She frowns, the line between her eyes reappearing. “I’m not—” Then she finally opens her eyes all the way and looks down. It’s clear the instant she realises what’s happening. Her skin flames and her hands jump away as if I’m burning her for real, disappearing inside the sleeping bag and pulling it up to her chin. “Oh god. I’m so— Wow. Oh, okay.” She’s moved enough to discover my raging erection. “You’re…”
Arm free, I take the opportunity to roll away. I sit up, thanking all the heavens that I decided to sleep in my clothes.
“Coffee?”
“Er, yeah. Thanks.”
I busy myself with the Trangia, stepping out of the tent to light it and into the morning. The air is crisp, but the sky is blue as far as I can see: the storm has blown itself out overnight, leaving wet green grass, and a clearness to the air that only comes after the heaviest of rains.
Rowan’s tent is all but collapsed: one pole has buckled, and the tear in the canvas is now a rent all the way down the side, which flaps idly in the breeze. She won’t be sleeping in that again in a hurry.
I nod at Priya and Lila, who are already halfway through their breakfasts, and well on their way to packing up. Rowan and I will need to get a move on. Today will be another long day – the home stretch to Fort William – and I want to make it there in time for a proper dinner. Those mussels are calling my name.
I duck back inside with Rowan’s coffee and hand it to her where she’s finally pull herself into a sitting position, still tangled up in the bedding, her hair mussed, falling over one shoulder in a wave. I’m grateful that I’ve had a second to getmyself under control, because seeing her like this sends another spark to my groin.
How does she have this power over me? I’m not sure I’ve ever felt like this before.
“The others are up.” I gesture behind me. “We should head out soon.” I hesitate. I need to say something. Need to address the elephant in the room.
But she beats me to the punch.
“Angus, I’m sorry about this morning – I mean, last night. Or both? I guess both, because I probably grabbed you while I was asleep and while I’d argue I shouldn’t be held accountable for what I did while I was unconscious, it’s still not cool to manhandle someone who’s saved your bacon, especially with no consent. Normally, I’m a huge fan of consent. Stickler for it, actually. So… Oh gosh. I’m spinning myself in circles, I guess what I’m trying to say is, thank you for not making a bigger deal out of it, okay?”
I close my mouth, confession aborted.
“Right.”
She lowers her head into her palms. “You’re angry with me. I know, I know, just because we kissed, I shouldn’t have presumed – again, it did happen in my sleep, and I didn’t mean to, and one could argue that you were the one with the you-know-what this morning – but you’re right. You were so kind and I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you, and I’m so sorry.” She takes a deep breath, peeking up at me between her fingers. “Can we… Please? Can we go back to being friends?”
“Friends?”
“Okay, maybe not friends. You’re right – we hardly know each other – but friendly acquaintances? Hiking pals? People who have spent some pleasant time together and might have started out thinking the other is deeply annoying but have realised that maybe they’re inoffensive?”
“Inoffensive?”
She stares at me. She’s talking so fast and it’s all swirling around in my head: friends, pals, acquaintances, inoffensive, and none of it is how I’ve been thinking of her. None of it is close at all.
So what if we kissed? So what if it was hot and sweet and everything in between? So what if she fits perfectly in the space between my arms?
Clearly, Rowan feels different. And if that’s what she wants, who am I to argue?
It’s better this way. A few more days, and then we’ll both be free.
“Angus? Are we alright?”
I force myself to nod through the ice that is gripping my chest. “Aye, London. All good here.” I check my watch. “Five minutes okay for you?”
“Five minutes?” She blinks at me.
“Before we start packing up?”
“Oh. Yes. I- I suppose. That should be fine?”
“Grand.” I nod again. “I’ll give you some space then.”
I don’t wait for her response. Outside, Priya and Lila are almost ready to go; beyond them, a familiar figure is hobbling towards us. Ewan, limping along with the assistance of two neon pink crutches, a massive grin on his face. When he sees me, he stops, balancing himself on one crutch and using the other to wave.
“Oi oi!” he shouts across the campground. “Look who it is!”
