“You can if your intentions are good. Come on, admit it, you enjoyed yourself.”
I enjoyed the excuse to be close to you and steal some skin-on-skin contact.
“Fine. But I reserve the right to embellish my suffering in the official record.”
“I would never interfere with your dramatic liberties. You’re far too cute when you give me attitude,” he said, landing a playful boop on my nose. “Tell ya what, I’ll also sweeten the deal with hot cocoa when we get back to camp.”
“Hot cocoa?” I said, feigning contemplation, doing my level best at pretending my brain hadn’t latched onto the word cute having been directed at me by him. “I find this agreeable. Your transgressions are tentatively forgiven, pending the quality of said cocoa.”
“It’ll be top-tier. Never fear.”
After we’d hiked on for several minutes he said, “I really am proud of you. There are seasoned outdoorsy people who wouldn’t dare step into that water. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, Ollie, it’s that in uncharted waters, you always take the plunge. You face the unknown head-on. That kind of willingness and courage is one of the most remarkable things about you. I’m especially glad for it right now, because it means you’re here with me.”
My mouth closed around everything I lacked the bravery to speak. So many truths lived in me, aching to be freed, yet they stayed locked in my chest. There were many things I’d grown to offer Luke freely, but my unfortunate crush I kept barricadedin my heart. Sometimes that secret ventured to my throat, even traveled as far as the tip of my tongue, settling behind my teeth, only an opening of my mouth away from spilling all over him. Thankfully, today those secrets remained locked within me. While I couldn’t give him the honesty of my feelings, I offered him a safer truth.
“I’m glad I came.”
His answering smile warmed me in a way no fire or hot chocolate ever could. In the way I’ve come to understand only Luke could.
By dusk we stepped into the clearing of our site. Luke knelt by the fire pit, arranging kindling and larger sticks in a careful teepee, but he had me strike the match. Shockingly, the flame caught on my first attempt, setting the wood ablaze.
“Alright,” he said, brushing soot from his palms. “Stage one complete. Fire is alive and crackling. Stage two, campfire chili followed by hot chocolate. I swear to you, both are at least thirty percent better in nature. It’s a scientifically proven wilderness enchantment.”
He turned his attention to the camp stove. After several minutes the chili bubbled in its pot. On the adjacent burner, the kettle heated for our beverages.
“So, what do you think?” Luke asked after I’d taken a bite.
“I agree with you. I’ve never had chili quite like this.”
With the cocoa poured into enamel mugs, Luke stretched his legs toward the fire with a satisfied sigh.
“Now,” he said. “Stage three. Campfire games while we eat s’mores.”
“You’re committed to the full camp curriculum, aren’t you?”
“S’mores are a camping staple, an absolute must for your initiation, no man left unindoctrinated. Besides, I know you can’t resist such deliciousness.”
I shrugged. He wasn’t wrong. If it was sugary and sweet I couldn’t resist. He was far more disciplined than me when it came to sweet consumption. “I make no apologies for my sweet tooth,” I said.
“Would never ask you to. And...” He reached into the bag of food supplies. “I even brought the superior dark chocolate bars. Seventy percent. Because I’m well acquainted with your rants about milk chocolate, the unnatural shiny coating, how it tastes like sweetened wax, and how it is ‘an insult to the cocoa bean and humanity at large.’ And I, in my infinite generosity, would never subject you to such mediocrity. Not even in the wilderness.”
It still sometimes surprised me how Luke took me into account daily, how he remembered things I said and built them into what he did. It also had the unfortunate side effect of making me fall even more hopelessly head over heels for him, an achievement, really, given that I had already tipped into a full somersault and had zero emotional balance left to lose.
Picking up a roasting stick and placing a marshmallow onto the tip, he passed it to me and I proceeded to stick it right into the middle of the flames.
“Whoa there, tiger,” Luke said. “We’re going for lightly roasted, not cremated. Keep it above the flame.”
Shifting his chair closer to me so our knees touched, he reached over, palm settling over my knuckles, guiding my hand until the marshmallow hovered over the flames. “See, like that. Let the fire kiss it for that golden finish.”
“Kiss me instead,”I almost blurted out loud. Clenching my jaw, I stared at the marshmallow. If I looked at Luke in that moment, with his head bent near mine, breath against my cheek, I would surely lose any last shred of my self-control.
When the marshmallow reached a perfect burnished bronze, he released my hand, none the wiser to the cardiac situation he had triggered. At this rate, I’d need a cardiologist on retainer;there was no way all these Luke-induced heart incidents could be medically advisable.
“The key to a perfect s’more,” he said, taking a graham cracker and breaking it into two halves. “Is embracing the mess. If your hands aren’t sticky and coated in chocolate and marshmallow by the end, you’ve done it wrong.”
Placing a perfect chocolate square onto one cracker, he handed me the other half. “Alright. Marshmallow onto the chocolate, then crown it with the top graham.”
While Luke held the bottom cracker, I used the top cracker to sandwich the marshmallow and slide it cleanly off the stick.
