“Do you want some privacy so you can finish?”
I stomp up the hill. “No, I don’t want to finish. Jesus. You just caught me jacking off.”
“So what?” The sound of Jarrod’s footsteps trudge behind me. I briefly find humor in the fact that he’s following me for once. “Ian, I have three brothers and we shared one bathroom. When guys live together, walking in on each other just comes with the territory. It’s not a big deal. You should probably get used to it if you’re gonna live in a house full of dudes.”
I spin around to face him. “But I was sayingyourname.”
“I told you I’m an open-minded guy. If thinking about me is what you’ve gotta do to get your rocks off, more power to ya. You think I work to have a body like this and expect peoplenotto be fantasizing about me?”
I give him a once-over. He’s put his shorts back on, but he’s still shirtless. His confidence is infuriating. Even more maddening is how secure he is with his own sexuality. I shake my head. “I can’t spend the night out here with you. Not after what you saw. Let’s gather our stuff and hike back toward the main road. We can probably get a phone signal there.”
Jarrod grabs me by the shoulder. It’s the first time he’s ever touched me. His hand is warm, strong and powerful as it grips me. “No fucking way. I’m not blowing our shot at joining this fraternity just because you were blowing your shot over me. You’re gonna have to get over yourself. We’re staying the night and that’s final.”
With that, the jock unhands me and takes off toward our campsite.
King Jarrod has spoken. All hail the hot ruler.
My nuts ache with unreleased tension and my cheeks burn with misplaced anger. I feel embarrassed, ashamed, and yet I have no one to blame but myself. It’s going to be a long night, but it seems I have no choice. This is happening. I just hope I don’t drown in my own desire.
CHAPTER 4
I unpack two turkey and cheese sandwiches from our mini cooler and hand one to Jarrod as if it’s a peace offering. He unwraps the sandwich and sneers at it. “Does this have mayo on it?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Gross. I hate mayo.” He takes a bird-like bite off the crust and chews it suspiciously.
“Geez, sorry,” I say in a completely non-sorry tone. “You’re acting like I served you a plate full of hot turds.”
He unclenches his face and offers me a modest smile. “Sorry. That was rude of me. I guess I’m just hangry.”
I throw him over a bag of chips. “Do you like Doritos?”
“Oh, hell yeah.” He tears open the bag and starts crunching away at the reddish-orange triangles.
My phone chimes, reminding me to take our hourly selfie. I lean in and smile next to Jarrod, who grins with a mouth full of nacho cheesy crumbs while I snap the pic. When I tap the photo to review it, a billowy shadow in the background catches my eye. I swivel my head to see if it’s still there, but I can’t tell. My camera’s night vision is better than my own.
“Hey, Jarrod, check this out.” I zoom in to the shot and show him. “Do you see that?”
He squints at the image. “I dunno. Kinda.”
“Do you think it could be a ghost?”
He rolls his eyes. “Probably.”
“What?!”
“If ghosts exist here, they exist everywhere. Any time you’ve taken a photo in a park, or at the beach, or anywhere really, there were ghosts. Millions—no, billions—of people have died on this earth. There’s nothing special about this place. I thought we already covered this.”
His insistence on applying basic logic is maddening. “I guess you’re right.” I sigh and resume eating my mayo-licious sandwich.
Taking a softer tone, he adds, “This is a creepy place. I get it, bro. That’s why we have to spend the night here. But I promise, it’s going to be fine.”
“Did you ever seeThe Blair Witch Project?”
“Dumb.” He rolls his eyes and stuffs his perfect smirking lips with another handful of chips. “I wish there was a fire pit around here. It would be great to tell ghost stories around a crackling flame.”
“That sounds terrifying. And dangerous.”