The Player Hater (Accidentally in Love 1)

Still, Juliet hasn’t been a complete shrew like I’d feared would be the case the morning we met. Damn she was prickly that morning.

Then again—we were all standing over her as she slept; I wouldn’t want to wake up surrounded by my friends gawking over my lifeless body, either, as if I were in a casket.

So weird.

I make a mental note to ask her some questions tonight; I’m sure we’ll be next to each other again at tonight’s bonfire—tonight is the last hurrah on our quick getaway before we head out tomorrow.

In the past thirty-six something hours I’ve managed to:

Barely get any sleep

Worried about bear attacks

Walked too fast through the woods after dark to avoid said bears

Hardly gotten any exercise or exerted myself unless it was after dark

Worried about my sister and niece, as per usual

Worried about bear attacks

I cannot live on picnic food and pudgy pies alone, so thank goodness we’re heading home tomorrow. I leave at first light, one of the first to set off since my flight is in the morning. Not ideal but I have things to do and people to see and hate waiting around at the airport.

Ben wasn’t thrilled when he learned I would need my own ride; none of the other campers/guests require a shuttle that early in the day, so they have a bus coming for the entire group.

Back in the camper, I prepare for tomorrow morning by throwing most of my things in the duffle bag so I don’t have to do it when I wake up; it’ll probably still be dark out and Lord knows I won’t want to turn on any of the lights in the camper to avoid waking up Juliet. I’ve seen her in the morning and the last thing I want to do is wake the proverbial bear—not that she’s a monster in the morning, but there’s no sense in making any more commotion than necessary.

After I get everything sorted—there isn’t a whole lot considering I under packed—I make my way back down the path where everyone has gathered around, yet another campfire. It seems that this whole weekend consisted of nothing but, if you don’t count the one day we attempted to go fishing.

I reach for my ear and squeeze the lobe where I’d been hooked, the memory making me smile. The look on Juliet’s face when she’d realized her line was attached to my head was actually pretty priceless. The horrified expression will be burned into my brain forever and most likely hers, too.

Hilarious.

Not at the time, but…yeah.

Hilarious.

Juliet doesn’t show herself until we’re all seated around the campfire, though this time she makes it in time for dinner. They’re serving barbeque and chicken kabobs, pasta salads and brownies for dessert—all things I could eat and eat and eat and eat.

“You really love that outfit, don’t you?” I ask when she plops down beside me yielding a paper plate loaded down with food, wearing the same sweatshirt and jeans she’s had on the two previous days.

“This is the only thing I have that’s appropriate to wear.”

What on earth does that mean? “Do you have a suitcase full of scandalous clothing?”

Juliet picks the chicken kabob off her plate and nibbles on the grilled mushroom capping off the end. “No, Davis—it means I have a suitcase full of cute sundresses and bikinis.”

I haven’t made a plate for myself as my stomach is well aware, protesting with a loud grumble. Instead of standing and moving to the buffet, I give Juliet another once-over.

“Why would you bring sundresses and bikinis on a wilderness vacation?”

She halts chewing long enough to freeze me with a stare hard enough to emasculate most men. “Because Davis, I thought we were going somewhere warm and sunny and tropical.” She sighs, setting the chicken down in the center of her plate, licking her fingers. “Like the Caribbean.”

Um. “Why?”

She seems embarrassed, fidgeting in her collapsible chair. “I don’t know. I guess I assumed we were going on a beach vacation?”

“Ah. That makes sense.” Yeah, no to the beach vacation. “It’s not really Thad’s style and Mia had seen this place on the internet and fell in love.”

Juliet rolls her eyes heavenward. “Ha ha. She’s super outdoorsy.”

“Wait., is that sarcasm?”

“Oh, you’re picking up on that?” More sarcasm.

“Are you implying Mia isn’t outdoorsy?”

I glance over at Thad and his girlfriend, with her jet-black hair shining in the firelight, makeup done to perfection though we’re hardly in the environment for glam.

Is Mia not who she says she is? Could she be pretending?

She has never come off as a gold digger to me, but I’m probably not the best person to be judging; I’ve been fooled by way too many women.

I have zero spidey senses when it comes to people taking advantage of me.

I study Mia while Juliet picks at her food with her fingers rather than her fork.