep in my pack, hunting for a sports bra.
When I glance over my shoulder, there’s Thorn, sipping on his own cup of coffee.
I’m still very much in my pajamas, and the chill in the breeze is most definitely still…hard to miss.
I grab the first thing I see (my toiletry bag) and hug it to my chest, but it’s not quite wide enough to cover everything.
Not that I’m embarrassed of my oh-so-obvious nipple situation—they’re nice nipples, thank you very much—but just the thought of Thorn noticing them is enough to send me straight back to my dream, and everything he did to them.
“How’d I sleep?” I repeat, buying myself time to figure out something true that doesn’t make me sound like a princess out of her element. “It was…more comfortable than I expected.”
Not a lie. It was. I just expected worse.
“How about you?” I ask.
“Decent,” he replies. “Oh, here”—he reaches in his pocket with his free hand, pulls out my sleep mask—“thanks for this. It did help with the sun.”
I take it and bite back a grin, fighting the urge to say I told you so.
“Couldn’t resist some fancy coffee?” I say instead, nodding to his camp cup. “I can’t help but notice I’m not the only one who brought enough to share.”
“Wouldn’t want it to go to waste, right?”
I grin. “Admit it—you like it!”
He takes another long, deliberate sip. His eye contact feels like a challenge. “It’s passable.”
His voice carries, loud enough that Trey overhears. “Passable?” he says, and I don’t think it’s just mock offense in his voice. “That’s a single origin sourced directly from El Salvador! Gesha wash and everything. It’s top-tier, bro!”
Thorn smiles sheepishly. “It’s really good,” he admits. “I was just downplaying it because, uh…”
There’s no end to that sentence, probably because I was just trying to get a rise out of Sadie—while accurate—is even harder for him to admit than the fact that he really does like the fancy coffee.
Trey looks from Thorn to me, then back to Thorn. A slow smile spreads over his face.
“I see,” Trey says with a very bro-like sparkle in his eye. “I get it. Okay. I’m gonna just—”
He points his thumb over his shoulder, then heads to the campfire where Hunter and Silas are packing up their gear.
“We should—” Thorn and I blurt out at the exact same time when it’s just us again.
“Probably get ready for the day,” I finish, and he nods, like that’s exactly what he was thinking.
“Let me know when you’ve got everything out of your tent and I’ll help you fold it up,” he adds, suddenly all business.
“Thanks,” I call after him—
But he’s already on his way to check on someone else.
An hour later, when everyone’s packed and ready to go, Matteo gathers us into a circle.
“Okay, people, listen up!” he says with special attention toward the tennis girls, who are whispering with each other, totally oblivious.
Matteo clears his throat.
Emma elbows Brittany in the ribs, and they all fall silent.
“For today,” Matteo goes on, “I want you to pick one person you didn’t know before you got here, and spend all of this morning’s hike getting to know them.”
“Like some cheesy icebreaker?” Hunter calls out as Emma asks, “Will there be a test?”
“Yes to cheesy, no to a test,” Matteo replies, pointing at each of them as he answers. “Embrace the cheese, people! If you don’t, we’ll do even more icebreakers!”
A couple of people groan, but Matteo just grins.
“All jokes and threats aside, you came here to get outside your comfort zones, right? So let’s take that first step.”
Secretly, I adore a good icebreaker.
Give me all the scavenger hunts and forced-proximity get-to-know-you prompts: people tend to stay in their own lanes these days unless they’re shoved out of them, so as someone who actually enjoys making new friends, I’m all in favor of it; I find icebreakers fun, not torturous.
It should be noted that I am not, and have never been mistaken for, an introvert.
I’m scanning the group, torn between approaching Trey—he’s nice, and as a fellow coffee snob, I’d actually enjoy hearing all about their company—and one of the tennis girls.
But then I notice Zoe, looking around for her fiancé on instinct; I follow her gaze and see him chatting with Thorn and Trey. Parker and Emma have already paired up with Hunter and Silas, and Brittany is looking at Matteo like she would happily spend every day chatting with him.
“Looks like it’s me and you,” I say to Zoe. “Want to team up?”
Matteo joins us at the front of the group, Brittany at his side, while Thorn takes up the rear again. I’m hit with a surprising wave of disappointment at the realization that I won’t get to talk to him—or even see him, really—until we stop for a break at some point.
On the bright side, maybe I’ll be able to film some vlog footage in peace today. Zoe certainly won’t care.
“Everybody ready?” Matteo calls out.
Ready as I can be, I think. My muscles are less sore today, but I’ve got a blister forming on my left heel, cushioned with more Band-Aids than are strictly necessary. I tighten the straps of my pack, adjust my sunglasses, pull the brim of my black baseball cap just a bit lower—
And then we’re off.