Chapter 14
Gwen
Istood on the edge of the lake, staring at Sabine’s liberally sunscreened back at the far end of the docks.
The clouds had finally blown past, and everyone instantly flocked to the water, which, bonus points, meant seeing my crush in basically nothing at all.
I had no idea how I was going to walk past her without imploding.
It would take scrubbing my eyeballs in rubbing alcohol to clear the vision of Sabine in that wet T-shirt from my mind.
Fuck. Despite all my attempts to avoid her, I knew I was so screwed.
Maybe outdoorsy witches were my thing after all.
Sabine had just popped up into my life and sneak-attacked me, the last sort of person I’d thought could pull on my heart strings.
Something about camp just expedited all of the feelings, too.
No phones, no distractions, just me constantly wildly aware of her proximity.
I knew these sort of quick-burn friendships and romances well, falling for someone over the course of a school year, only to move again.
But this . . . this felt different than all of those whirlwind crushes.
How was I going to manage to avoid her? The camp wasn’t that big. If she turned around right now, for example, she’d see me awkwardly tottering around the shoreline.
This entire summer was going to be torture.
Still, I was proud of myself for telling her that we needed to keep our distance.
While it was true that I didn’t want Astrid ruining my summer, the real reason I took a step back—when I desperately wanted to take a step forward—was because of Sabine herself.
She wanted to graduate into the coven proper, and she wouldn’t be able to if she was caught hooking up with a camper.
And we’d come so close to tanking all of her plans with a single kiss. I couldn’t do that to her.
My hand snaked between my legs in the shower every night as I thought about that heated look in her eyes, that tight shirt, her wet hair, her hungry eyes . . .
She’d wanted to kiss me.
She’d wanted to do more than kiss me, and damn it all to hell, I’d told her that I’d rather date a witch so she’d know I was open to it.
Why egg her on just to shut her down?
Shit, shit, shit.
I was going to burn up into a horny crisp before this summer was over.
And now she was on lifeguard duty at the lake in tight, little swim shorts and a racerback bikini top, fulfilling all of my Sandlot fantasies.
“I’m going back to the cabin,” I muttered to Faith because I was about to combust.
She caught me by the elbow before I could turn in the opposite direction. “But you said you’d go out on the canoe with me. Please?”
Curse her and her puppy-dog eyes. Normally, I was immune to such blatant begging, but I had a soft spot for Faith.
She hadn’t been my friend for long, and she probably wouldn’t be my friend once we left at the end of the summer, but she was kind to me, and the least I could do was get in a freaking canoe for her.
“Fine,” I relented. “Better than sitting here getting sand up my crack all day.”
“You are the most cheerful person in the world, you know that?”
I rolled my eyes. “I’ll get the life jackets; you get the paddles.”
She saluted me and headed off to the copse of trees by the boat shed where the paddles were kept.
I waddled my way onto the rocking dock, snagging two life jackets from the stand and wandering to where the canoes were tied up at the far end of the pier.
As I passed Sabine, she let out a whistle. “Look at you being a team player,” she said. “SCUW working its magic on you, Gwen?”
“I’m just going for a paddle, not volunteering to lead the camp in a sisterly song.”
“I give it a week,” she said with a wink.
She looked extra adorable in her floppy bucket hat and with a white stripe of zinc over her freckled nose.
“Yeah, yeah,” I said as I put my arms through the life jacket.
“Here,” she said, reaching out and clipping the top buckle. “Let me.”
I was pretty sure a three-year-old could manage the giant plastic buckles, but when she stepped into me, crowding my space, all my protests vanished from my lips.
Sabine yanked on the fabric, tightening my jacket and tugging me toward her.
I pressed my lips together, surprised by the intimacy of the action.
“I know you can do it,” she said, lowering her voice to a whisper. “I just like strapping you in.”
My mouth fell open, my throat going dry at the insinuation, but before I could say anything more, Faith came romping up the dock.
“Ready!” she sang. “You good to go?”
“I bet she is,” Sabine added with a wicked grin. Oh god, she was punishing me for letting Astrid win, wasn’t she? This was pure, unadulterated torture. Dante’s got nothing on me.
I groaned, scrubbing a hand down my face. “Yep,” I said, popping my P. “Let’s go.”
I shot Sabine a warning look, but she just winked at me.
So incredibly wink-y all of a sudden. So this was how we were going to play it? Fine.
“I’ll hold the canoe. You get in first,” I said to Faith, bending over and pointedly sticking my ass in Sabine’s direction as Faith climbed in.
I was rewarded with a choking sound from behind me.
My smile widened as I climbed in and paddled off, feeling the weight of a certain witch’s eyes tracking me all the way across Lake Nevermore.