“Would you get in?”
He hits the spike once, then looks back up at me. When he tries to answer, I cut him off.
“Have you ever done that before? Gone skinny dipping?”
“No.”
“Yeah, me either.” I step over the log and continue my pacing. “Mm. We’re both virgin skinny dippers. That’s cute.”
He hits the spike a few more times. The branches under my feet snap.
“How old were you when you lost your virginity?” I ask, chewing on my thumb nail.
“Brooke.” Mason catches my gaze and studies it. He slowly rises to his feet. “Are you okay?”
I stop behind the log.
Am I? Fuck. He’s looking at me like I’m definitely not okay. Like I’m some wild animal he’s just encountered out here and he’s trying his hardest not to startle me.
I exhale a quick breath. My hand falls away. “I’m fine,” I tell him, stepping over the log again. “Just killing time while you . . .” I pause, looking up at the large red and gray house Mason has pitched. “Oh, you’re finished. Nice.”
Holy fuck. This thing is enormous! Not at all what I pictured in my head when he suggested we do this.
Two-man tent. Close quarters. Little room for space between our sweaty naked bodies.
Mm. Maybe I can unpack and spread my clothes out on one side. That should help force the two of us together. This portable condominium is large enough to contain Joey and his personality. Not many things are.
Mason drops the small hammer by our bags and comes to stand next to me. His hand circles my back. “Are you cold?” he asks when a shiver chases up my spine. “I can build a fire.”
I look from the tent to our surroundings again, my arms hugging my body. Mysterious noises rustle the branches of the trees. Crickets sing into the night. It’ll be fully dark soon.
A knot forms in my stomach.
From being out here? From my conversation with Juls? I can’t seem to tell.
“Maybe we can just stay in tonight?” I softly suggest, turning back to Mason.
He cocks his head, trying to understand. I’m sure he thinks I mean stay in tonight, in the car.
I might. Give me an hour.
“We have all day tomorrow to be out in this . . . stuff. You know?” I gesture around us, then at the tent. “Honestly, I’m feeling a little anxious, if you didn’t notice. This is a lot for me, Mason. Being out here. Roughing it. Could we just stay in the tent the rest of the night? Would that be horrible?”
A gentle smile lifts the corner of his mouth. “You, all to myself in a tent? Nothing horrible about that.” He tugs on my pony. “You want a fire or no?”
I shake my head, spinning around to open my bag. “No. I’m really not that cold. Can we walk to the bathrooms though? I want to brush my teeth and stuff.”
“Yeah, sure.”
He grabs his toothbrush and a flashlight, leading me down another path after he stores our things inside the tent.
I’m one extremely happy girl when it takes us no more than a minute to get to the bath houses. I can easily find this on my own.
We separate and wash up. I scrub my face clean and fix my hair into a sleeker pony.
When we get back to the campsite, it’s nearly dark. Mason unzips the flap on the tent and holds it open for me to climb inside.
I toe my shoes off and step in.
“Wow. Swanky,” I say, admiring the large dome ceiling and mesh windows. He’s left them partially unzipped, allowing for a cool breeze and the moonlight to cut through.
Mason smiles as he ducks to enter and closes us inside. He sets the flashlight down and turns on a lantern, sitting it on top of the cooler. Soft light fills the tent. He kneels and unrolls the sleeping bag in the center of the space.
“Room for two,” he murmurs, shooting me a heated look.
Yes, please.
Leaving it zipped up, he stretches out on his back and pats the spot next to him.
I wet my lips and lower to my knees, crawling closer. I let my head fall beside his. “So, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
“What’s that?”
“What made you leave Australia three years ago? Was it like a yoga thing? Were you wanting to study it here?”
“No, it had nothing to do with yoga.”
I stare at his profile when he doesn’t elaborate. My foot nudges his calf. “Were you in love with her?”
Shit. I need to get my mouth under control. Do I even want to know his answer? Will it matter to me one way or the other?
He looks at me briefly, just a glance, then resumes staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t know. If you had asked me that question three years ago I would’ve said yeah. I followed a woman to another country. I felt something for her. I said it, more than once.”
“I love you,” I quietly offer.
His head snaps in my direction and he gives me the strangest look, full of intrigue and stunned disbelief. Questions. So many questions in those bright eyes staring back at me.
I swallow before I continue. My tongue suddenly feels too large for my mouth. “That’s what you said. You told her you loved her.”
His lips part with a rushed exhale. “Yeah.”
“What does it feel like when you say it?” I bite my lip, rolling to my side to look at him. I prop my head up on my fist.
“You’ve never said it?” he asks, his eyes searching my face. He continues after I shake my head. “What about to your family and stuff? Like a best mate, you say it to them?”