Back to the coffee: everything I need to make it is in my pack, which is still over in my crumpled pile of tent unless a bear made off with it in the middle of the night. My clothes for today are still in my pack, too.
I unzip Thorn’s tent, poke my head out.
Someone revived the campfire at some point, and the smell of it mixes with the pleasant aroma of coffee. Hunter, Silas, and Trey are up,along with Parker and Emma, circled around their coffee setup, while Zoe looks on from afar, snacking on dried fruit.
On instinct, I scan for Thorn. I don’t immediately spot him—
But then my eyes lock on his light blue T-shirt: he’s down by the stream, having what appears to be an intense one-on-one with Matteo.Interesting. His shoulders look good in that shirt, but not nearly as good as in my dream, when he hadnoshirt.
I tear my gaze away before someone catches me staring.
My mess of a tent looks even worse than I remember. I examine the fabric, run my fingers down the gaping gash. Thorn was right: it’s pretty much unsalvageable.
I rummage around in my pack. It’s much easier to get to my coffee gear with half of my stuff still in the tent, waiting to be repacked.
“Sadie!” Trey calls out from across the clearing. “Made a cup for you, as promised!”
Oh, right. I had forgotten he’d offered to share some of their company’s coffee with me this morning—this is good, actually. Not having to make my own will buy me extra time to pack up my stuff. I refuse to make everyone wait on me again today.
He heads my way, carrying a steaming metal camp cup that boasts the same octopus logo as the tattoo on his forearm.
“Thank yousomuch,” I say. I take a sip when he hands it over, careful not to burn my tongue, and it’s definitely some of the best coffee I’ve ever had. “Wow, Trey—this is incredible!”
A cool breeze ripples through the air, leaving my own tattoo-less arms covered in goosebumps.
Trey’s eyes drift down to my chest—
Which is when I have the unfortunate realization that I’m not wearing a bra, and these silk pajamas leave absolutely nothing to the imagination.
I cross my arms over my chest just as he realizes he’s staring.
His cheeks go pink as he averts his eyes. “Glad you like it! I, uh, gotta go pack up—you can keep the cup for now.”
He heads over to his tent, and not a second too soon.
“How’d you sleep?” a familiar voice says a moment later when I’m elbow-deep in my pack, hunting for a sports bra.
When I glance over my shoulder, there’s Thorn, sipping on his own cup of coffee.
I’m still very much in my pajamas, and the chill in the breeze is most definitely still…hard to miss.
I grab the first thing I see (my toiletry bag) and hug it to my chest, but it’s not quite wide enough to cover everything.
Not that I’membarrassedof my oh-so-obvious nipple situation—they’re nice nipples, thank you very much—but just the thought of Thorn noticing them is enough to send me straight back to my dream, and everything he did to them.
“How’d I sleep?” I repeat, buying myself time to figure out something true that doesn’t make me sound like a princess out of her element. “It was…more comfortable than I expected.”
Not a lie. It was. I just expected worse.
“How about you?” I ask.
“Decent,” he replies. “Oh, here”—he reaches in his pocket with his free hand, pulls out my sleep mask—“thanks for this. It did help with the sun.”
I take it and bite back a grin, fighting the urge to sayI told you so.
“Couldn’t resist some fancy coffee?” I say instead, nodding to his camp cup. “I can’t help but notice I’m not the only one who brought enough to share.”
“Wouldn’t want it to go to waste, right?”
