by Hayleigh Sol
Finally, on the morning of our final full day together, I knew what had to be done.
“My grandparents never stay awake for the fireworks. I can pretend to be asleep until I’m sure they are, then sneak out to meet you somewhere.” My parents had come and gone the weekend before, adding two additional sets of eyes intent on preventing teen pregnancy. Good thing they were already home; they’d have been another obstacle to overcome and my dad always slept like a new mother, waking at any abnormal sound.
Luka was nodding. “And my family will be down by the water to watch the show like they always do. It’s so dark down there, plus they’ll be drinking, I doubt they’ll notice if I disappear for a bit. Maybe I can get Jakub to cover for me if they do notice, tell them I was feeling sick or something.” His smile warmed as the plan took shape.
In the afternoon, I took some quarters down the road to shower at another campground that offered that paid luxury. I was nervous but mostly excited; I hoped with all my innocent little heart that I’d be less innocent by the end of the night.
Incredibly, the gods of horny teenagers everywhere smiled down on us and everything went according to plan. The campsite Luka’s family had been staying in was dark, except for the dim light from a battery–operated lantern sitting on the picnic table. Stealthily, I approached the tent I knew was his, looking around and over both shoulders so many times you’d think I was committing the most daring heist of the century.
Crap, what to do now? Should I wait outside his tent until he showed up? What if he hadn’t been able to get away or someone else came with him?
Pinching the zipper, I was considering waiting inside for him—at least I’d be out of sight and could sneak away later if he wasn’t alone—when he whispered my name.
I jumped as if I were on a spring and stifled my squeal. “Ohmygod, Luka, I didn’t know you were there.”
“Sorry, babe.” He was still whispering and it was the first time he’d called me by a pet name. I’d always thought I’d hate something like that but, coming from him, it sounded perfect. “I think we’re safe. It was so crowded at the beach that our group kinda blended in with two or three others. I couldn’t even see my parents when I left so I told Jakub and Alex to tell them I’d headed back to camp.”
He kissed me then and, whether he sensed my nervousness or was simply being his gentlemanly self, he asked if I was sure.
Nodding my head, I pressed my lips to his and poured all the desire I felt for him into my kiss. “Definitely.”
Unzipping the door to the dome–shaped tent, he held the flap up so I could crawl inside before him. As he closed the door again, I glimpsed brilliant starbursts from the fireworks show over the lake and cracked a joke inside my head about celebrating my own Independence Day. We sat on his bed, the air mattress under his sleeping bag making rude noises that had me giggling. Luka reached for me and his searing kisses quickly silenced my laughter.
It was a little awkward and uncomfortable, but he was sweet. Just like everyone’s first should be. Of course, I later figured out that I hadn’t really achieved orgasm, but the feeling of him moving inside me held a magic of its own.
Chapter 13
My new air mattress remained inflated through the night but, holy shitballs, my thirty–two–year–old body did not like sleeping on the ground. Before venturing out from the safety of the tent, I contorted myself into some yoga positions I remembered from the few times I’d attempted the practice in search of peace and inner balance. Balance wasn’t an issue for me—thanks to my years of ballet, most likely—but my brain had waged an intense war with yoga. It simply hadn’t had the patience for holding a pose for five full breaths and it refused to believe this stretchy–bendy bullshit counted as exercise.
A peace summit was convened, where I promised I was done with yoga and my brain agreed to try meditation for ten minutes a day.
Namaste.
The kink in my neck and the massive, throbbing ache in my back weren’t the only parts of me that ached. I’d awoken thinking of Luka, just as I had all those summers ago. He was just so damn good–looking, yet so easy to be around.
Resolutely reminding myself we were simply old friends catching up, enjoying the company of another person while we were both up here solo, I got dressed for the trail. Okay, so I admit I slapped on a little eyeliner and mascara. But sometimes I did that for a run to the grocery store if the image in the mirror was a little blah.
Yep, that was my story and I was sticking to it.
While I ate a light breakfast, I checked my phone, expecting a continuation of the past few days’ one–bar–two–bar–one–bar shuffle. I really did need to check in with Brad and the staff on Monday, go through emails, call any clients or vendors who required my personal touch. It would probably be best to skip the boat trip this afternoon in favor of finding cell service. Getting some prep work done.
Sighing to myself, I did the weird ass–out shuffle one was forced to perform to extract oneself from a picnic table. How did kids make this look so easy? Little monkeys.
I felt a familiar twinge. Oh joy, the old hamstring strain I’d gotten from an overextended grand jeté back in college was acting up. Hiking or trail running would only make matters worse if I didn’t properly warm up and stretch the individual muscles of the hamstring. Hoisting my leg up on the bench I’d just freed myself from, I went through my routine.
My phone started buzzing with incoming messages. Had I found the one magic reception zone in the area?
There were several new texts from my mother. I’d need to get in touch with her every few days or she’d have a panic attack. Mom, bless her heart, was the type of woman who struggled to understand I was comfortable—and often preferred—going to dinner or movies by myself. The first time I’d told her about a movie date with myself, she’d gotten tears in her eyes and immediately recruited her friends to help me “find a man”.
Despite my best efforts, she still believed my alone time was never a matter of choice. Camping alone apparently had her in a real tizzy.
A stream of group texts between my friends loaded. We really had to stop the group–text insanity; Emma and Simone had a string of emojis going back and forth that I couldn’t begin to translate. A few messages in the mix were for me, asking about my adventures in the woods, encouraging me to relax and not think about work, telling me to find a flannel–wearing mountain man to roll around in the dirt with—that last contribution had come from Holly, unsurprisingly. My mind helpfully supplied an image of Luka in a flannel shirt, open down the front and displaying his sexy six–pack.
Wonder if he still has one… Nah, he’s probably sporting a beer bump and love handles.
Not that I’d felt anything soft or squishy either time he’d hugged me.
I skipped the personal messages and opened my email, hardly believing I finally had service. This gift had to be appreciated; going through my inbox couldn’t be delayed or I’d frighten those lovely bars away.
Since Brad was still receiving my forwarded company messages, I wasn’t too worried that customers or vendors were awaiting responses from me. I did want to know what I’d missed, though, so I skimmed through everything we’d received since I’d been out of touch. Nothing urgent, from what I could tell, which left me feeling an odd mix of joyful freedom and disappointment that I wasn’t needed. Almost like a parent leaving their kid with a babysitter and discovering everyone had been fine and Mom and Dad hadn’t been missed at all.
I told myself this was a good thing; the company was running smoothly and Brad was there to keep it that way. This was the hoped–for outcome of our trial run after all. Besides, I’d still only been gone over a weekend. Not even that yet.
God, was I hoping some Monday morning problem might crop up that would require my attention? I had issues.
There was a
message from Evan I clicked into, one that tickled my spidey senses in a way I couldn’t quite put my finger on. It was odd enough that he’d emailed me on a Sunday morning, but his heads up that Brad and Tiffany had been in a closed–door meeting in the conference room for over an hour on Friday was even more strange.
According to Evan, they’d looked “awfully chummy” through the windows. He wanted to make sure I knew, given the current status of my relationship with Brad, and he asked if I thought there might be something going on between them. It was sweet of Evan to worry about me, though I suspected he was also trying to stir up a little gossip tornado. Particularly when he mentioned that Meg and Cory stopped by his desk with questions about the meeting he hadn’t known how to answer.
When Brad and Tiffany had exited the room, according to Evan, neither of them had so much as hinted at what had been discussed and they’d immediately left for lunch together. Evan made sure to mention they’d both climbed into Brad’s SUV. The lunch wasn’t completely abnormal. Sometimes I’d treat one of the staff when they’d been mentioned in a positive online review or if I knew they’d gone above and beyond with a customer.
Several things about Evan’s email poked at me. Much as I was now poking at the two, three…seven mosquito bites I’d somehow acquired on my calves and ankles. Those little bastards must’ve followed me into the tent last night.
Don’t scratch, Maya, it’ll only make ‘em worse. Whatever you do, don’t scratch.
I read over the email a second time. I didn’t want to consider that Brad and Tiffany might be seeing each other, though there was that odd night they’d both returned to the office at the same time, and I’d always suspected he was interested. Personally, I thought it unprofessional of them to carry on in the office in front of the rest of the staff but, from what Evan said, they hadn’t exactly been humping against the glass wall.
A hand strayed to the side of one ankle, fingernails pressing into the skin all around an especially large red welt.
Little bugger must’ve tapped an artery. Hope she enjoyed the meal.
Brad moving on wasn’t a shock; the evidence of his dating had already found me. At the mall, of all places. It had been strangely reminiscent of high school, finding out your crush was seeing another girl when you spotted them holding hands at the movie theater on a Friday night.
Perhaps my current twitchy vibe was due to it being Tiffany, who’d never been my favorite person, or that he would pursue someone who worked for me. Maybe it was simply that we hadn’t officially ended things. I thought we were on a break, that he was hoping we’d get back together. Those were his very words not so long ago.
Or maybe it was just these demon bug bites!
Slapping at the skin around the worst of the itchy spots was how Luka found me.
“I am approaching the campsite now, do not be frightened.” His words were accompanied by deliberately noisy steps through the leaves and twigs littering the ground, hands splayed in front of him in a pacifying gesture, and an ever–present smile on his handsome mug.
“Thanks for the warning, Walks With Heavy Boot. Notice I didn’t even jump this time.”
I returned his grin and, I’m unabashed to admit, scoped him out. When we’d first bumped into each other at the diner, I’d been so stunned to see him that I hadn’t taken adequate time to check him out. Last night had been too dark and he’d been wearing pants. Probably a wise choice with the bloodthirsty skeeters around here. Now I could appreciate the way his lightweight hiking shorts hugged his butt when he turned to set his backpack on the bench in front of me. His legs looked good—nice muscle tone in the calves, not a chicken in sight—and so did the rest of him.
“Did you get some distressing news?” He gestured toward my phone on the table at my questioning look. “I saw you smacking yourself when I walked up.”
“Ah. Damn mosquitoes feasted on me last night. The slapping helps keep me from scratching.”
His eyebrows raised. “Does it?”
“No, not really. At the moment, there is nothing I want more in this world than to scratch the hell out of these bites. Not even a real bed.” I picked up my own backpack—a small one that contained water and a mini first aid kit—and pulled my arms through the shoulder straps. “I’m hoping the hike will distract me from the itchiness. And my sore back.”
He glanced toward the tent and back to me. “What’re you sleeping on in there?”
I told him and he shook his head pityingly. “Old school, huh? You gotta try one of those inflatable sleeping pads. It’ll change your life.” His head tilted, the thoughts inside it a mystery to me. “I’d offer to share, but maybe we should spend a little more time together before I try to get you into bed with me.”
My jaw hit the pine needle–covered ground. Luka’s smile stretched and he picked up his backpack again. “Ready to hit the trail?”
At another campground within walking distance of ours was the trailhead for an easy, mostly flat, and well maintained trail. It wasn’t one I’d been on much before, mainly because my family preferred the less crowded paths or the lake. Luka’s family must’ve shared that opinion because he volunteered that the trail wasn’t usually too packed on a Sunday until later in the day.
Once we got off the road and into the forest, we set a brisk pace and I was relieved to see he wasn’t a slow meanderer. A stroll in the woods probably would’ve been more conducive to the relaxation I was trying to achieve on this vacation, but it just wasn’t my speed. I could slow down and smell the roses when I was dead.
Retired. I meant retired.
Actually, even at a faster clip, I was able to relax and find peace in the evergreen forest around me. A narrow creek ran alongside the trail for the first half mile or so and we even spotted a doe through the trees. I breathed deeply, filling myself up with the piney scent I loved about this place.
“So, you were finally able to get cell service? I wasn’t sure if I should text you before coming by this morning.”
In certain places, the path was wide enough for Luka to walk beside me, as he did now. “It’s funny, the bars only seem to like me in this one tiny little spot. At least I had a chance to check my email for any catastrophes.”
“And were there any?”
He was looking at me a little too intently, making me wonder what kind of expression I’d had when he walked into camp this morning.
“I don’t know if I’d call it a catastrophe.” What would I call Evan’s information? “More of an…interesting, potentially problematic development.”
Luka’s attention shifted from navigating the terrain back to me, waiting for elaboration. With a sigh, I told him about Evan and what he’d seen on Friday. My suspicions about what that closed door had meant.
“Sorry to hear that, Maya. I imagine it’d be difficult to work with your ex and watch him start seeing other women.”
“Yeah, in a way, I guess. I was trying to figure out what bothered me more this morning: that he would choose to date one of my employees—who might become his employee, too, by the way—or that he would choose her specifically.” I gave my head a little shake in frustration. With Brad and Tiffany, with Evan for sharing news that might not even be news, and with myself for wondering and worrying. “Heck, I don’t even know if that’s what was going on. They could’ve just been discussing accounts.”
Luka stopped to hold a branch out of the way for me to pass and I thanked him for the consideration. “Is that what you’re hoping – that it was all innocent and work–related?”
I thought about his question and what it seemed like he was really asking me. “Yes, but not because I want him back. I’m a firm believer that you shouldn’t date anyone you work with, certainly not an employee when you’re the boss. There will always be concerns among the rest of the staff about favoritism, especially in a company like mine where the employees earn bonuses on bigger projects. Then, for
the couple in question, there’s the imbalance of power—whether real or perceived—the potential for bad feelings if the relationship ends. Not to mention lawsuits. Just…too many issues to make it worth the risk.”
Luka was nodding in agreement with my points. “I hope, for your sake, that Evan was wrong.” We came to a trail crossing and stopped to read the sign as we sipped water from our packs.
“You up for the longer one?”
He nodded then bent to tighten a shoelace, which made me reflexively glance down to check my own. “Tell me more about this partnership deal with…”
“Brad. His name’s Brad.”
“Yeah. What’s the plan there?”
I explained Brad’s idea that he front Green for Green some capital in exchange for an ownership percentage. He would help manage the staff and we’d make decisions about vendors, clients, everything, together.
“And you’ve been doing all that on your own all this time?”
“Pretty much, yeah. Brad’s helped a lot, though, especially as we’ve gotten so busy in the last couple of years. It’s only right that he receive something for his efforts.”
Luka had questions about Brad’s own company and what he had to offer as a partner in mine. It didn’t feel like he was prying, just curious, maybe even a little protective of my interests. It was sweet.
“If I’m totally honest, I don’t know if I want someone else making the big decisions, shaping the future of the company, with me. It might be foolish pride but, I don’t know, Brad and I don’t always see eye to eye on…well, a lot of things. Since we stepped back from being a couple, I can see that more and more.”