Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
VICTORIA
R oxy grins at me. “I gotta say, the wilderness looks good on you.” Her style is chic meets quirky—today, it’s a short knit skirt with harness boots and a navy blouse dotted with tiny pink elephants. Her red hair is pulled back into an updo that’s held in place with a couple of copper hairpins that she bought at a craft fair we visited last summer.
I pull a leaf from my hair and snort. “It took a little getting used to.”
“Never took you for the outdoorsy type,” she says. “But I stand corrected.”
A few weeks ago, I would have argued that I was better suited for one of her indoor positions. Now I’m not so sure.
I’m not certain about a lot of things anymore. And maybe that’s just fine. Maybe I don’t have to have everything figured out all the time, despite what that negative voice in my head tells me. Maybe it’s time I let go of my lofty expectations and give myself some grace.
We’re sitting on the patio by the cafeteria, where the kids are finishing lunch. So far I’ve managed to avoid Noah since after breakfast, when Roxy arrived with her assistant Julie and the donor, Mira. Soon they’ll tour the facilities and see how the fancy telescopes work, but right now they’re inside chatting with some students.
“Mira seems cool,” I say. She’s got a smile that makes you feel right at home and shakes hands like she’s meeting her new best friend. Her mostly gray hair is cut into a sleek bob and she has little creases at her eyes that come from years of laugher. Plus, she paired a button-up blouse and tailored pants with bright magenta sneakers—and that made me like her instantly.
“She’s great,” Roxy says. “She’s a retired surgeon and has a soft spot for space camps because her late husband worked for NASA. She’s a major donor for the university—has a dorm named after her.” She sips her coffee and waves toward Julie and Mira. “She’s taken an interest in us, and her donation could fund our camps for a decade—and allow for expansion to some other remote sites and hiring more staff.”
“Wow,” I breathe. “Now I regret telling her that goofy joke earlier. She’s even more VIP than I suspected.”
“Are you kidding?” Roxy says. “She loves a good space pun. She told me you were a delight.”
Inside, Noah and Sophie are doing their post-lunch announcements, the signal for all campers to head for their classrooms.
“Time for the grand tour,” Roxy says, checking the time. “I’ll catch up with you in a little while.”
“Great,” I tell her. “Have fun.”
“This is one of my favorite parts of the job,” she says. “I love showing people how awesome our staff is and letting them meet happy students. And the fact that you’re here makes it that much better.”
“Thanks for bringing me on board,” I tell her.
“Hey, you’re the one that bailed me out,” she says, slipping her sunglasses back on. “Your being here means less college-staff drama, and that, my friend, is priceless.”
I swallow hard, hating that I haven’t been entirely truthful with her about Noah. I don’t know if telling her would make things better or worse, but I hate that this secret is hanging between us.
We are icebergs. I have to keep reminding myself of our agreement because, of course, I can’t avoid Noah completely.
Roxy, Julie, and Mira have been here for three hours and forty-seven minutes, and even though they’ve been all over the site and have only spent approximately thirty-three minutes talking to me, I still feel like they’re scrutinizing my every move, looking for any evidence that I’m doing something inappropriate with Noah. Or that I don’t belong here.
I’m not sure which is worse.
“Did you hear me?” Noah says. “Vic?”
He’s standing near the top of the ladder and once again, he’s caught me staring. I swear I only meant to spot him (safety first!), but as he reached toward the ceiling to tape the extension cord into place, my eyes snagged on the thin strip of tan skin at his lower back that was exposed right above his belt. The way those jeans are clinging to his muscular body is criminal. My hand is gripping the leg of the ladder with far more force than necessary.
He looks down the ladder at me and a lock of dark hair falls in his eyes. “You okay down there?”
“Yep,” I sputter. “All good.” I hand him the two-foot wide paper star and he secures it into place on the tiny hook in the ceiling.
“Sophie went all out with the space theme,” I say.
“Decorating is one of her superpowers,” he says, adjusting the star so it’s just right.
“Look at us, getting these stars aligned.” It’s a lame attempt at levity, and it falls completely flat.
“Yeah,” Noah says. “If only everything could be fixed with tape and power cords.” His tone is cool and professional, just as it’s been ever since we talked yesterday. Even though he’s doing just as I suggested, it feels like he’s freezing me out.
I hate that feeling.
He climbs down the ladder and his hand brushes over mine as it slides down the rail. He ignores this touch completely, but the heat from his hand sizzles along my skin, his fingers leaving a path of sparks in their wake.
His face reveals nothing, as still as the moon.
This is agony. I want my fun, teasing Noah back. I want all of his warmth and charm, all of his hopeful glances and secret smiles.
“Listen,” I blurt. “About yesterday.”
“What about it?” he says, untangling the bundle of white fairy lights. He frowns, trying to find the end of the string.
I sigh. He’s not going to make this easy.
“I misspoke. I probably came off cold, and I didn’t mean to. This whole situation just has me panicked.” I grab the other end of the strand and try to free it from the mass of lights, but every move I make gets them more tangled. “I’m trying to do the right thing here for both of us. But maybe I’m kidding myself. Maybe I should just suck it up and do the thing I’m good at and stop reaching for something else,” I tell him. “Take the job in Florida and stay in my lane.” The words taste bitter in my mouth.
He frowns. “What job in Florida?”
“That call yesterday. A real estate agent I knew back home offered me a job with her new firm in Pensacola.”
His brow lifts in that way that means he’s part surprised and a little hurt. “Is that really what you want? I thought you were done with real estate.”
“She’s a huge deal. Working for her would make my career.” We fumble with the lights, and when his hand brushes over my arm, his gaze snaps to mine. “I feel like I should do it,” I grit out. “I mean, Diana can be hard to work with— The Devil Wears Prada has nothing on her—but at least that’s a job I know how to do well.” I shrug. “Plus, it would solve my money problems. It’s the smart move.”
“But it’s not what you love.” His tone is cool.
“It’s a top real estate firm,” I tell him. “I’d be foolish to turn down a boat load of money.”
He sighs, raking his hand through his hair. Just when he starts to speak, he bites his lip, like he’s holding back a tidal wave of thoughts.
“What?” I ask.
He leans closer, pinning me with his gaze. The disappointment in his eyes guts me. “I think you’re giving up on this too soon. It’s like you’re looking for reasons to go back to the work that makes you feel hollow.”
“That’s not fair.” I can feel the blood rising in my cheeks, because he’s not entirely wrong. Diana’s the safe choice, the devil I know. If Roxy were to offer me a full time job with the camp—and that’s a massive if —then it’s still a leap that I’m not sure I’m ready for. There’s safety in the familiar, even if familiar doesn’t light me up.
He shakes his head. “Someone’s dangling this shiny thing in front of you, but it’s a distraction. It’s not the thing you need.”
I grit my teeth, tugging at the lights and feeling nothing but tension. He huffs as I pull him off-balance, and we both move our arms above our heads in opposite directions, the little bulbs tinkling in the space between us. We’re trapped in a web of lights now, getting more tangled by the minute.
“How would you know what I need?” I snap.
His brow lifts. “Because you told me, Vic.” His voice is calm, but stern. “You told me you wanted something that brings you joy and gives you purpose—something that excites you. Why do you think you don’t deserve that?”
“It’s not that simple,” I say. “I can’t keep waiting for something that might not happen. What if this is the best offer I get?”
“What if something better is right around the corner?” he says. “Or right in the palm of your hand?”
Heat creeps into my cheeks because he’s not just talking about a job anymore, and now I see I’ve done the very thing I wanted to avoid: I’ve entangled my feelings for working here with my feelings for Noah. Now it’s hard to imagine one without the other—and it’s difficult to say which has the tighter hold on my heart.
And both feel like a risk I’m not quite ready to take.
He tugs on the strand of lights, pulling me closer. “You’re selling yourself short. Settling for something that isn’t what you really want. It kills me to watch you do that.”
I tug right back, but there’s a knot in the bundle of lights left between us. “I’m not something you need to fix, Noah.”
“This isn’t about fixing.” He steps closer, his eyes smoldering. “You can do so much better. You deserve better.” His jaw tenses as he stares down at me through those ridiculously thick lashes. I’m close enough to smell that spicy-woodsy scent that’s all Noah, to see the faint freckles across his cheeks. Being this close just reminds me of lying next to him in his tent, so close that I could see that adorable crooked smile in the moonlight.
He’s not smiling now, but his pupils widen as if he’s thinking of that moment, too. And the kiss that came after. His lips part, just barely, and his brows pinch together as his eyes burn into mine.
My heart hammers in my chest. It’s infuriating how he can make words that seem so demanding sound so protective.
“This summer has been amazing,” I tell him, which is absolutely true. “The kids have been a joy. It’s been exactly the kind of break I needed from all the chaos in my life, but it’s time to get back to reality.”
He frowns, that muscle in his jaw tensing. “This hasn’t felt real to you?”
“Summer camp is this weird dreamlike state,” I tell him. “It’s an escape from your regular life, where you can remake yourself into a different version of who you are for a little while. But when it’s over, you go back to your regular life.” I give him a small shrug. “It’s felt real in the way that dreams feel real—just before you wake up.”
His head dips closer to mine. “Who says you can’t have everything you dream of?” he says, his voice low and gravelly. “Who told you that lie, sweetheart?”
My heart squeezes as he wraps the strand of lights around his hand, pulling me off-balance so I stumble right into him, my palms flat against his chest. Tears prick the corners of my eyes as I think of all the times I’ve been told to manage my expectations, all the times I’ve convinced myself I wasn’t trying hard enough, being brave enough, being good enough. How many times have I held up this facade, projecting this image to everyone that I was fine while crumbling on the inside? How many times did I compromise what I wanted—with my job at Rayanne’s firm, my engagement to Theo—instead of believing something better was waiting for me?
“Noah,” I begin, my voice barely a whisper.
“Listen,” he says, “I’m not going to pressure you for an answer. But I want to make one thing crystal clear.” His voice is doing that sexy-rumble that turns my knees to jelly. “It might be completely selfish, but I don’t want you to go. Partly because I think you’re settling for something your heart doesn’t want—but mostly because I want to go on that date with you.” He pauses and shakes his head. “That’s a lie. I want to go on lots of dates with you, Vic. And I don’t think I’m alone in that feeling.” His gaze locks on mine and that electric feeling is back, zipping along my skin and making my heart flutter like a bird.
“Timing was always our problem, wasn’t it?” I ask him.
He lifts a brow. “I’m not sure I’d agree.”
I think back to that night on the beach, when he’d returned my kiss so fiercely, like he might never get another chance. I’ve replayed that night a thousand times, wondering how it might have gone differently if we’d done that sooner, in a moment that wasn’t overshadowed by fear.
I feel like I’m back in that same position, choosing this path because I’m afraid it’s the best job offer I’ll get. That this move will fix what’s broken in my life.
But what I want most is staring me right in the face, with epic eyebrows and a crooked smile that promises all the adventure I’ve longed for.
I don’t get to have both.
“Hey, what’s all this?” Roxy says, and I jump backwards. Her voice is chipper, but her brow is arched in that way that means she’s taking in this scene and hasn’t missed a single detail. Like the blush that’s creeping up my neck, the way Noah’s hand has caught my arm to steady me.
I step away from him like he’s been struck by lightning and blurt, “Just me being clumsy in a battle with the Christmas lights.”
If Roxy’s brow lifts any higher, it’s going to fly right off her face. She knows that I’m neither clumsy nor capable of lying. “Right,” she says, her gaze flicking to Noah. “Can I help with anything?”
“We’re just about done,” he says, his voice as smooth as honey. Does nothing rattle this man? “Vic, you want to do the honors?”
I blink at him. It’s as if all thoughts have fallen right out of my brain except for one: What you want most is staring you right in the face. What if you let yourself have it?
“Flip the switch?” he says, nodding toward the dozen paper star lights that hang from the ceiling.
“Sure,” I breathe, walking over to the power strips by the windows. When I flip the power switch, Roxy gasps as she holds her fingers to her lips, her grin impossibly wide.
Next to her, Noah’s scanning one side of the room to the other, checking our work.
“Amazing,” Roxy says, and it is.
The whole room is filled with strings of twinkling fairy lights. The star lanterns, made from brightly-colored paper, fill the room with pools of light, their intricate patterns of punched holes now visible. The walls in this room are painted a rich navy blue, so even though it’s not quite dark outside, the effect is stunning. Noah told me earlier that the stars are Sophie’s—they have to stretch the activities budget pretty far, and they rarely have anything left over for decorations. So Sophie brings her own from home. This year, Noah brought the thousand yards of twinkling lights, plus all the gear needed to hang them without damaging the room.
They have this down to an art, and I can’t help but be a little envious of them for finding this vocation that means so much to them.
“Sophie told me there are special cookies,” Roxy says.
“This bakery in town is incredible,” I tell her. “They make sugar cookies with some secret ingredient that are to die for—I ordered five dozen so we all have a few extra.”
“That’s my girl,” Roxy says. “Always sniffing out the best treats.” She glances at Noah and my face burns like the surface of the sun.
“And they’re airbrushed to look like the planets,” I tell her, hoping all this talk of cookies might refocus her attention and stop my hammering heart. “Little pieces of art that are almost too gorgeous to eat. Almost.”
“How’s the visit going?” Noah asks her. “Is Mira head over heels yet?”
Roxy grins. “She’s like a kid in a candy store.” She glances around the room once more and shoves her hands into her skirt pockets. “I figured she’d be happy after a quick tour, but she wants to see every inch of this place. She wants to sit in on the classes tomorrow and even asked to check out the dance. So we’re staying one more night.”
“That’s great news,” I say, but my stomach churns. That’s twenty-four more hours that we’ll be scrutinized, and I’m exhausted from trying to manage all of these feelings that keep coming up. Gwen used to tell me that I shouldn’t tamp down my feelings because it’s like trying to push a beach ball under the water—no matter how hard you shove it down, eventually it’ll spring back to the surface. And probably smack you right in the face.
“For sure,” Roxy says. “I’m glad we got to visit. Perfect timing.”
If only , I think, glancing at Noah. With us, there’s no such thing.
Noah smirks at her. “The fun’s barely started, though. You haven’t heard me deejay.”
Roxy rolls her eyes. “Please tell me that you let Sophie manage the playlist. I’ve told you a thousand times that you can’t dance to Led Zeppelin.”
Noah snorts in defiance, resting his hands on his hips. “Challenge accepted.”
“We want the kids to come back, you know,” she tells him. “And bring their friends. We don’t need to scare them off with your quote-unquote dancing .”
“You’re breaking my heart, Roxy.” His gaze flicks toward me and a lump forms in my throat.
She grins and then nudges my arm. “You okay, Vic? You look like you swallowed a bee.”
“Great,” I tell her. “A-okay.” I give her two thumbs-up, like a total dork, because apparently my awkwardness has been dialed up to eleven.
She purses her lips. “Okay, then. I’ll leave you to it and see you later for activity time.”
Once she’s out the door, I busy myself with untangling the last of the lights. Everything I say to Noah seems to make things weirder between us, and I don’t know how to fix it.
I am so not fine. I’m completely falling for him and refusing to think about what that means. I’m pretending I know what I’m doing here on top of a mountain with a bunch of whiz kids. I’m lying to my best friend and acting as if Noah and I aren’t breaking the biggest rule in the camp’s rule book, and I am failing at playing it cool.
I am light-years from fine.
But until Roxy leaves, I have to pretend that I am.