Our Camp Night Went Wrong Novel – “Are you fucking kidding me? I have to share a tent with him? God knows if he stays on his side of the tent.” The words ripped out of me, raw and furious. My mom shot an apologetic look at my stepdad before turning to me, her voice low and pleading. “Marcella, there’s no other choice. The other tent is ruined. It’s either Thayer or the wilderness.” She wasn’t wrong, but the knot in my stomach only tightened. “I’m serious. The guy’s built like a damn linebacker. If he starts snoring, I’m kicking him straight out of the tent. Headfirst.” Mom didn’t bother arguing. She just grabbed my bedding and shoved it into the cramped tent, dumping it right on top of Thayer’s grimy sleeping mat. I stared at the pathetic little space, holding my hands up to measure it.
Thayer was huge. Once he sprawled out, I’d be lucky to have a corner to curl up in. The injustice of it all burned in my chest. Then, an idea sparked. “Mom, wait!” I called out before she could escape. “I can sleep with you. Let your husband bunk with Thayer!” She shut it down instantly. “They won’t both fit, Marcella. Look, I know it’s not ideal, but it’s just for three days.” Three days? Three whole days sleeping next to that guy? The thought was so repulsive I couldn’t even process it. Just then, Thayer himself strode over, rubbing a hand over his smooth, shaved head. His eyes landed on me, and a slow, knowing smirk spread across his face.
I had to physically restrain myself from grabbing the nearest BBQ grill grate and engraving it permanently on his skull. It would only make things worse. Mom had only been married to this widower and his son for two months, and the last thing I wanted was to cause her more trouble. During the BBQ that night, that prick Thayer kept sliding a grilled sausage in and out of his mouth, his eyes locked on me the entire time. I knew he was doing it on purpose. It was a crude suggestion about my mom. It took every ounce of my self-control not to flip him the bird. We’d been like oil and water from day one, but the real kicker was that my mom genuinely thought this camping trip would magically weld our “blended family” together.
I wasn’t feeling the harmony. I was feeling pissed. The thought of eating and sleeping beside him for three days straight made my blood boil. Night fell. Mom and my stepdad disappeared into their tent early, leaving me alone with the sound of Thayer tearing into a steak. A series of wet, sloppy chomps echoed in the quiet clearing. His manners were so crude my stomach turned. I honestly couldn’t see what Mom saw in that man. He wasn’t rich. He wasn’t handsome. And aside from being built like a goddamn bull—just like his son—he had zero redeeming qualities. But my hands were tied.
My own deadbeat father had vanished the day I was born, leaving Mom to raise me alone. I’d do anything for her. I’d die for her. So I crawled into our shared tent, grumbling under my breath. I shoved myself into the farthest corner, wrapping my blanket around me like armor. Thayer’s frame was so massive that if he accidentally rolled over on me, I’d probably wake up in a hospital. The cramped space was already thick with his scent. A heavy, distinctly masculine musk that set every nerve in my body on edge.
I covered my nose, but against my will, I took a small, sharp inhale. Marcella, you’re losing it, I cursed myself. You can’t be this desperate. I was in my twenties and had never even had a boyfriend. It was pathetic. The first time I share an enclosed space with a man, and it’s my stepbrother. Hilarious. I made a mental note: find a boyfriend the second this trip is over. Just as the thought solidified, the tent flap was ripped open. Thayer’s massive frame blocked the campfire light, plunging the tent into darkness. The whole structure groaned as he forced his way inside. Six-foot-something and two hundred pounds of solid muscle. Why the hell wasn’t this guy playing in the NFL? I scrambled back, but he acted like I didn’t exist. He just yanked his own grimy blanket over himself and flopped down, his body consuming nearly every inch of floor space. I’d completely overestimated the tent’s size and underestimated his.
Even curled into a tight ball, my side was pressed firmly against his. “Oh. Forgot you were in here, Marcella. My bad.” There wasn’t a hint of an apology in his voice. If anything, he sounded… pleased. But to my surprise, he actually shifted, giving me a precious inch of space. For once, I didn’t snap back. That tiny bit of room meant I could finally stretch my legs. Silence fell, thick and heavy. The only sounds were the crackle of the fire outside and Thayer’s deep, steady breathing. My heart hammered against my ribs. I was nervous. This was the first time I’d ever slept this close to a guy my age. Sleep felt impossible. In the darkness, I glanced at him. His breathing was even, but I knew he wasn’t asleep.