“I thank every star in the sky for that.” He swoops down and kisses me as one of his hands steadies the side of my face.
“I’ll be more open tomorrow,” I promise him.
“That’s my girl,” Ryan tells me, and as we get near our truck, he undoes the tent, gesturing for me to go inside. We fall over each other as we clamber into it, still feeling the effects of the alcohol and drugs.
After situating ourselves on the mattress, we stay up into the night laughing about nearly everything.
In the back of my mind, my stomach turns at the thought of being vulnerable. These people are not what they seem.
CHAPTER
SEVEN
Day 2
The sun shines through the tent, and I shield my eyes with my hands, abruptly turning over so my face is in the pillow to block the sun.
For as long as I can remember, I have always been a morning person, but this hangover is absolute agony, and it feels like someone has taken a hammer to my head.
Out of nowhere, Ryan hops up on the truck’s tire and pokes his head in the tent’s window that he must have already unzipped. In a chipper tone, he says, “Morning, beautiful,” as he holds out a steaming mug of coffee.
The aroma of it seeps into the tent, and I squint my eyes at it, gaping at the delicious liquid that many could argue is just about as good as sex.
I extend my arm, wanting to snatch it from him like a feral animal, but I gently take hold of the handle and bottom of the cup, bringing it to my face.
My mood improves right away.
“You’re one of a kind,” I declare, my voice scratchy.
Knocking my leg, he says, “Hurry up and get dressed. We need to get out to the lake. I’m heading out there now. All you have to do is go west from where we are, and there are some signs; you can’t miss them. I have to get my lures ready.” He leans in, planting a wet kiss on my cheek, he adds, “See you in a few, you divine creature.”
He drops down and bangs the side of his truck with his fist twice, signaling to me he’s leaving.
I grimace, annoyed at the idea of fishing while the sun blares over us with this horrible hangover. My mind comes up blank for anything worse.
While sipping my coffee and reveling in its taste, my eyes adjust to the sun.
After downing my coffee, I feel a brisk chill and wrap my arms around myself, mentally reminding myself to pack a jacket.
Deciding to brush my teeth, I scan the tent for my bathroom bag and gather some hygiene wipes to scrub myself down so I don’t smell like a sweaty distillery. This kind of camping is not for the faint of heart. I’m beginning to fantasize about hot showers and toilets.
The whole primitive camping thing this week will be my first and last time; there’s no way I’m agreeing to this again. We could’ve stayed closer to the community areas, but that’s not camping to Ryan.
I roll my eyes and suppress a laugh, thinking that I really hope Ryan loves natural body scents because after about a week of this, the stench coming from us will unnerve people.
As I step into new underwear and thermals, I hold my bag of toiletries tightly to my chest and guard it with my life.
Yes, I know it’s Florida, but I’m freezing all the time. I would never survive snowy weather. I shiver at the mere thought.
Climbing out of the tent, my feet hit the ground.
“Well, you don’t look too bad after last night,” a familiar voice taunts.
My stomach bottoms out as I jerk around and see Jared before me, picking his teeth with a Swiss knife.
Deep breaths, Marley, you can’t let these weirdos think they have the upper hand on you.
“Coffee will do that.” I shrug, eyeing him up and down, startled by his presence.
