Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 70528 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70528 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
A twinge of guilt tingles in my belly.
“Are you sure it was nothing? It’s pitch-black out there and I feel something watching us.”
He can’t even see out the windows with his head buried in a blanket, the giant goof.
I roll my eyes, but let them stray to the dark tree line, the trail we take during the day with zero hesitations appearing incredibly foreboding at night.
I shiver, shrugging Davis’s hands off me. “Wait. Did you just pull me in front of you as protection?”
“No.”
He looks guilty as all hell.
“Oh my god—you were going to use my body as a shield against bears!”
“No I wasn’t!” He pauses. “Besides, a bear can go right through you—you’re as flimsy as a sheet of paper as far as defense mechanisms.”
I smack him. “You’re horrible, do you know that? Horrible! I’m glad you only have one eyebrow—serves you right!”
Davis begins laughing, tipping his head back, the deep chuckle causes all my best girl parts to flutter.
“But seriously, Juliet, I am begging you not to open the door. Please.”
He sounds so earnest and sincere that I turn to look at him; and now that I’m giving him a closer inspection, I can see that he’s well and truly terrified.
“Davis, are you afraid of what’s outside?”
“No.” He hesitates far too long for that ‘no’ to be sincere. “Well, only if it’s like a bear or something that can eat me.”
“Are you afraid of bears?”
He shrugs, neither confirming or denying, though I suppose his nonverbals are confirmation enough and his fear would explain a lot about the way he’s acting.
Hmmm.
I look him over. “You know I’m here to protect you, right?”
I tease him in an attempt to lighten the mood, flexing my bicep. The gesture is humorous because he is so much bigger than I am, although I am so much braver.
Honestly, I’m a bit shocked he’s freaking out like this.
Never in a million years would I have pegged him for a guy that would have this kind of irrational fear. Not that I am judging him, I’m surprised, that’s all.
He’s afraid of something that is never going to hurt him, yet he is afraid regardless.
It’s not for me to say the fear is ridiculous, the same way he can’t tell me I shouldn’t be terrified of snakes. Or heights. I’m fine flying, but try to drive me across a bridge?
I turn into a blubbering idiot.
“My god, I’m so tired—I haven’t slept at all in the past few days.”
I nod to show my understanding. “Well you had a long day. You spent it hiding from Erik and Cookie, fried off your brow hair, now you’ve got bears lurking outside.”
Sucks to be him.
Davis draws in a breath, holds it a few seconds before letting it go.
“Pleaseletmesleepwithyou, Juliet,” he rattles off quickly, sounding like a kid. “I need thicker blankets, so I can hide and that protection you offered.”
“You’re absolutely ridiculous.”
“I’m begging you.” He folds his hands together in mock prayer, beseeching me so I’ll let him in the big bed and not make him sleep on the kitchen foldout table slash bed where he’s susceptible to attack.
“Honestly, I feel drunk with power.”
His face contorts. “I hate to bring this up but technically it would be my turn for the big bed since we’re sharing the camper and all, and neither one of us is paying for it. Wouldn’t etiquette dictate that we rotate every other night, ergo, this would be my night for the bedroom?”
Shit.
He’s right.
“It’s like that, is it?”
His chin nods. “Is it?”
A better human would concede to him because he’s absolutely right; I should one hundred percent sleep in the main living space tonight so he gets a good night’s sleep. After all, he has to be awake at the ass crack of dawn (or before that) and the foldout bed (if we can call it that) is hardly fit for a man of his size.
He hasn’t said anything about it, but I’d wager he doesn’t fit on it. Like, at all.
However, I am not a better person.
I am the person who thought they were going to be in the Caribbean sipping on island punch and laying in a swaying hammock between two palm trees—but that’s neither here nor there.
I am the person who also enjoys decent shut eye and REM sleep and not waking to a stiff back.
The reality is: I’m marooned in the woods, in a small glamper with a strange dude I’ve only just met (granted, he’s a cute dude); if I don’t want him to think I’m a complete shrew, I will give up and not argue.
However, I am also the human who would much rather share the big bed than sleep out in the living space and lose any sleep at all from being uncomfortable.
“I can’t even take you seriously right now.” I busy myself by folding and refolding the hand towel resting on the tiny kitchen counter, loud clanging outside our camper only growing louder.