Chapter 19
The next day was excruciating.
Leonie did her best to act normal. This was difficult. None of the kids said anything to her face, but there was a lot of muffled giggling going on.
It only got worse. Gossip traveled fast at camp. By lunchtime, it was clear everyone knew what had happened—or almost happened—during Truth or Dare.
See, this is why you don’t almost kiss your co-counselor in a freezer, Leonie scolded herself as she pretended not to notice the snickers and knowing glances. Now everyone thinks you’re screwing like bunnies.
Not that there was any rule against relationships between staff members, as long as you were discreet in front of the kids. A lot of unmated counselors paired up over the summer for temporary flings. What happened at camp, stayed at camp.
She’d been tempted herself, once or twice. But she’d always gently turned down the occasional hopeful overture. As the head counselor, it would have been beyond inappropriate for her to have a fling with a subordinate.
Of course, Shan wasn’t really a counselor.
Unfortunately, most people didn’t know that. And it wasn’t like she could tell them.
Shan clearly felt just as awkward about the situation. She hadn’t realized just how accustomed she’d become to his whole I’m-secretly-obsessed-with-you act. Now, he seemed to be doing his best to quell the rising gossip. He couldn’t exactly keep his distance from her, but he was painfully polite.
Which was a problem, because if he kept that up, the kids were soon going to figure out they weren’t really mates. It was better to endure a bit of teasing from the rest of the staff than blow their entire cover story.
And they had almost kissed.
Leonie had to wait until mid-afternoon for a chance to speak with him alone.
This was not assisted by Shan himself, who seemed determined to avoid being within twenty feet of her without at least eight chaperones.
She finally had to ‘accidentally’ forget to pick up the evening duty roster in order to drag him into the office for a private chat.
If she was honest, she’d harbored a glimmer of hope that he might fall upon her like a starving beast the moment she closed the door. This, alas, did not happen. Shan looked more like a rabbit locked in a room with a hungry lion.
Oh, no. This conversation was already not off to a good start.
She took a deep breath, steeling herself. “Shan, about last night—”
“I am sorry,” he said before she could even finish the sentence. He stood stiffly, gloved hands behind his back, hidden gaze fixed somewhere over her left shoulder. “It will not happen again.”
That was really not where she’d hoped this conversation would go.
“What if I want it to happen?” she asked.
Shan’s biceps flexed, as if he was clenching his fists. “It would be better if you did not.”
“Why? We’re both grown adults, and I’m not actually your boss.” Summoning all her courage, she moved closer. “Look, I know there can’t be anything serious between us. I’m not asking for that. But why shouldn’t we enjoy a temporary summer fling, if that’s what we both want?”
He took a step back. “Because I do not.”
His voice was harsh; almost brutal. It hit her like a wall, stopping her in her tracks. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe, let alone reply.
“I am sorry,” Shan said, more gently. He sounded genuinely regretful. “I did not realize until last night that you had developed these feelings. If I had, I would have discouraged them earlier.”
“No,” she said, throat tight. “No, I’m the one who should apologize. I’m sorry for making things awkward. And you don’t have to keep pretending in front of the kids.”
Shan shook his head. “We cannot risk them learning the truth. Not now. Best if we carry on as we were.”
There was nothing she wanted less…but he was right.
Most of the campers still had no idea there really was some truth to the stories of the camp ghost. Even Rufus didn’t know the full extent of what they’d uncovered.
With an unknown person potentially still lurking near the camp, they couldn’t have curious campers sneaking out to poke around the woods.
“Okay. If you’re sure.” She turned away, pretending to look for something on her clipboard. “Don’t worry. I won’t let myself get confused between what’s real and what isn’t. You’d better get back to the kids. I’ll…I’ll be along in a minute.”
Shan hesitated for a moment, as though he wanted to say something else. Then he nodded and left.
Alone, Leonie slumped against Zephyr’s desk. She looked down at her clipboard, which now showed her timetable. According to the schedule, she was supposed to be helping the kids toast s’mores at the campfire tonight. With Shan.
Ten minutes ago, she would have been looking forward to it.
I dare you to do something for yourself.
“Screw it,” she muttered, and drew a line through her name.
She scanned the rest of the duty roster, checking who else was free that evening. Satisfied, she tucked her clipboard under her arm. Rather than rejoin her own pack, she headed for the lake.
“Leonie?” Moira looked rather startled by her unscheduled appearance. “Is something wrong?”
“Nope,” she said brightly, thankful that none of her friends shared Shan’s ability. “Hey, you want to go out tonight?”
“So,” Honey said, over the third round of cocktails (in Paige’s case, non-alcoholic). “Are we going to talk about it?”
Leonie stabbed her fork into her steak. “Talk about what?”
“The reason you suddenly decided we should all go out tonight,” Moira said. For once, she was without her ever-present bodyguard, Ragvald having agreed—in an unusual display of tact—to stay back at camp. “And why you’re mauling that poor defenseless hunk of beef.”
“Are we talking about the steak, or Shan?” Paige said under her breath.
Leonie glared across the table at her friend. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” Paige took an innocent sip of her tonic water. “Just that normally, he’s the one who seems to be starving. Particularly when you’re around.”
“Yes.” Leonie sawed at her steak. “He’s good at seeming.”
“Ouch,” said Honey. “Sounds like the rumors flying around camp aren’t particularly accurate. Do you want to tell us what happened?”
“No,” Leonie snapped, and immediately felt guilty. She sighed, setting down her cutlery. “Sorry, everyone. I’m in a foul mood this evening. I made a fool of myself earlier, and I’m still smarting over it.”
“Ragvald told me a little about what happened at games night,” Moira said. “He, ah, thought it had gone well.”
Leonie bit back a groan. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one who’d mistaken fiction for fact. In retrospect, it was obvious that Ragvald had been colluding with the kids. He’d probably thought he was being helpful.
“Moira, can you have a talk with Ragvald?” She went back to poking at her now shredded steak. “He seems to be a bit confused. You need to make it clear to him that Shan and I aren’t really mates.”
Her friends exchanged glances.
“Leonie,” Moira said, very carefully. “Have you ever seen Shan’s eyes?”
“No, of course not. He wears those sunglasses all the time.” She looked round at all the carefully neutral expressions. “Wait. Don’t tell me you all think we’re mates?”
“I know it’s easy to convince yourself you must be misreading all the signs,” Honey said gently. “I’ve made that mistake myself in the past. But the man is obsessed with you.”
“You know that’s just a show for the kids.” They couldn’t seriously believe this nonsense, could they? “He’s only pretending.”
Moira cleared her throat. “Leonie, I don’t think he’s that good an actor.”
“Oh, he is.” She scowled at her plate. “Believe me, he’s made his real feelings very clear.”
“Did he?” Honey asked. “Or was he desperately pushing you away? Because it seems to me that if the two of you are mates, he’s absolutely terrified of you finding out.”
The whole theory was utter nonsense, yet a faint twinge of unease twisted her stomach. She’d never told anyone else how Shan felt about himself, or his struggle with his animal. It had been something he’d shared in private, just with her.
Shan had spent his life repressing his qiongqi. He would fight tooth and claw to resist his own instincts. No matter the cost.
She shook off the momentary uncertainty. “But…if I’m his mate, surely I should have some idea. Even without seeing his eyes, I should have sensed some connection between us.”
“Maybe you do, and just haven’t realized,” Paige said. “What does your animal think?”
Her lioness had never exactly been talkative. To humor her friends, she mentally prodded her animal.
Well? she asked in the privacy of her own head. Is Shan my mate?
Her animal flicked an ear in a feline shrug. Why are you asking me?
That was less than helpful. You’re my animal. You’re supposed to know these things.
Not like this. Her lioness yawned, chin settling back onto its front paws. You’re the one that’s all here. What do you think?
“What does your lioness say?” Honey prompted.
“Nothing much. As usual.” She folded her arms. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. I know Shan. He doesn’t lie. And he told me right to my face that—”
I cannot pretend to be your mate.
Shan didn’t lie. He always chose his words carefully, with utter precision. Everything he said, he meant.
Which wasn’t the same as being honest.
I cannot pretend to be your mate.
“Oh,” she said, barely audible.
Paige let out a relieved groan. “And she sees the light at last.”
“Thank goodness,” Honey sighed. “I thought we were going to have to hit them both over the head with a shovel and lock them in a broom closet.”
“That was the easy part, though,” Moira said, brow creasing. “We still have to get Shan to admit the truth.”
“Don’t worry,” Leonie said grimly. Draining the last of her cocktail, she stood up. “You can leave that to me.”