Wild Like Us (Like Us 8)

Sulli is rigging a makeshift shower. A plastic sack, resembling an IV bag, is full of boiled water that’s been warming in the sun all day. She hooks the bag to a tree limb, but there’s only enough water for one warm shower.

Before the cougar attack, we talked about just washing off in the river. Now that’s not happening. I don’t trust how well we’ve bandaged our wounds, and wading in a river with open cuts is parasite-central.

So I grab a water bottle. “You take the shower, Sul.” Unscrewing the cap, I’m prepared to do a quick clean-off.

“No way.” She steals the bottle, then blocks Banks from grabbing one out of his backpack, a hand to his chest. “The temperature outside has dropped too much—you’ll both have popsicle dicks if you try to bathe with bottled water.”

My lips quirk into a smile.

Banks makes a noise that sounds like a deep laugh.

After this crazy night, I can’t believe we’re still able to find humor. I should probably go check my phone now that we’re back at camp with cell service. Running a security firm and a gym is a full-time gig, and the amount of missed calls, texts, and emails keep piling the longer I neglect them.

But nothing sounds better than being here. With her. With him. Painful parts of tonight will creep back when I leave.

So I stay.

Sulli looks between us. “Do you really want popsicle dicks?”

Banks cracks a smile, his eyes saying words he once told me: Hell have mercy on my soul.

Yeah, the dirty response is right there, and I just say it, “Depends on how much you like sucking popsicles, string bean.”

She slugs my arm.

Pain shoots through my elbow, and I wince for real.

“Oh fuck—I’m so, so sorry, Kits.” Her hands fly to her mouth, then hover over my elbow I’m favoring. “It was just instinct—like I was on automatic. I didn’t think. Fuck.” She groans at herself.

“It’s okay.” I fling a strand of her hair at her face.

Amid her dirt-splotched cheeks, she turns an embarrassed shade of red.

Banks checks my elbow bandages. “It’s not bleeding.”

I slip him a thanks through my eyes.

He nods.

“Maybe you should recheck?” Sulli asks Banks. “Give it a closer fucking look?”

He does, more for her peace of mind. “He’s good to go.”

“But where will I go?” I tease and throw off my baseball hat.

“To hell, probably,” Banks quips. “See ya there.”

We smile, and our eyes plant on Sulli as I say, “Are we going to drag her down with us?”

“Only if she wants to go.”

Sulli is still hyper-focused on my elbow. “How can you guys crack jokes right now?” She doesn’t give us time to respond. “Does your arm hurt more, Kits? Be honest with me.”

“Not much more than it did, and hey, you’re the one who threw out the first joke.”

Her face twists in confusion.

“Popsicle dicks,” I tell her.

“I was being serious.” She wipes a smudge of dirt off her cheek. “You can’t deny that your dicks won’t freeze if you take bottled water showers out here.”

Banks runs a hand across his jaw. “I didn’t deny a thing.”

She holds onto her arms and shivers. She’s cold. I’m about to go really serious and stop the chatter, but she continues fast, “There’s enough warm water if we all just take a shower together.”

Shower together?

I didn’t think we’d go in that direction. My lips flat-line, and I look over her shoulder to Banks again. His eyes are on me.

A thousand questions spinning between us. Can we all three take a shower together? Yesterday, I would’ve probably said no.

But I’m spent. Exhausted. Emotionally, mentally, physically. I want the warm shower. I want Sulli to feel solid. I want Banks to not think about his brother he lost.

I want to shed the night. I want it gone and soaked in the water that falls to the earth.

“As friends,” I say.

“As friends,” Sulli nods and looks to Banks.

“As friends,” he agrees.

I watch as Sulli pulls the Camp Calloway tee over her head. Banks steps out of his pants, and I make quick work shedding my clothes. Until I’m in boxer-briefs like Banks, and Sulli stands in panties and a sports bra. All of us bandaged up. She stares down at her chest for a second, thinking something, and then suddenly, she tugs up and shimmies off her sports bra.

Her nipples are hard in the cold. Shit, I love her tits. She turns quickly to the makeshift shower. The sack of water still hangs from the tree branch. All three of us are shivering and gather close underneath the plastic spigot. She stands between us, facing Banks.

My pulse races. Does she feel more comfortable with him seeing her tits than me? Maybe because he’s already seen her naked while they were kissing. Yeah, maybe?

I shrug the thought off as I reach up. Pulling the string that opens the sack, a stream of water pours down on us.