Lost and Found (Twist of Fate #1)(3)

A boy named Toby came up to sit next to me on the large rock where I’d perched after dinner. The breeze had picked up, and I noticed several kids slipping on warmer clothes. Dark clouds cast black shadows across the inky blue sky, and I was surprised I didn’t hear more animal noises. Owl hoots or bear growls or something.

Toby handed me a pile full of wide elastic straps and loose plastic pieces. I stared at the collection of items in my palms.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” I asked.

“Fix it for me,” he said.

I stared some more. “What’s it supposed to be?”

“Headlamp. I don’t know how to work it.”

“And you think I do?” I asked with a raised brow. “You’re talking to the guy whose lights at home are all controlled by his iPhone. I don’t know how to work an actual, physical light source.”

I turned to face him, moving to sit cross-legged so I could drop the pieces between my legs to keep them from rolling away. Apparently, this was a teaching moment I had to figure out. “Okay, first— parts identification. If it’s a headlamp, we know we need straps to go around the head. Any clue which of these pieces are the straps?” I gave Toby a blank look.

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t fuck with me. You’re not that stupid.” He grabbed the elastic straps and set them aside. That left several plastic pieces and a battery.

“Now, there should also be some kind of lighting apparatus,” I said in my best dorky voice. “A bulb, a lamp of sorts. An illumination station, if you will.”

“Jesus, you’re weird,” he muttered, grabbing the light-up portion of the device from the pile along with the battery.

“Hmm, finally, we need a way of connecting the light dealie to those complex wrappings—”

“I got it. Thanks for nothing, Einstein,” he said in a huff, grabbing the final clip left on the rock and wandering off.

“Huzzah! You knew how to do it yourself after all. Imagine that,” I called after him. “You’re welcome.”

He shot me a rude gesture over his shoulder and I smirked as I stood up to find my own sleeping bag. I stopped short.

Xander stood only a few feet away, staring at me. The electricity between us crackled ten times louder than any campfire. It was an unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome, surprise to the dynamic between us, since we hadn’t had the opportunity to explore that aspect of our friendship before we’d gone our separate ways as teenagers. Hell, I didn’t even know if he was gay. Probably not.

Not that it mattered, since the guy would just as soon beat my ass as do anything more pleasurable to it.

I wanted to say something. To tell him how much I missed him and how sorry I was for every bad decision I’d ever made that hurt him, but the words froze on my lips. By the time I could even take a breath, he’d turned away with a shake of his head.

I stared after him with a mixture of regret and resignation. His rejection stung just as much as it had several hours earlier in the parking lot.

He hated me.

And I didn’t blame him one bit. Not after turning him away fifteen years ago.

After standing there for a beat, I moved forward to find my sleeping bag so I could get it set up in my tent. I approached my large pack and began unbuckling the sleeping bag from the outside of it. I tossed it on the ground next to me and reached deep inside my frame pack for something warmer to change into.

Under Xander’s direction, the kids had split up into two groups of four people to form tent groups. I wasn’t sure if I was expected to join one of the small groups or form some kind of leader tent group with Xander. Just the thought of that made my dick twitch.

Simmer down, you lonely bastard, I thought. There’s nothing good for you here, so just do me a favor and hibernate for about seven days.

I glanced around to see where the object of my thoughts was, and caught him leaning over his own pack several yards away. It was almost fully dark by now, but there was enough ambient light from lanterns and head lamps to make him out. He’d taken off his boots and hiking shorts and was standing in just boxer briefs and a T-shirt.

Ohdeargod. He was standing there in his underwear.

The muscles of his thighs flexed as he shifted his weight, obviously looking for something in his pack. Xander’s long hair was loose from its tie and hung in thick waves over his shoulders. He was barefooted, which he’d told the rest of us to never be in the backcountry.

“Your feet are your only mode of transportation out here. Treat them like the invaluable resource they are. We can’t risk foot injuries, so remember: never go barefoot. Ever.”

It was so hard to get used to his deep masculine voice. The sound both surprised and comforted me because it still held such familiar notes. It was the sound of my childhood, of happy adventures on my parents’ huge property, of late nights spent lying side-by-side in his bed or mine when one of us snuck out to be with the other. Nothing ever happened, of course. We’d been too young and hadn’t spared much time for thoughts of serious things like sex. And honestly, we hadn’t needed to.

We’d had each other, after all, and that was all we’d needed.

“Would you like me to ask Toby for one of his straps to maybe rig your jaw up with?” Aiden’s voice cut through the quiet space around me, causing me to jump.

“What? What are you talking about?” I sputtered.