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Chapter 4
Zane
The rush of our impromptu race up the ropes course lingers in my veins like a drug, every nerve ending still thrumming. Watching Aspen fearlessly hurl herself into that climb, eyes blazing with the same reckless fire I'd fallen for all those years ago... it's intoxicating.
For those fleeting moments, she was my Aspen again—wild, uninhibited, alive with the thrill of adventure. No trace of the tightly wound corporate professional who'd arrived yesterday, only the fiery free spirit I've missed more than I ever let myself admit.
As we retrace our path back toward the central campgrounds, she practically vibrates beside me. Her cheeks are flushed, emerald eyes sparkling in a way that makes my chest constrict.
"That was..." She trails off, shaking her head as she struggles to find the words. "God, I haven't felt that alive in years."
"Told you this place would reawaken that spirit in you."
Aspen nods, her lips still curved in a giddy grin, and a flicker of hope ignites in my gut. Maybe I'm finally getting through to her.
We emerge into the central clearing, the dilapidated state of the cabins and outbuildings on full display. I tense, bracing for the disillusionment to set back in. For Aspen's excitement to wither in the face of the camp's crumbling reality.
Instead, her gaze rakes over the scene with an almost hungry intensity, her lips pursing as the gears visibly turn. Then she pivots toward me, a new light blazing behind those vivid eyes.
"Okay, so let's just say we did keep the camp. We'd obviously need to overhaul the cabins completely," she muses aloud. "Gut them, rebuild with more modern amenities and creature comforts, but keep that classic log cabin aesthetic on the outside. Give them a rustic-chic kind of vibe."
My brow furrows as I process her suggestions. Modernize the living quarters? Creature comforts? The very notion makes me bristle with unease. "Isn't part of the Camp Silverpine experience supposed to be about disconnecting?" I argue. "Roughing it a bit, living simply?"
Aspen scoffs, already shaking her head before I've even finished. "You can't honestly expect today's generation to totally disconnect from basic amenities like power, plumbing, and wi-fi."
"Why not?" I shoot back, unable to mask the edge of challenge in my tone. "We managed just fine with the bare essentials."
"That's because we were different!" she retorts, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "We were a couple of little outdoorsy weirdos. Most kids today wouldn't last a day without their creature comforts and digital addictions. We need to adapt if we want to make this place viable again."
I open my mouth to argue, but Aspen's already off again, pacing as her rapid-fire ideas spill out in a torrent. "And the dining facilities definitely need an upgrade, too. No more cold showers and slop on a tray. I'm thinking a modern lodge-style hall with gourmet meals, maybe even a cafe or taproom for the older campers and visitors..."
With each new suggestion, I can feel my hackles rising further, my jaw clenching as a familiar defensiveness settles over me. "You want to turn this place into a luxury glamping resort?"
She pauses, pinning me with an exasperated look. "It doesn't have to be luxurious, Zane. Just comfortable enough for people to actually want to experience it."
"By stripping away everything that makes it an authentic outdoor experience in the first place?" My tone drips with sarcastic disdain. I can't seem to bite it back, even if I wanted to.
"Oh my god, you're impossible!" Aspen throws her hands up, whirling to face me. "Why is it so hard for you to embrace any kind of change or progress? This place needs to modernize and evolve with the times if we're going to make it relevant again!"
I scoff, shaking my head as I fight the rising wave of outrage threatening to drown out all reason. "You call installing wi-fi and luxury cabins evolution? That's just more corporate bullshit, smothering the wildness out of everything until all that's left is some sanitized, pre-packaged facsimile of an experience. No different than those pathetic 'glamping' scams designed to let rich city folk pretend they're roughing it for a weekend before retreating to their climate-controlled cocoons."
"Wow." Aspen's eyes blaze with sudden fury, her cheeks flushing crimson. "Not everyone wants to run off to go full-on mountain man and live in a shack without so much as a word to anybody!"
I can feel my own anger swelling to match hers as the dam holding back our tangled history finally shatters. "At least I didn't abandon my entire identity for a bullshit corporate rat race!"
"You don't know a damn thing about my life!" she fires back, her lush lips twisting into a sneer. "Not after you just up and vanished on me without any explanation! I didn't have the luxury of retreating into the woods to lick my wounds like some overgrown child."
The words slice deep, each one a razor-edged reminder of the devastation I left in my wake all those years ago. But the sting only stokes the flames of my own fury.
My gaze rakes over Aspen, really drinking her in. The way her chest heaves with each indignant breath, the swell of her breasts straining against the thin cotton of her t-shirt. Those lush lips twisted in an expression of utter defiance, just begging to be claimed and quieted.
The reckless, insuppressible hunger that always simmered between us is a raging inferno now. I can practically smell her desire, taste it on my tongue. Rational thought fractures, obliterated by this all-consuming need coursing through me.
I surge forward, closing the distance between us in two strides. Aspen's eyes widen momentarily, anger giving way to shock. But she doesn't retreat, doesn't protest as I seize her by the arms and yank her against me. Our bodies collide with bruising force, the impact driving the air from her lungs in a guttural exhale.
Then my mouth crushes down on hers, swallowing her sharp gasp.
There's no finesse, no tenderness in that first soul-scorching kiss. It's all unleashed fury, years of bitter history and unspent lust finally combusting.
