BEAUTIFUL LIAR

CHAPTER 9

Thomas froze. His eyes widened in pure shock.

Michelle quickly pulled away, flushed.

"S-sorry! I didn't want to strip!" she stammered before running back to her seat.

The crowd cheered.

Thomas sat there. Frozen. And me?

I felt like I couldn't breathe. What... was this feeling?

Everyone started to scatter, heading to their own tents. The five of us walked back in silence, the air thick with awkwardness.

Then, Galatier suddenly pulled me aside, whispering in my ear.

"Watch out for her. She's not as innocent as she looks."

"What?" I blinked, confused.

"Michelle... she's a quiet slut!" Galatier hissed under her breath. I glanced at Michelle, walking ahead with Thomas and Emma.

"No way. She just likes Thomas," I shrugged, trying to dismiss it. Galatier rolled her eyes dramatically.

"I'm telling you, she's trouble. Keep your distance," she warned before slipping between Thomas and Michelle without waiting for a reply.

I stood there for a second, feeling a weird knot in my stomach, like something was off. It was an uneasy feeling I couldn't shake. I stared at Michelle, and something inside me twisted, but I couldn't put it into words.

We finally reached the tent, and all I wanted was sleep. I was dead tired, like I'd been run over by a truck.

"I'm sleeping on the far end. I toss and turn," Galatier declared, not bothering to ask anyone's opinion. She grabbed a pillow and blanket, immediately claiming the far-right corner of the tent.

Then Thomas flopped down next to her, and Emma took the leftmost side. That left the middle... and the space next to Emma.

I hesitated. Where should I sleep? I stood there, feeling like an i***t. Then Michelle just grabbed her pillow and blanket and made her way to the middle, next to Thomas.

Everyone's eyes were glued to us, but no one said a word. Especially Galatier—her face went stone-cold the moment she saw Michelle settle next to Thomas. She opened her mouth like she was about to say something.

"I'm not sleeping next to you," Thomas' voice cut through, low and steady, but with an edge. Michelle's face dropped instantly, looking like she just got slapped. Galatier's lips curled into a smug little smile.

Michelle, clearly embarrassed, moved her stuff in silence and took a seat next to Emma.

"Vivian, get your ass down here," Thomas ordered, his voice sharp and no-nonsense.

"I... I can't... You know what I'm like. I can't sleep next to you. Switch with Galatier!" I fumbled, trying to avoid this awkwardness.

"Nope!!" Galatier shot back. "I'm tired. I'm sleeping here—goodnight!"

With no other choice, I lay down next to him, trying to keep as much space between us as possible. Ugh, Emma said this tent was huge. Where the hell is all the space?

I had to lie on my side, facing Michelle, with my back to Thomas. My heart was hammering so hard I thought it might explode. What the hell was I even doing?

I let my head sink into the pillow, feeling the warmth of his body behind me. The image of Michelle kissing him was still burned into my mind, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake it off. What the hell is wrong with me?

My eyelids felt as heavy as a thousand-ton rock, impossible to keep open. Within minutes of my head hitting the pillow, I was out—drifting into a deep slumber, lost in a dream.

When I woke up at dawn, everyone in the tent was gone... except for Thomas. And—what the hell? Why is it so heavy?

An arm——Thomas's damn arm!

I realized he was holding me tightly against him, his warm breath fanning the back of my neck.

His breathing was slow and steady—he was still asleep. Maybe he had turned over in his sleep and just grabbed me by accident, but I am not a freaking body pillow!

I tried to pry his arm off, but instead of letting go, he pulled me in even tighter. My back was now flush against his chest, wrapped in the iron cage of his embrace.

And that's when I felt it.

Something hard, Something big.

Pressing against my lower back.

The moment I realized what it was, my breath hitched. My heart pounded against my ribs like a war drum.

He wasn't asleep.

Slowly, deliberately, he moved his hips, rubbing that damn hardness against me.

"Th—Thomas... what the hell are you doing? Let me go!"

Instead of letting go, he tightened his grip, his voice low and husky against my ear.

"Mm... Vivian..." He moaned.

He f*****g moaned.

His hips pressed against me again—harder, more desperate. I could feel every twitch, every movement, every ounce of his need—

And then— I woke up.

I bolted upright, my body drenched in sweat, my breath ragged. My thighs clenched instinctively, a dull ache pulsing deep in my core. My heart was racing, and I could still feel the ghost of his touch on my skin.

What the f**k kind of dream was that?!

I barely had time to process it before reality hit me like a slap to the face—

Thomas's arm. Still wrapped around me.

Just like in the dream.

I screamed and shot up so fast that the entire tent jolted awake.

"What—what's going on?!" Emma blinked at me sleepily, still half out of it.

"Thomas! You—you were holding me in your sleep!"

Thomas groaned, rubbing his eyes, still sluggish from sleep. "Jesus, Vivian. The tent's small. It's not like I can control where my arms and legs go when I'm unconscious."

Galathea, clearly annoyed at being woken up, flopped back onto her sleeping bag with a grumble. Emma and Michelle checked their phones and realized it was already past seven, so they got up to go wash up.

I exhaled sharply, feeling a little ridiculous. "Ugh... sorry. Just... had a weird dream."

Thomas ran a hand through his messy hair, his lips curving into a small smirk. "Morning." He stretched, then got up and walked out of the tent.

Still shaken from that insane dream, I grabbed my stuff and headed to the showers. Stripping down, I frowned at something sticky on my pajama shorts.

Huh?

I touched it, then pulled my hand back, staring at the strange, white, cloudy stain.

...Did I sit on something weird by the campfire last night?

Shaking my head, I tossed the clothes into a bag and stepped under the spray of warm water. I let it wash over me, trying to erase the lingering heat on my skin.

But the dream...The feeling of his body against mine...It was so real.

So intense.

So—I swallowed hard.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I shut my eyes tightly, pressing my forehead against the cool tile.

Get out of my head, Thomas.