“Wow, he really has a quip for everything, doesn’t he?” Percy murmurs. “He’s as bad as Juno.”
“Try living with him,” I whisper with a laugh.
He snickers. “Like I said, he’s as bad as Juno.”
“Alright, let’s take a look.” I kneel down and start taking the tent apart so I can figure out where he went wrong.
Percy squats down next to me, his shoulder bumping mine, our hands brushing as we both reach for the same pole at the same time. Maybe there reallyissomething wrong with his tent. He might need to sleep with someone else. Likememaybe.
If I pull the pole out a little too forcefully it’s a complete accident. It’s a quality tent though, and the poles are built to withstand a lot more than clumsy handling… unfortunately. Even more unfortunate, there’s nothing wrong with it at all. He just didn’t slot the poles together right the first time. I show him how to line them up and screw them together the right way, then demonstrate how to thread it through.
“Why don’t you do the right side.” I hand him the next pole. “That’s right, nice and easy, don’t force it. They want to fit together, so you don’t need to get rough with it.”
Percy’s face flushes and he coughs.
“I don’t know if that sounds extremely pornographic or if I’ve already spent too much time around Fender for one day,” he mutters.
My skin heats and I’m tempted to brush the stray curl off his forehead, but I keep my hands to myself and just laugh.
“Probably a little of both. Now, go ahead and ease it into the hole, nice and slow. Guide it through.”
“Okay, that definitely sounds dirty.” He shakes his head and grins as he threads the pole through.
It only takes us a few minutes to get his tent up and staked to the ground firmly enough to withstand hurricane force winds. We stand up and Percy brushes his hands off on his jeans, glancing around.
“Figures, I’m the last done,” he says with a sigh.
“Honestly, that’s for the best. The last two times it was Slater who finished last, and trust me when I tell you that youdon’twant him cooking dinner.” I nudge Percy’s shoulder. “I’ll help cook if you want though.”
“Um, sure, that sounds good.”
“Awesome. But first, I think we have enough daylight for a little climb that’s just a quarter mile away. What do you say?”
Percy grimaces, then forces a smile.
“Alright, Coach, my life is in your hands.”
CHAPTER TEN
PERCY
Butch clapsme roughly on the shoulder then jogs back over to the van to grab the climbing equipment. With all the tents set up and everyone settled in, the shift in energy around the campsite is palpable. It’s like being out in nature has turned them all feral, put them in touch with their inner cavemen, and I have to wonder again if I’m enough of a bro to fit in here.
Callan grabs Silas in a headlock, wrestling and shit-talking a bit before challenging him to a race up some trail. Silas agrees and they both take off sprinting into the woods. Dre mutters something to Xeno and Ezra before blowing them both a kiss and taking off after Callan and Silas with a predatory grin on his face. Fender strips down to nothing but a pair of boots and struts through the clearing bare-assed, gathering sticks and kindling for a fire like it’s a totally normal thing to do with your balls out. AJ and Slater shout something about swimming and then disappear into the trees in the opposite direction to the other three. I watch the chaos with sweaty palms and a racing heart.
“Ready to go?” Butch returns with a smile and a heavy looking pack slung over his shoulders.
“Uh, yeah.” I glance over at Fender one more time and swallow a laugh. “As long as I don’t have to climb naked.”
I’m sure it’s just a trick of the light or a stress-induced delusion, but for a second, I could swear Butch’s eyes roam over me and his smile turns from friendly to heated.
“Don’t give Fender any ideas,” he murmurs after a second, and we both chuckle. “Come on.” He jerks his head in roughly the same direction Callan and the others took off, and I gather my courage to follow him.
With the trees blocking most of the sun’s rays, it’s nice and cool in the forest. Twigs snap under our boots and birds chirp and whistle in the trees as I follow him along the narrow trail, his wide shoulders catching on branches and carving a path ahead for us.
“So… is nudity a pretty normal part of the camping experience for you guys?” Does the question sound casual or does it make me sound like a perv who’s hoping for a massive orgy around the campfire? I guess I’d rather sound like a sex fiend than an anxious nerd who’s having heart palpitations at the idea of having to choose between nearly a dozen gymbos seeing me naked or being the only weirdo to keep his clothes on.
“Not like we all walk around naked the whole weekend or anything, but we’re pretty casual about it out here. Well, except for Fender. He might be naked the whole weekend.” Butch shrugs and looks back at me over his shoulder. “Is that a problem? I can tell everyone to keep their pants on if it makes you uncomfortable. We just usually don’t think much about it.”
