That Second Chance (Getting Lucky #1)(65)

I know I said I was cool with sleeping in the same tent as Griffin, but I’m all of a sudden extremely aware of the close confines we’ll be in. Over the last month or so, I couldn’t think of a better situation than sharing a tent with the kindest and hottest guy I’ve ever met, but now that it’s D-Day, my nerves are eating me alive, my will to be cool, calm, and collected quickly vanishing.

Is he going to be wearing clothes? What if he goes shirtless? I’ve never seen him with his shirt off; am I going to be able to not stare? What about shorts? Pants? Will he wear underwear only? Should I wear underwear only?

What am I thinking? Of course not. We’re camping, not having a sleepover.

This is a friend offering another friend space in his tent. That’s it, nothing more.

But then again, he held my hand tonight and gave me a hug for the first time, reassuring me I was welcome on this camping trip and melting my heart.

He was excited I was here.

He spent the entire night by my side, telling stories, making sure I was taken care of. He didn’t need to do that; he could have hung out with his brothers, but he chose me.

Our campsite comes into view, the fire dying down to embers, the three tents occupied, everyone but me settled in their beds. As I approach the orange tent I’m sharing with Griffin, my stomach ties itself in knots.

I clutch my toiletry bag and clothes to my chest. I can do this. It’s just sleeping.

Just. Sleeping.

If I can’t sleep next to this man, then I have no business being near him.

Finding a little bit of courage, I puff my chest and step in front of the tent, but I pause for a second. What if he’s naked or something in there? I should knock, but you can’t exactly knock on canvas. “Knock, knock,” I say instead. “It’s Ren. Are you decent?”

The low rumble of his chuckle washes over me. “Yeah, I’m decent. Remember, I took a shower, too, and I was smart enough to bring a towel.”

I open the tent to a dimly lit space and give him a narrowed look. “Low blow, Knightly, but at least I’m smart enough to know what a poison ivy leaf looks like.” He chuckles again as I take in the space we have, reality hitting me all at once.

One tent.

One air mattress.

One sleeping bag.

One pillow.

Oh crap.

Griffin must notice my mounting panic. “Uh, you can have the pillow and the sleeping bag. I usually get hot at night, so I’m good with this throw blanket.” He holds up a crocheted blue blanket that looks like it will cover the surface area of his chest, and that’s about it.

I tuck my things into my duffel bag in the corner and turn back to the mattress, eyeing it. This is stupid. We’re adults; we can make this work.

Plus . . . would it really kill me to share a bed with the man I’ve been crushing on for weeks? Maybe this is the final push he needs to make a move, to forget about that ridiculous, godforsaken curse.

I kneel down on the bed without saying anything and unzip the sleeping bag, spreading it out and slipping beneath. It’s warm, and I’m thankful I’m only wearing a tank top and shorts as I lie down. I prop my head up on my hand and pat the bed beside me.

“We’re adults, Griffin; we can share a bed. It’s fine.”

He scratches the back of his neck, his thick bicep pressing against his shirt sleeve, stretching it out, as he studies me. Even though I was nervous about him going shirtless, after watching the little bicep show, I kind of wish he were shirtless.

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“The only thing that’s going to make me uncomfortable is the thought of you sleeping under that itty-bitty blanket during this trip. Come on.” I flip up a corner of the sleeping bag, giving him access to join me. “It’ll be fine.”

He turns off the flashlight, darkening the tent, and gives the bed a final once-over before climbing in. The mattress shifts under his weight, jostling me around a bit until he’s settled into position, a good foot separating us. He bunches up the blanket and uses it as a pillow, keeping his gaze turned up to the ceiling of the tent.

Silence falls between us, and I’m unsure if I should say good night or not say anything, just let sleep take over. It feels awkward not to say anything, but with each minute that passes by, crickets and the rustling of Rylee and Beck’s tent the only things filling the peaceful night air, I can’t seem to form the words I need to.

So I surrender to sleep and shut my eyes, staying on my side, stiff as a board, not wanting to invade Griffin’s space, a little part of me extremely disappointed. I almost thought that maybe we would have another conversation, or maybe he would sleep a little closer, or maybe, just maybe, he would finally give in to the temptation I see in his eyes whenever he’s around me.

But from the quiet breathing coming from him and his motionless body, I’m going to let the scenarios I came up with in my head while showering start to slowly fade away.

We are sharing a tent.

And that’s as far as this night seems to go. Tent sharing.

Why do I feel like this is an epic fail on my part?

I wonder what he would have done if I’d announced I like to sleep naked and started stripping down. Would he have fled the tent as if there were a rattlesnake in it, or would he have easily joined me, stripping down to nothing as well?

Right about now, I think he’d be sprinting around the campsite, screaming like a little girl.