Maybe it just means that he can at least be trusted for now with the stick, without running off with it.
Right?
My breath freezes in my chest for a moment.
Then I’m rushing to throw all my products back into my bag and making my way back to my tent. I waste no time, hopping over numerous tent pegs and strings at speed until my tent comes into view.
Wait – is the tent door open? Oh my God, did I leave it open?
Imagining the worst, I storm to the entrance to rip it open only to be met with Elliot’s harshly lit face. He peers up at me with surprise.
Oh. Right.
He’s wearing a grim smile. ‘Surprised to see me still here?’
I feel blood rush to my cheeks.
‘Er…’ I hesitate. ‘No, I mean – of course not.’
‘Good,’ he replies gravely. ‘I thought it was clear that I wouldn’t dare take the stick at this stage. No doubt that if I did you’d track me down and choke me.’
Hell, if he was into it I would.
I mentally scold myself and force a tight smile as I step back inside.
‘You’re not wrong.’
Stop having thoughts. Or have the thoughts later when he isn’t here, for fuck’s sake.
I turn away from him and start to look for my fluffy pyjamas. I threw them somewhere in here when I came back this morning and I’m so excited to get into them that my hands are practically shaking.
‘You don’t really think I’d steal it from you at this point, do you?’ His voice is dry with humour, but I think I can hear just a hint of hurt in it too.
‘After everything we’ve been through? No.’ I turn around to shoot him a more genuine smile this time. ‘Having said that, youdidhave me thinking that you might throw it off the side of a hill earlier, which I’m still processing.’
‘That’s–’
‘Could you turn around please?’ I ask, twirling my finger to demonstrate. ‘I need to change.’
He stops short and gives a quick nod. ‘Sure, just let me–’ He leans over to zip the tent entrance closed and sits back down facing the opposite direction.
‘Thanks.’
I resist moaning with ecstasy when I tug down my tight denim shorts and pull on my soft pyjamas.
‘Done,’ I announce, turning back to Elliot and my bed. Or rather – our bed.
My sleeping bag and pillow lie rumpled on the single sleeping mat. It’s never looked smaller. I try to regain control of my pulse.
Elliot clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck nervously.
‘So, uh – how do we want to do this?’ I ask.
‘Same as yesterday? Unzip the sleeping bag?’
‘Sure. I’ll get you a pillow,’ I say. ‘Do you want to do top and tail or something?’
‘Do I want to – what?’ Elliot says, his voice cracking.
