“Shush!” Dawn’s blue eyes widen as she shoots a glance toward Shelley’s tent. “They’re in there together, you know. I heard them making out last night.”
Piper winces. “Do you think she heard me?” she whispers. “I didn’t mean to be hateful, I’m just jealous that everyone is getting kisses except me.”
“I didn’t get any kisses.” Dawn twines a lock of her silky black hair around her finger, making me jealous that she has hair that behaves so nicely when exposed to the elements. “I spent the whole night talking with Helen like we were at a damn PTA meeting. I think I’ve forgotten how to meet men.”
“You haven’t forgotten,” I say. “There just aren’t that many guys here. There are at least five more girls than boys, did you notice?”
“I did.” Piper’s brows draw together. “And I think the company’s guilty of false advertising. Weren’t there supposed to be an equal number of men and women? That’s what it said on the brochure, right?”
“Totally.” I nod, affecting more outrage than I actually feel, sensing an opportunity to shift Piper’s focus. “I think we should write a letter to leave in the feedback box.”
“Or head over to the host tent and lodge an official complaint,” Piper says, obviously warming to the idea. “I may even ask for a partial refund. Not only are there an uneven number of men and women, but the hosts are completely wimping out on the no social media rule. Those two guys at our table were on their phones every other bite of hot dog. I thought cell phones were only supposed to be used for emergencies or taking pics.”
“They are,” Dawn confirms. “Guess those guys didn’t get the memo.”
I sip my coffee and sigh with pleasure. Extra creamy, just the way I like it. I snuggle deeper into my chair, smugly congratulating myself on dodging the tell-all bullet.
But I should have known better—Piper’s easily riled up, but she isn’t so easily distracted.
“But official complaints can wait,” she says, turning her sharp gaze my way. “Wait for however long it’s going to take you to quit messing around and spill the details.”
I gulp more coffee and take my time swallowing, knowing I’m trapped, but still hoping for a miracle—for a tree to fall on my tent or someone’s shoe to catch fire or one of Piper’s children to call with a non-life-threatening emergency.
I don’t really expect the miracle to be delivered, however.
I still believe there’s more good in the world than evil, but I lost faith in miracles the day Serge dropped his bombshell and left our home with his lover, leaving me alone to cry in a puddle of shirts that still smelled of his cologne.
To say that I’m surprised when Jamison jogs up the gravel path that meanders through the campground with his hair standing up on one side, wearing nothing but a wrinkled white undershirt, a pair of cargo shorts slung low on his narrow hips, and a concerned expression, is an understatement.
I’m dumbfounded.
So shocked I don’t think to bring my hand to my face to wipe away the mascara gunk until he’s standing on the other side of the fire, staring down at me with an angry-concerned expression.
Chapter Five
Maddie
As soon as our eyes meet, a jolt of electricity leaps between us and all the memories of last night come rushing back, making my cheeks heat and my body ache in places that feel more pleasantly well-used than they have in years.
Until this moment, a part of me was convinced last night was a dream, but now there’s no denying it actually happened.
I really had wild and crazy sex with Jamison.
And now I have to deal with the aftermath of my whiskey-fueled antics.
“Can we talk?” he asks, a muscle leaping in his tight jaw.
“Um, yeah, sure.” I bolt up from my chair, nearly spilling coffee all over myself in my haste to set it on the folding table and get out of my friends’ earshot before Jamison confesses that last night was a mistake he won’t be repeating.
It’s going to be hard enough to hear it, let alone have witnesses to my shame.
Piper and Dawn exchange loaded looks, but I don’t make eye contact as I hurry past them onto the path.
I lead Jamison farther from our site, past the bathrooms and on toward the park exit, wiping the black from beneath my eyes as I walk, doing my best to ignore my shaking hands and the strangled feeling clutching at my throat. I have no one to blame for this disaster but myself.
Yes, I was drunk last night, but not that drunk. I knew what I was doing when I stripped naked and ran into the ocean. I deliberately seduced one of my best friends and now I deserve whatever misery comes next.