"Fuck! I forgot my underwear back there!"
"Well, shit. I was hoping to steal those for myself as a souvenir."
Skye rolled her eyes. "If you had helped me pack up our shit instead of antagonizing the ranger, you might have them."
The trip to Upper Catawba Falls had gone far better than I could have ever hoped. Not only did the time alone allow us to hash out what was bothering her and causing all of the awkwardness between us, but the rest of the day was like something out of a dream.
It turned out that Skye was under the impression that I was dating someone and therefore cheated on them when we fooled around in the car. It was all a miscommunication, of course. I'm not a cheater; I had broken up with my girlfriend months ago. But my brother didn't know, and she had gotten her information from him. Well, technically from her brother, but he got it for my brother. You get the point.
After that revelation, the spark that we had felt both at our brothers' wedding, and then in the car, returned in a hurry. When we got to the falls and realized it was the most romantic place on Earth, that spark was fanned into a burning hot flame. That is, until a park ranger caught me with my face buried in between Skye's legs.
Skye took the whole thing in stride. She found it as funny as I did, and we spent most of the two-hour hike back laughing about it.
"Have you ever been caught?" I asked.
"No way! I'm typically WAY more careful than that. You won't find anyone that thinks I'm anything but a proper lady." She said, faking a British accent to hammer home the idea that she was a chaste and honorable woman. "How about your degenerate ass?"
I couldn't say the same. Last year, I had brought a girl I met at a bar downtown back to the newsroom, since it was closer than my apartment. I had her bent over the news editor desk and was fucking here from behind when the then-managing editor walked in to grab something he had forgotten when he left for the night.
"Oh my God! What did he say?!" Skye asked, when I told her the story.
"He laughed and said to be sure to leave what I was working on on his desk in the morning." Damon was always joking around like that. I was gonna miss him next year. Skye burst into laughter.
"You are managing editor next year, right?" She asked, still giggling.
"Yep yep."
"So does that mean there wouldn't be anyone to catch you next time?"
"I guess not. You volunteering?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
She didn't answer. But her Cheshire Cat grin gave me all of the information I needed. She changed the subject.
"Maybe we DON'T tell the adults about what happened shall we?" She said, gesturing ahead.
"Your secret is safe. My tongue and I won't be the reason you can't wear white at your wedding. I promise."
"We'll see if that is still the case after tonight."
My jaw dropped open, and I just stood there dumbfounded as she walked through the clearing and greeted our brothers.
β-
That night's bonfire was CONSIDERABLY more enjoyable than the one we had the first night. All four of us were in a great mood. We told the traditional scary stories that were more dumb than scary, and this time, when Colin broke out his guitar, Skye was more than happy to sing along. Her song of choice? The "campfire song" from SpongeBob. It's like this girl had a Ryan McCormick playbook and was running through it flawlessly. It wasn't fair.
The entire evening was good, old-fashion fun. Just like the old days when it was just George, Dad, and me.
OK, with one small change: Skye was doing her best to keep my mind in the gutter. Not that it needed any help with that. Maybe she knew it, maybe she didn't, but whenever she caught me looking at her, she would spread her legs wide and give me a little wink. And when we were leaning over the fire to cook the marshmallows for our s'mores, she intentionally got in front of me and wiggled her ass against my groin. Sweets were the last thing on my mind.
My mind kept going back to what she had said earlier. Remember the thing about tonight?
Was she playing with me? If she wasn't, how are we going to do anything if we were sleeping in separate tents? Tonight is our last night, and tomorrow, all four of us are going on a long hike together.
"Hey Col', why don't George and I switch tents tonight?" Skye offered. "You two should at least get ONE night together, and I don't mind babysitting this one for the rest of the night."
Can she read my thoughts? Skye, if you can hear this, say "Saskatchewan."
She didn't say it, but I was still convinced. Regardless, her suggestion worked. Colin seemed to take the gesture as a generous act of a loving sister and agreed, thanking her. Skye smiled at me and went to throw her bag and pillow into my tent.
The four of us stayed out by the campfire for probably another hour or so after that. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and we wanted to take one last look at all of the stars that were not even close to visible back home. We took turns making up fake constellations that were ridiculous. George drew out a dick with six stars that were right by the Big Dipper, and Skye drew out Mickey Mouse.
Of course, calling our fake ones "ridiculous" seems disingenuous. It's not like the real ones make more sense. It's a pet peeve of mine, if I'm being honest, and I began to rant.
"Not THIS again," George said rolling his eyes. "Every damn year."
"What?" Colin said, confused.
"This is where Ryan is going to go on and on about how the constellation Cassiopeia is 'literally just a fucking W.'"
"It is, though! It's total horseshit!" I said, indignantly. "It's just a fucking W, yet we are supposed to look at it and say 'oh yeah that is totally what a woman sitting down and holding a mirror looks like.'"
"God, that is SUCH a Libra thing to say." Skye shook her head.
Oh no. Please don't tell me that Skye believes in that shit.
Believing in Astrology is a total deal breaker for me.
Much to my chagrin, Skye began insisting that I just did not understand astrology and that she would send me a link to a horoscope website that would "absolutely change my life."
I KNEW there had to be something wrong with her.