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her face into a look of mock outrage. “Ye just said it so ye could see ma friends’ boobs, didn’t ye?”
    I stuck my tongue out at her, but the rest of our conversation was cut short as we were joined round the little stove. I handed out more tea and conversation turned toward planning our first walk of the week.

3—Chicken
     
    B Y THE third morning of waking up with Trystan’s face pressed into my neck and his legs entwined with mine, I was resigned to my fate. The hand that slipped passively across my torso was new, but really, sleeping Trystan was kind of sexy. And I didn’t particularly mind the opportunity to wake up to a bit of gratuitous perving each morning. I was an early riser, and it seemed like he was a heavy sleeper and he never did more than grumble when I rolled out from underneath him.
    It may have only been the start of day three, and I didn’t want to jinx anything, but so far I was enjoying the family holiday. It shouldn’t have been that surprising; the kind of stuff we were doing—hiking and mountain biking—was what I did in my spare time anyway. Which was part of the reason I’d always resented the Jackson brothers; they had made me dread and hate a holiday that I should have loved. It wasn’t that Trystan was suddenly being nice to me or anything. He still had a sharp tongue, but his comments were in jest and lacked the downright nastiness that I had learned to expect from him when we’d been younger.
    I laughed at him as he mumbled something incomprehensible in my ear in his sleep . I carefully untangled myself and got up.
    This morning I wasn’t the first up, and I gave my dad and Jerry an absent wave as I dressed and went over to join them by the stove. They were discussing today’s activities and they greeted me absently with a mug of tea and a bottle of suncream. So far I’d avoided burning by wearing long sleeves and full trousers, while everyone else wore as little as possible against the baking sun. Today was a biking day, and once I was suitably protected from the sun, I dropped into a squat next to the dads to add my opinion on the route they were planning.
    We ended up doing about thirty miles, and the back of my neck burnt despite the frequent reapplications of suncream. It was the two youngest Jacksons’ turn to cook, and despite their protestations, Jorja, Trystan, and I left them behind and hiked back up to the lake to wash up and cool off before dinner. We were flushed from the exercise, but it was a much more respectable temperature this time round and we lounged in the edge of the water. It was still warm and the sun was still up, but it was harmless even for me and it was a nice change to feel the sun on my skin.
    I splashed water on my flushed neck as I watched Jorja flirt shamelessly with Trystan. He certainly seemed to notice, and he was strutting around like a bloody cat preening under her unsubtle gazes.
    “So have you always been an early riser or have you just been sorting out your morning wood thanks to sleeping with such a hot guy,” Trystan said with a smug grin as he lay himself out in the edge of the water next to me.
    Jorja giggled as she settled on my other side.
    “What? It happens, babe. Nothing we can do about it,” Trystan said.
    Jorja sniggered again and splashed water in his general direction as she turned a wry look my way.
    “One, I’m not yer ‘babe’; two, that wasn’t what I was laughing at. You still haven’t told him?” she asked me.
    “Huh? Told me what?” Trystan cut in before I could answer.
    “Ide’s been leaving to be nice,” Jorja said with a smug grin.
    I rolled my eyes and lifted another cup of water to my neck. “Yer a clingy sleeper, Trys.”
    A look of realization slipped over Trystan’s face. “No shit? I know I am with girls… shit, sorry, Idrys.”
    He looked genuinely concerned, which surprised me.
    “No worries, I’ve been taking pictures of yer drooling face as blackmailing material.”
    “I