Page 10 of A Little Campfire Blues
“Okay, so any one of the three will do as long as it’s got a bed and a place for me to plug in my phone charger.”
“Trust me, you want to look before you decide. They’ve all goten suitebathrooms, but one of them has a huge fuckin’ shower and a sunken tub.”
“You can have that one if you want. I don’t need huge or a tub, just a shower stall, some warm water, and a shelf to put my shit on.”
“If you insist.”
“I do,” I said as I headed out to bring in the rest of my stuff, Roman hot on my heels to help me.
“What’s the second cooler for?” he asked as I tossed a pillow on top of it.
But when I reached for the second duffle bag, he snagged that and the box of staples I’d brought, cutting me a look when I opened my mouth to once again insist that I could get everything.
“Don’t need you tripping on the way up the stairs, spraining an ankle, and spending the rest of camp limping around complaining that you can’t go hiking or take part in some of the rest of the activities.”
“One time, one fucking time, I tripped going upstairs, and you’ll never let me forget it.”
“Because you were being stubborn when it happened the way you’re trying to be stubborn now.”
He was right, not that I was willing to admit it when he was already wearing that smug look on his face. I just grumbled beneath my breath about how stubborn-ass people shouldn’t go around calling other people stubborn, which of course he heard.
“That’s exactly why they are the only ones with the right to call other people out for their bullshit,” he pointed out as we headed to the kitchen to unload the rest of my supplies. “Because we know exactly what the hell it looks like when a case of stubbornness is about to come back and bite someone in the ass.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, opening the marshmallows and popping one in my mouth before I stuck them in the fridge.
“Dude, they go in the cupboard.”
“They go in the fridge so they stay cold and don’t stick together while they swelter in a plastic bag,” I grumbled once I’d finished chewing my sweet, sticky treat.
“Marshmallows don’t last long enough around either of us to swelter,” he replied, but he left me alone about them and turned his attention to the cupboards and unloading the contents of the box.
“They also glide onto the stick a lot easier when they are cold,” I said, grinning as I stuck the candy bars in there too. “With a lot less smooshing and sticking to the wood while you’re positioning it right. You’ll see.”
“Alright, we’ll table this debate until it’s time for s'mores.”
“Ohh, s'mores, I got here just in time.”
That voice.
If it weren’t for Roman removing it from my grasp, I’d have dropped the bottle of strawberry lemonade I was holding. Blinking, I shook my head, certain my mind had conjured up a ghost. Only it was no spectral being that came bouncing into the kitchen with spiky blond hair tipped with bright fuchsia.
It was Ezzy.
Chapter Six
Roman
The reunion was eight years in the making; only now that it was happening, I could only stand there and hope that it went well.
Ezzy’s eyes were wide. Axis’s eyes were wider, then he strode forward, closing the difference between them to stand right in front of Ezzy.
“I…” Axis stammered, shook his head, licked his lips, and sucked in a deep breath. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry. Fuck. I should never have left the way I did, especially not after what I said to you. That wasn’t fair. To either of you.”
He looked my way when he said that part, even though he’d apologized to me years before, in the first text he’d sent.
“If you were so sorry, why are you only saying it now?” Ezzy blurted, gaze darting from him to me and back again.
“Figured you wouldn’t want to hear it,” Axis admitted.
