Elle and Troy Saladino had had a tumultuous friendship filled with sexual tension that reached an all-time high on a camping trip during the fall of their sophomore year in college.
Elle sat at a picnic table with her friend, Staci, watching the six guys construct the various tents. Troy’s muscles flexed beneath his polo shirt while he attempted to snap two of the metal pieces together. As it was her tent, Elle rolled her eyes, knowing Troy was doing it completely wrong.
“Um, Troy, I think you—” she began, her tone snide. She always enjoyed giving him a hard time.
“Keep it to yourself, Rigby. It’s under control,” he answered, not even giving her a second glance. When she and Troy became friends, they realized they had both been raised on the Beatles. Each Sunday morning, their families listened to 105.9 WCKG’s Breakfast with the Beatles. Elle’s father would make pancakes and bacon and the radio would stay on the entire program. Troy’s parents had done the same. When she revealed she was named after the song “Eleanor Rigby,” Troy’s nickname for her was born. Secretly, she loved it and hoped he’d never call her by her actual name.
“I’m serious, you may want to look at the instructions.”
Troy grabbed a sleeping bag and tossed it her way. “If I wanted your opinion—”
“You’d give it to me,” Elle interrupted, finishing his statement with a quick roll of her eyes. “Whatever.”
“Ugh,” Staci lamented, throwing her hair behind her shoulder. “Why don’t you two just do it already?”
Elle’s heart rate sped out of control. She swatted Staci across the arm and avoided eye contact with Troy, but she felt his soulful brown eyes on her. They’d never discussed the sexual tension looming between them. They’d never dissected their banter to find its source. In fact, despite their constant flirtation, Elle had no idea if Troy thought about her in that way. Did he fantasize about her the way she did about him?
He was recently single. He’d broken up with Amanda Bauer—again—a girl who lived in Eleanor’s dorm, just two weeks prior. Aside from her obvious good looks, long blonde hair, beaming green eyes, and alabaster skin, Amanda was the most boring human being Elle had met in her nineteen years. She was one of those girls who waited to hear your preferences before answering a question.
For example, Elle had joined Troy and Amanda for a quick lunch between classes.
“So, Amanda, what’s your favorite show?” Elle was always interested in television series.
The blonde took a deep breath, her eyes pained. She looked physically stressed and Elle couldn’t understand what could be so perplexing about such a question. All she wanted to do was know this girl a little bit better, to understand what Troy found so appealing.
“Um, I don’t really watch that much television. How about you?” Her eyes perked up, looking relieved to have placed the “pressure” on Elle’s shoulders.
“Dawson’s Creek. I’m addicted.” Elle scooped a large bite of salad into her mouth.
Amanda’s face brightened. “Yes! Dawson! He’s so hot.”
“Actually, I prefer Pacey.”
“Oh, well, yeah. He’s totally hot, too.”
Interesting, Elle had thought. Conversations like this one had taken place frequently during Troy’s agonizing four months linked to Amanda. Elle felt he deserved better—someone with more than just a pretty face and flawless complexion. He needed someone who challenged him, someone who made him think. Someone who corrected him when he was putting a tent together improperly . . .
A minute passed after Staci’s remark and finally Troy returned to the tent. Elle busied herself by organizing the drinks in the cooler. With each can she moved, she knew his eyes were still on her, daring her to look in his direction. But she couldn’t. If she did look his way, he’d know the truth. He’d know how she felt about him—he’d know she’d fantasized about the two of them together, that she wanted to know how his lips felt against hers.
Troy cleared his throat. “Hey, Rigby, will you give me a hand?”
Elle froze, dropped a can of cola into the cooler, shut the top, and walked to Troy, coaching herself mentally.
Be strong. Show no fear.
“I thought you’d never ask.” She nudged him in the ribs, and his lips perked up into a half smile. “My poor tent, I’m surprised it’s not in shambles by now.”
Elle shook her head as she picked up pieces of the tent, trying to mask the smile creeping up on her face. She loved giving Troy a hard time but had trouble developing a poker face when around him. He always saw right through any facade she attempted to create.
Troy shook his head slowly. His top teeth dug into his bottom lip. Elle loved when he did that. On Troy, sarcasm was sexy.
“Such a smart ass.” He grabbed the tent back from her. “Forget I asked.”
From anyone else, this attitude would have been a major turnoff, but with Troy it was an odd form of foreplay. They fed off of one another’s snark. No, this wasn’t a turnoff; it was an invitation.
Together, they built the tent successfully while continuously ribbing one another. When it was complete, however, he wrapped an arm around her, his hand hanging down from her shoulder.
“We did good.”
Elle turned to look him in the eye. “Yeah, I suppose we did.”
“We’re a good team, Rigby.”
This time, when Troy looked at her, his snark was long gone. He swallowed hard while his eyes peered into hers. Part of her wanted to break the eye contact, but she couldn’t—it was too powerful. Her hair was up in a ponytail, but during construction of the tent, a few large strands had fallen. They sat in front of her eyes. Troy turned his body, removing his arm from her shoulder, and pushed her hair from her eyes. He pressed the strands behind her ear.
“There,” he said, his words soft. “That’s better.”
The sun had set and the small group of campers gathered around the fire. Their bellies were full with hot dogs and marshmallows cooked by the fire. Beer was passed around and dirty jokes were spewing from the guys’ mouths.
Elle and Troy sat together, nestled under a blanket. Troy cracked jokes with the guys, but she noticed how attentive he was. During dinner, he served her first before eating. When she cracked up at the jokes, he fixed the blanket to make sure she was covered and comfortable. Yes, they were little things. But to Elle, the little things were enormous. Troy had always been a thoughtful friend, but this felt like more, like something was building between them.
“Hey,” he whispered into her ear. “Wanna go for a walk?”
“Sure.”
Troy grabbed two flashlights, and they walked down the path. The campground they were staying in was patrolled and monitored at night, so Elle felt safe walking around the grounds with him.
“I used to go camping all the time as a kid. Did I tell you that?”
“No,” Elle replied. She liked that Troy was revealing more of himself to her. She wanted to know everything about him.
“My dad was an Eagle Scout and thought it was important, I guess. I learned all those knots, how to make a fire—”
“Obviously, he skipped tent-building.”
Troy shook his head. “Can’t let one by, huh?”
“Not with you.”
Troy stopped and he crossed his arms in front of his broad chest. “Why is that?”