Chapter 108 Campfire Confessions
Daniel: POV
I watched Alex's hands as he chopped the rehydrated bell peppers, his movements precise despite our makeshift desert kitchen.
The sunset painted his profile in amber and gold, highlighting the new definition in his once-soft jawline.
"You're doing it wrong," I said, reaching over to adjust his grip. "Chef's cut. Like this."
Our fingers brushed, and that familiar electric current shot up my arm. Alex rolled his eyes but adjusted his technique.
"Sorry, Mr. Michelin Star. Not all of us spent our formative years making soufflés."
"It was actually risotto," I corrected. "And you should be grateful. Everyone else has been eating dehydrated garbage for weeks."
This moment felt perfect. I wished time could freeze right here, with no complications, no rejections. Just Alex and me, comfortable and content.
But tomorrow we'd head back to San Francisco. Back to real life where Alex kept me at arm's length, every interaction shadowed by my confession and his panic.
"Earth to Daniel," Alex waved a pepper in front of my face. "Where'd you go?"
I blinked. "Just thinking about garnish options. Desert cuisine is challenging."
He laughed, the sound warming me more than the campfire. "I'm sure you'll manage something pretentious even out here."
When everything was ready, I arranged the pasta on our metal camping plates, garnishing with wild herbs I'd collected. The aroma drew everyone toward the fire.
"Holy shit," Brian exclaimed. "That actually looks like real food."
"It smells amazing," Megan agreed, settling beside Lily.
Jack whistled appreciatively. "Morgan, you've been holding out on us. You could've been cooking like this the whole time?"
I shrugged. "Had to save the good stuff for a special occasion."
As everyone dug in, their appreciative moans made my chest swell with pride. Cooking had always been my escape, my way of showing affection when words failed me.
"This is fucking incredible," Marcus mumbled through a mouthful.
Brian's phone buzzed. He frowned at the screen, then stood abruptly.
"Everything okay?" Jack asked.
Brian sighed. "My boss just texted. Emergency client meeting tomorrow morning that I absolutely can't miss. They've arranged a helicopter pickup for me tonight."
"Tonight?" Megan echoed. "But we're supposed to leave tomorrow."
"I know, I'm sorry," Brian said, looking genuinely disappointed. "Corporate life, right? The chopper's coming in about an hour."
"That sucks, man," Alex said, clapping Brian on the shoulder.
Brian glanced at me. "Daniel, is it cool if I clear out of the tent now?"
"Yeah, of course," I nodded, trying not to think about what this meant—that my tent would be empty later.
As Brian headed off to pack, Jack raised his wine cup. "To our last night in the desert. And to Daniel, for making sure we don't leave on an empty stomach."
Everyone raised their cups. Alex's shoulder brushed against mine, sending my pulse racing.
"To new friendships," Megan added. "And to surviving haboobs together!"
Someone started humming, and soon Kevin began singing "Good Riddance." The rest joined in, voices carrying across the empty desert.
Alex's voice rose above the others, clear and confident. I found myself singing along, caught in the emotional pull of the moment.
As the impromptu concert wound down, Jack suggested, "We should do this again. Maybe not two months in the desert, but something."
"Yosemite next spring?" Brian suggested, returning with his packed bag.
"I'm in," Lily said immediately.
"Count me in too," Alex added, and my heart leapt at the thought of another adventure with him.
When Brian's helicopter arrived, we gathered to say goodbye. The distant thumping of rotors grew louder until the aircraft appeared, its searchlight sweeping across the sand. We said our goodbyes quickly as Brian climbed aboard with a final wave.
Back at camp, I found myself watching Alex more as the night progressed. He was getting progressively drunker, his careful composure completely gone. His laugh had gotten louder and more uninhibited.
I tried not to stare too obviously. The last thing I wanted was to make him uncomfortable again, to see that look of panic like when I'd confessed my feelings back in San Francisco.
But as the wine worked its magic, Alex became more relaxed. When our eyes met across the fire, he didn't look away. He even smiled at me—a genuine, warm smile that made my breath catch.
The night grew later, and our group began to thin. Megan and Lily retired to their tent first, followed by Kevin and Marcus. Jack stayed by the fire, nursing his whiskey.
When Alex tried to stand and stumbled, I was at his side instantly.
"Whoa there," I said, steadying him with a hand on his waist. "Someone's had a bit too much wine."
"M'fine," he mumbled, but leaned heavily against me.
"I'll help him to his tent," I told Jack, who nodded with a knowing look.
Alex was warm against my side as I guided him away from the fire. His feet dragged slightly in the sand.
"My tent will be empty now that Brian's gone," I said, steering him toward it. "Let's get you horizontal before you fall over."
Inside, I helped Alex onto the sleeping pad, but as I tried to straighten up, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me down beside him. I landed awkwardly, my face inches from his.
"Daniel," he said, his eyes bright despite the alcohol. "Today... I was really happy. Were you happy?"
I held my breath, studying his face in the dim light. His features were relaxed, open in a way they hadn't been around me for months.
"Very happy," I replied softly, willing myself to stay calm, to remember that he was drunk.
I moved to get up, but his hand tightened around my wrist. "Don't go," he whispered.
Something in his voice made me freeze. Looking down at him—his face so close I could count his eyelashes, his lips slightly parted—I couldn't hold back anymore.
I leaned down and pressed my lips against his, expecting him to push me away. Instead, his hand came up to the back of my neck, pulling me closer, deepening the kiss.