I'm Not Your Enemy (Enemies 2)

As she took a breath, I put my hand on her arm, slowing her down.

“I get it,” I said. She didn’t need to explain further. I could see how this was taking its toll on her. She hated not having Teddy around every day. The last thing she needed was a conflict between her brother and best friend. “We’ll suck it up in front of Teddy. That’s a promise.”

Somehow.

A voice in the back of my head was ready to scream out in terror, but this was the deal. After dragging things out as slowly as possible, shit was suddenly gonna be in motion. I’d see him tomorrow. Fuck me. My mouth became dry just thinking about it.

“Thank you. That means…” Soph trailed off when a set of headlights flashed over the trees to the left of us, and we looked over toward the street. “I think that’s Dylan.”

I crammed the last of my hot dog into my mouth and washed it down with a big gulp of beer, then rose to my feet. “Do you mind getting my sneakers in the back of the truck? They should be right at the front.”

“Sure thing.” She threw up the hood on her jacket and jogged out into the rain. Thankfully, it was back to drizzling.

In the meantime, I did my best to towel off my feet.

When Soph returned, I was distracted by the RV that appeared behind her. Maybe a neighbor was turning around at the end of the street. Either way, it couldn’t be Dylan.

“False alarm,” I said, nodding behind her.

She glanced over her shoulder, only to flash me a grin. “No, that’s him.”

I felt my forehead wrinkle with confusion.

“Do you remember what he does for a living?” she asked, tossing me my shoes.

“Uh…” Vaguely. “Something with engineering.” Like me, Dylan was a college dropout. Three semesters for me, four for him. He’d studied technical engineering but walked away when his younger brother was diagnosed with cancer. The brother was fine today, but Dylan never went back to school. He’d found a job in town and worked his way up without a degree. I just didn’t recall the specifics.

“They design and manufacture luxury features for campers, RVs, and those cute tiny homes,” Soph reminded me.

“Ah. There’s nothing cute about those homes,” I felt the need to say.

“You’re wrong, but whatever.”

Easy for her to say; she was like five foot two. I used her head as an armrest just to prove my point, to which she batted it away and elbowed me in the ribs.

“Oof.” I winced and held my side.

We watched Dylan pull over to the side of the property, right in front of the trees, and it was a grand vehicle. Looked like a brand-new RV. Winnebago, to be accurate. Mercedes chassis—probably one of those Sprinters. They were popular for RVs and camper vans. I’d rather live in one of those than a tiny home, that was for sure.

“So what am I missin’ here?” I asked. “Are we camping together?”

Soph grinned.

Dylan opened the door and jumped out. “Beats the truck tent, doesn’t it? It’s yours for the next three weeks if you want.”

Hot dang, for real? After quickly putting on my shoes, I walked over to him and inspected the RV. “Man, this is too much. It looks new—and my work here will be dirty.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He waved that off. “I actually chose this one because it’s got vinyl flooring instead of carpet. Roomier shower too. It’s part of our retirement package—geared toward customers who want to travel comfortably as they get older.”

“That’s you, Blake!” Soph exclaimed.

I snorted in amusement.

“I cleared it with my boss and everything,” Dylan went on. “All we have to do is give it a field test, and then we can include my patio feature in the spring catalogue.”

“What feature?” Soph and I asked in unison, and she jogged over to us.

Dylan smiled and showed us. He dove into an explanation too, one that revealed the love he had for his job. Basically, they had several RVs and campers in a showroom down at Cedar Point—no idea where that was—and it was how they put their designs on display. So this RV, for instance, had a built-in patio and an awning. Dylan flipped open a small hatch near the door and pressed a button.

I wasn’t easily impressed, but Dylan got me there. I folded my arms over my chest and watched as an extension to the side of the RV unfolded before us. He spoke of experimenting with different supplies at work, constantly pushing light materials and durability closer to one another.

Four legs unfolded too, and the ends couldn’t drill into the mud. Dylan had taken the ground into consideration in his design. The feet flattened and widened with a layer of some metal board before the mechanical whirring came to a stop.