The group returned to the clubhouse, voices still echoing from the chaos in the woods. Everyone checked in on Celine, making sure she was okay. She forced a small smile, thanking them, but her hands still trembled. Nathan never left her side — not even for a second. He stood just behind her, close enough for her to lean into his warmth if she needed to, wishing he could just take her back to their cabin and hide her from everything.
But he couldn't.
Not here. Not with everyone watching.
And especially not with Dean glaring at them from across the room like he owned the air she breathed.
Dean kept glancing at them. Denise too, arms folded, eyes blazing with jealousy and insecurity ever since the scavenger hunt ended. Celine could feel Dean's stare like needles in her back. She wanted to be done with all of this — the looks, the assumptions, the tension — but she refused to surrender. She would not let Dean think he'd broken her again.
To lift the mood, the Brandts proposed truth or dare. Booze included.
If you refuse?
You drink.
The bottle spun. People laughed. Secrets spilled. But every time it landed on Celine, she refused the question and took the shot.
Another. Then another.
She wanted to erase the woods.
Erase Dean's hands.
Erase the confusion eating at her.
Her cheeks warmed, her vision blurred, her lips turned pink, and soon she was drunk — beautifully drunk — giggling and wobbling in her seat. Dean watched her like she was a puzzle he suddenly wanted to solve again, smiling at her like he already won.
Celine saw that smile too.
She smirked.
You cocky ass. You think you won? Not even close.
Then the bottle landed on Dean.
"Truth," he said confidently.
A question flew from someone in the group:
"Did you ever love Celine when you were still together?"
People gasped, laughed, groaned, giggled — "It's just a game!" someone shouted.
Dean didn't hesitate.
"Yes. And Celine knows it."
He looked right at her.
Self-satisfied.
Taunting.
Celine's head spun slightly. She smiled — slow, drunken, defiant.
Behind her, Nathan's jaw flexed. His fingers curled into a fist so tightly his knuckles paled. Every instinct in him screamed to shield her, to shut Dean up, to take her away.
Then, suddenly, she leaned back into him.
Her voice was soft.
Barely audible.
"Rocky road…"
Nathan froze.
Her code.
She said it again, a little breathier this time. "Rocky road."
His heart lurched. He slid an arm around her waist from behind, pulling her gently against him. When she cupped his cheek with her small hand, he breathed out slowly — like she'd just asked him to anchor her.
He kissed her hand, softly.
She whispered it again — rocky road — and he kissed her cheek.
Everyone turned pink. Even Sadie covered her face.
It was intimate.
Too intimate.
Real.
The bottle spun again — landing on Nathan.
He chose truth.
"Was it love at first sight?"
Celine playfully poked his chest. "Rocky rooooad…" she sang drunkenly.
Nathan smiled, but it wasn't teasing — it was the softest, warmest, most unguarded expression he'd ever shown.
"Yes," he said simply. "From the very first moment I saw her."
The room sucked in air.
Even Sadie choked.
Celine giggled, then melted into him.
Dean's smile vanished like a flame in the wind. He tried to hide how shaken he looked — but he couldn't. Not when Celine was draped on Nathan's lap, smiling, glowing, alive. Not when Nathan pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear like she belonged with him.
Dean suddenly suggested stopping the game.
Celine, drunk and fed up with everything, jeered, "No! Continue!"
The bottle spun a few more rounds — more laughs, more dares — then landed on Celine again.
She chose dare.
Someone yelled, "Kiss Nathan!"
The air froze.
Celine turned around slowly. Her eyes glazed with wine, but her expression soft and sure. She reached up — hands trembling just a little — cupped Nathan's face, tiptoed…
And kissed him.
A soft, lingering, searching kiss.
Nathan inhaled sharply, then his hands found her waist, and he kissed her back — deeper, firmer — like the world narrowed to the warmth of her mouth.
Guests blushed. Some squealed. Someone covered their spouse's eyes.
Dean couldn't take it.
He stood abruptly and walked away, Denise scrambling behind him.
The game ended quickly after that.
Sadie and Celine were both wasted — hugging each other, crying, laughing, stumbling over their own feet. Nathan and Toby followed behind, carrying bags, holding them steady.
"I am so proud of you, babe! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!" Sadie cried dramatically, squeezing Celine's face.
"I love you too, Sade! If you weren't here, I'd be lost!" Celine shouted back, crying and laughing all at once.
When they reached Sadie's cabin, it took the boys a full minute to separate them. Toby dragged Sadie inside as she wailed a dramatic goodbye.
Nathan turned to Celine — who immediately slumped into his chest.
"You're so good… you're such an angel," she whispered, her words slurring. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I dragged you into my mess. I'm sorry—"
"Celine," he murmured, "stop apologizing."
She clung to him as he carried her, her head resting on his shoulder. When he reached their cabin, he lay her down gently on the couch and stood to fetch water — but she grabbed his wrist with surprising strength.
"Don't leave," she whispered. Soft. Scared.
He froze.
He sat beside her.
She immediately curled into him, her cheek resting on his chest.
Nathan waited until her breathing steadied before asking quietly, "Celine… what happened in the woods?"
She trembled again.
Her fingers curled into his shirt.
"He… tried to intimidate me," she whispered.
"He said… he said all of this was for him. That he didn't believe anything. That I'm easy. That he can… see right through me."
She shut her eyes tightly and continued, voice cracking.
"Why does he think he can touch me? Talk to me like that? Act like I'm still his? Like he didn't throw me away in front of everyone…?"
Nathan's chest rose and fell with controlled anger. He stroked her hair comforting her.
"Celine," he said softly, "tell me where he touched you."
Her face went red with shame, tears pooling.
Nathan shifted, voice gentle.
"Okay… I'll touch you, and you say our code."
He lifted her hand — light, careful.
"Rocky road," she whispered, and he kissed her hand.
He touched her wrist.
"Rocky road," she said again, and he kissed it.
He touched her shoulder.
"Rocky road."
He kissed her shoulder softly.
Her neck.
"Rocky road."
He kissed her neck, tender and slow.
Her cheek.
"Rocky road…"
He kissed her cheek gently, wiping her tears with his thumb.
Then he hovered over her lips, close enough to feel her breath.
She shook her head gently.
"I stopped him. I did. I was strong…"
Nathan cupped her face, eyes full of something reverent.
And he kissed her.
Slow at first — tentative — then deeper as she clutched him back. Sweet, then fierce, raw, emotional. His hand slid behind her neck, hers tangled in his shirt, their breaths uneven as everything they'd held back finally spilled over.
Her tears mixed with their kiss.
Before it grew any heavier, her exhaustion hit — sudden and total. She went limp, passed out mid-kiss, her head falling into his chest.
Nathan pulled back, breath unsteady, staring at her sleeping face.
A quiet smile tugged at his lips.
He lifted her carefully, lowered himself onto the couch, and let her curl into him like she was made for that exact spot.
He wrapped his arms around her, holding her like she was fragile and treasured.
And as the fire crackled softly outside and the forest hummed, Nathan closed his eyes against her hair and whispered into the dark—
"I'm not letting you go. Not now. Not ever."