Page 68 of After We Fall (After We Fall 2)
“Like…camping where you sleep outside on the ground in the woods?” she asked, like she might not entirely understand the concept.
“Yes. Scared?” I reached over and poked her in the side.
“Yes! There are creepy-crawly things on the ground! And there are no bathrooms! Or room service! Or plush hotel bedding!”
I laughed. “Nope.”
“And there are animals in the woods.” She whispered it, like she didn’t want to alert them she was coming.
“Sweetheart, the only animal in the woods you’ll have to worry about is me.” I glanced over at her. Her eyes were wide, her expression half-pleased, half-terrified.
“Couldn’t we just go to a nice, quaint little B & B around here?”
“What fun is that?” I turned into Pete and Georgia’s driveway. “No, I want to take you camping for real for one night. You can manage one night without luxury, can’t you?” I put the truck in park and looked at her.
“One night?” she asked shakily.
“One night.”
She thought for a second, then sat up straighter. “OK. Yes. I can handle camping for one night. And you,” she went on imperiously, “can handle a black tie Great Gatsby-themed fundraiser for the Historical Society.”
“Black tie?” I pretended to think. “I don’t think I own one of those.”
“Black tie means you wear a tuxedo.”
“Well, I sure as fuck don
’t own one of those.”
She patted my arm. “I’ll take care of everything.”
“No way. I’m not going to any fundraiser.”
“Scared I’ll throw a scone at you?” Cocking her wrist back, she pretended to take aim.
I laughed and opened the driver’s side door. “Actually, I’d like to see you do that.”
She jumped out and met me around the back of the truck, and we began to unload it. “Come on, please? It will be fun.”
“You don’t really think that.”
Her turn to laugh. “Not really. But I don’t think camping will be fun, either.” We started to walk through the dark toward the shed, arms loaded with empty crates and boxes. “Actually, you know what? I think we would have fun at the fundraiser.”
“Oh yeah, why’s that?”
“I think we would have fun anywhere.”
I smiled, wondering who’d feel more out of place—Margot in a sleeping bag or me in a tux? It was a close call, but I think I’d win. Plus, I was only comfortable spending this time with her because whatever was between us would end when she left. I didn’t want to make any promises that extended beyond that day. “I’m sorry, Margot. But no.”
She sighed. “You’re so unfair. I have to leave my comfort zone for you, but you won’t leave yours for me?”
“You’re going to leave your comfort zone for you. I’m going to teach you valuable survival skills. Like how to light a match.”
“And when is this happening?”
“Let’s see. Today’s Wednesday, tomorrow night I’m watching Cooper, so how about Friday night?”
“Deal. Do I need a certain kind of clothes for camping?”
