Chapter 3
“You’re staring again.” From her seat on the bench beside me, Kinsley’s voice is quiet. I have a feeling she’s not even looking at me, as her eyes scan the beach from behind her sunglasses.
“You don’t know that,” I mutter, readjusting my grip around my knees as I stare at Kayde on the lifeguard stand. He’d informed all of us last night that Mr. Fink was quick to hire him for his lifeguard training and CPR certification. While all of us here are CPR certified, as we have to be, I don’t think any of us have a lot of lifeguarding experience outside of glaring at kids and crossing our fingers they don’t drown. “You’re not even looking at me.”
“I don’t need to be. I can feel that weird energy you have. Besides, if I don’t watch our cabins, they’ll drown. You aren’t watching them, after all.” There’s a teasing note in her voice, and I roll my eyes with the intent of them to stay stuck in my head, even though the effect is lost on her when she doesn’t look. “Thought you said he’s not your type. What was it you called him? A golden retriever? Lassie?”
“Both of those,” I agree flatly, though it’s impossible to take my eyes off of Kayde in his lifeguard chair. It’s not as tall as the ones I remember from the local pool where I’d gone as a kid, and Darcy Lewis doesn’t seem to mind that at all. In fact, it appears as if she’s trapping him. With her fingers clenched on the metal slats of the ladder where Kayde would need to go in order to get down from his perch.
Or rather, considering the way he’s sitting there, his throne. Kayde lounges like the lifeguard chair was made for him, and carted in just for his exclusive use. He nods along behind his big, reflective aviators as Darcy talks, mouth pulling in a wide grin that flashes white, pearly teeth. I can’t help the soft sigh that leaves my nose, though I do glance back at the kids from our combined cabins splashing in the water.
“If you kill her, Melody, then you won’t get to sing in the talent show next week,” I call lazily, as one of my favorite problems shoves another girl’s head under the water. She makes a face at me but lets her up, earning a sarcastic thumbs up from me.
A loud, braying laugh comes from the lifeguard chair, and my head whips around so I can stare at Darcy. She’s trying a little too hard and giggling a little too loudly for any of us to believe she really finds whatever Kayde has said funny.
“I hate it here,” I mumble under my breath, and Kins snorts.
“Never thought I’d see you jealous of a man Darcy’s trying to hook her claws into.” Kinsley sips at her water, and gives a quick whistle to attract the attention of one of her own campers that’s probably gearing up for a murder spree. “How sad.”
“Whoa, whoa!” I whirl around on her, dropping my legs to the ground under the bench. “Aren’t you the one who started up with this summer love shit?”
She nods, sipping more water, and acts just as unfazed as if I’d told her the weather forecast for the week. Which, unexpectedly, includes a nasty storm in a couple of days that I’m sure is going to bring out the worst in these kids. At least for the next morning, since I’m sure most of them will be too afraid of the storm to do much in the dark. “Yeah,” Kinsley agrees, still casual. “Summer love for me to make Liza fall in love with me. You’re the one who said you didn’t want a conquest. You’re the one who likes to remind me how not-your-type Kayde is.” She leans over enough that when she nods her chin, I can see her eyes over her sunglasses. “You want to tell me that there’s been a change in the lineup? A new development?”
Instead of answering right away, I turn to look at the lifeguard throne again. Darcy is still there, though her smile has wilted somewhat. Is she not getting the progress she’d expected? Maybe Kayde doesn’t love the way she’s stretched out her camp counselor t-shirt to show off as much of her chest as she can, though who am I to say? My eyes flick up to Kayde, and while I can’t see what he’s looking at, I can see the direction his face is tilted in.
It’s as if he’s looking at me. Or trying to listen to what Kinsley and I are saying, though I know for a fact there’s no way he can hear us. My lips twitch as I look away, shaking my head. “No changes. He’s gorgeous.” Anyone with even a little bit of eyesight can see that much. Today his golden-brown hair is up in a bun, though loose strands frame his high cheekboned face like an aura that calls for a chorus of angels.
It’s a shame I can’t blame my attraction to his features on marijuana today.
“He’s still gorgeous. But he’s just so…nice.” My nose wrinkles like I’m using the word as an insult. And maybe right now I am. “I can’t do nice. What if I said something stupid, and he cried or got really hurt by it?” I’m great at saying stupid shit. But Kinsley is great at ignoring it, or laughing it off like it doesn’t matter.
“Poor thing.” Kinsley leans back on the bench. “Well, in better news, Liza and I are going on a camp date. Which isn’t a real date, obviously.”
“Much like summer love isn’t necessarily real love?” I point out, trying to be a little less than helpful. It works enough that Kinsley tips her sunglasses down to glare at me balefully.
“Sorry he’s not your type, but I can assure you that over this session and the next one, I’m going to convince Liza to be my girlfriend.”
“I look forward to cheering you on.”
“And I look forward to these little chats, and getting to see you wince over Darcy’s interest in the guy who you definitely, really, aren’t interested in.” Her scathing grin brings a smile to my lips. Kinsley may be mean enough for the both of us when she wants to be, but I love everything about her and every second of our conversations.
“Mm-hmm.” Her gaze goes over my shoulder, and she flashes a smile at Darcy when the counselor strolls past us with irritation on her face. “Oh hey, look. The line’s empty.” She gestures at Kayde, and I glance over at the lifeguard chair in confusion, only to see that this time, he’s definitely looking at us.
Or at Darcy’s retreating figure.
“The line?” I repeat, brows jerking up in disbelief. “There’s not a?—”
“Yeah, there so has been. So come on, Summer. This is your chance to go shoot your shot. Maybe Lassie isn’t as kid friendly as he appears.” She wiggles her brows suggestively, and I wonder if she even knows what she’s implying.
I certainly don’t. But I snort anyway, and drape my arms back over the bench to turn and look at the campers we’re supposed to be keeping from drowning. “I spent enough time with him yesterday. Pretty sure I know exactly how nice he is, okay Kinsley?” But even through my words, I know for a fact I’ll still be staring at him any time he might not notice. Not just because he’s easily the most gorgeous man who’s ever landed in my eyesight.
But because I’m nosy as hell, and I want to see that at-odds expression on his face from yesterday, just one more time, to see if I can figure out what makes him do that.
My teeth rake along my bottom lip as I stare out over Otter Hall, where all the kids are gathered to finish dinner. After this is campfire time, then bed, and I’m more than a little excited to go to my room and pass out. My hair is damp from the shower I’d taken after my dunk in the pool with my cabin, and I’m happy that I no longer smell like strong chlorine as I had all afternoon.
Part of me is disappointed that this is the second to last summer camp session of the year. I don’t hate my summer job. Far from it, actually. The kids can be a problem when they think they can get away with it, but the counselors are mostly my friends, and I love the outdoors.
Being here is the most time I get to spend outside, and the closest I normally get to actually camping. Mom has never been a big fan of it, and she certainly wasn’t the type to send me off to summer camp as a kid.
But saying I’m living out my childhood camping dreams at twenty-three sounds weird at best. At worst, I should book with extra therapy sessions when I’m done with camp this year.
“I’ll take this if you take them?” I snag Kinsley’s plate from in front of her, and for good measure, Liza’s, too. The three of us have eaten together all summer, and it’s another reason that Kinsley’s love for our camp nurse hasn’t faded in the slightest. She loves Liza’s dinner conversation.
“We’ll take them,” Liza agrees brightly, smiling up at me. She’s always seemed to actually enjoy being here, and she wants kids. It’s confusing to me, but I’m not here to judge my best friend’s summer love target. “Thanks, Summer.”
Kinsley smiles up at me with her own silent gratitude. “We won’t let Melody kill anyone,” she promises.
“Blessings on your hearth.” My words are solemn as I balance the plates in one hand and snag our empty plastic glasses with the other. Liza starts to protest, but I’m far enough away from the table that I pretend not to hear it. This might have been a bit too much of an armful since I can’t stack the plates well due to their contents. But I’d rather have a few quiet moments to myself washing dishes before I go out to a bunch of kids trying to sword fight with marshmallow-laden sticks.
Though the image of the kids doing just that a few weeks ago brings a grin to my lips, and I push my shoulder into the kitchen door easily, cautiously, just in case there’s someone on the other side.
There isn’t. I open the doors to an empty kitchen, and within a few minutes, the dishes have been scraped clean into the trash before being dumped in the sink. Once there, I turn on the hot water, not minding the liquid scalding my hands as I lather up the plates. I love a searing shower, and this is just a miniature version of that in my mind.
Once the dishes are clean, I head for the door again, and I’m surprised when it opens before I can do that for myself. Thankfully, a jumped step backward saves me from a door to the face, though I’m quick to rush forward automatically when Kayde comes in balancing five dishes and a half dozen cups on his own.
“You’re supposed to make them do this for themselves,” I sigh, grabbing the cups from him so he can focus on the plates. Deftly, I pour the remaining liquid into the sink before dumping them in as well. Kayde only chuckles, the sound like honey and sweetness, as he readjusts his grip on the overburdened dishes.
“They just looked so sad when they were faced with dishes,” he tells me, moving to lay the plates down on the counter beside the industrial sink. When I go to grab one, he shakes his head. “It’s fine. I offered to do it, so I’ll clean up the mess, Summer.” He says my name blandly, and something in me deflates just a little.
But what am I expecting, exactly? For him to whisper my name like it’s something special?
“It’s okay,” I tell him, shaking my head. “I don’t mind helping—” His fingers wrap around my wrist when my hand goes for the plates again, and this time I pause to turn my head enough to look at his face.
There it is again.
It’s like his face can’t quite decide what it wants to do. Or like he’s sending his features mixed emotional messages. The smile that curls on his lips is kind and easy. Though the way his eyes are just slightly narrowed under his long, enviable lashes shows me a different story. There’s something there that forbids disagreement; something that tells me to listen to him instead of doing whatever I want.
“Seriously.” His tone is soft, the warmth seeming unsure there. “I can do it.”
I wonder if he just doesn’t like me very much, and it’s hard for him to pretend otherwise. That thought sobers me up, and I try to extract my hand from his fingers with a shake of my head. “Seriously,” I parrot back at him, making a face. “The faster this is done, the faster you can go make sure Coyote Cabin doesn’t set the record for camp incidents again this month.”
He finally relinquishes his hold on my wrist and moves to clean up as much as he can while I dump half-eaten food into the large trash bin. “Again?” he repeats at last. “I thought you told me my campers were nothing to worry about.”
All I can do is side eye him at that, though I’m sure the small, guilty smile on my lips tells him all he needs to know. “Oops?” I offer at last. “Maybe I feel bad about it and this is me making it up to you.”
“I don’t think you feel bad about it at all, actually.” I swear he’s closer than he had been, and his shoulder rubs lightly against mine; warm under his t-shirt. “Sort of feels like you wanted me to get eaten, actually.”
“I would never.” But my lips twitch in a smile, and I hand him the last couple of scraped-clean plates. “Glad to see they haven’t killed you yet, though. Darcy would be heartbroken.”
Why did I say that?I regret the words the moment they’re out, but I just smile and try to keep the same expression on my face as I pull away from the sink. “Anyway.” God, now I feel awkward. “See you at the fire. Prepare to break up marshmallow sword fights all night.”
He doesn’t say anything. Not at first, while I’m lingering to give him a chance to respond. It isn’t until I’ve almost gone past him that he turns, surprisingly fast, to grab my elbow in his long-fingered grip that’s wet from the sink water.
“Tonight is your night to ‘patrol the camp’ or whatever, right?” he asks, but I shake my head at the question.
“No. It’s Darcy’s night, actually. I’m tomorrow.” There’s satisfaction in his eyes, though it fades quickly. “You want to trade? She’d probably trade you, if you want a different night. It’s not like the order really matters.”
He shakes his head, his fingers still tight on my arm enough that I glance down at his hand in surprise. Kayde’s wrist and hand are just as tan as the rest of him. As if he spends most of his summer nude, sunbathing on a California beach. It makes me wonder if there are any tan lines on him at all, or if?—
No, that’s definitely not a summer camp appropriate thought, and I shut it down before it gets away from me.
“I just wanted to know, is all,” he tells me, cracking a small, genuine smirk of his own. “Anyway.” His grip releases, hand falling to his side. “I’m almost done, so I’ll be out in a few minutes. If you see any of my kids actively killing someone, can you at least dangle something shiny in front of them until I get there?”
“No promises.” I push the door open with one shoulder, then pause.
Why do you care about nighttime walk arounds if you don’t want to swap? The question is thick and heady on my tongue, but I manage to swallow it back, though I’m still standing in place as he dries the dishes.
It takes him a second to notice, and when Kayde looks at me again, his brows raise by increments, I only shake my head. “Nothing,” I say, in answer to his unspoken question. “I”m just overthinking stupid shit. See you in a few.”
“See you,” he agrees, and I see him turn back to the sink before I let the door close behind me, already aiming for the quickest way out of Otter Hall and to the large, blazing campfire outside.