Chapter 19
Sabine
That kiss in the boat shed completely consumed my every thought. All I could think about was what would’ve happened if Dagmar hadn’t ripped me away from Gwen and how we could’ve stolen another moment alone.
I knew Gwen would be a good kisser, but damn, she thrilled me. Just the thought of her soft lips and eager tongue made my knees weak. She might have ruined every future girlfriend for me because the thought of kissing anyone else suddenly seemed very unappealing. That was one hell of a kiss.
Great, here I go again, I thought. I needed to play it cool this time. I knew I fell in love too hard, too fast, but something about this felt different. Where the others were a quick burn, this beautiful witch felt like a lightning strike.
I needed to see her again, somewhere where Dagmar wouldn’t find us so we could have more than one stolen moment together. Someone put on Chappell Roan because I was once again “HOT TO GO!”
A common misconception about the sapphic community was that we were all chaste Victorian ladies in white dresses who had slow-burn romances that involved staring longingly at each other across fields of wheat while violin concertos played in the background.
No. Nope.
Gwen’s hot mouth had made me horny as sin, and I wanted to jump her bones at my nearest convenience. No concertos, just her soft moans. No white dresses, just her bare skin against mine.
I paused my stomping through the rec center and took a long breath through my nose before running out the door and down the steps.
Why? I groaned inwardly. Why did I have to tumble headfirst into newfound infatuation here of all places?
I clutched the hastily written note in my fist tighter and tighter as I stormed toward the archery range, where the members of the Flower Moon cabin were practicing their shots as their counselors lounged in the shade.
Luckily for me, the rest of the campers were focused on their targets as I approached.
Faith and Gwen were at the end of the row, chatting as they nocked their arrows. Faith spotted me first and said something that had Gwen’s head whipping toward me, twisting her drawn arrow into a torso shot down the row of her cabinmates.
“Whoa!” I exclaimed, hustling the last few steps. Closing the distance between us settled something in my bones. I covered Gwen’s hand with my own, scooting in behind her until we were connected from shoulders to thighs. “Arrows stay pointed at the target. Safety first.”
“Right,” Gwen said breathlessly. “I got distracted. Sorry.”
I had to lift onto my tiptoes to match her height as I laughed breathlessly. “Am I to blame for that?”
“You are,” she teased. “And you know it.”
I did my best to discreetly slip my note into her shorts. “Something to read when you’re alone,” I whispered.
The skin on her arms rippled, but before she could reply, an angry Dagmar shouted, “Sabine!”
I shot backward, releasing Gwen as she shot her arrow into the ground in front of us.
“Yes?” I called, adjusting my baseball cap lower over my eyes as if that might somehow hide the bright red blush crossing my cheeks.
“What are you doing here?” Dagmar crowed, her whistle swinging as she stomped toward me. “Don’t you have your own duties to oversee?”
“Just offering some quick posture advice,” I said, awkwardly hooking a thumb at Gwen. “You know, helping with the technique.”
Dagmar crossed her thick arms over her barrel chest. “They’re meant to practice using their magic to hit a bull’s-eye, not technique,” she scolded.
“Magic is how we win the summer games.” Then she eyed the two Flower Moon counselors who were hastily running out of the shade to make it look like they were doing something.
Dagmar clapped at them like a football coach.
“Ladies, this is a camp for upstanding witches, not sitting witches. Look alive. Come on.”
“Sorry,” they both called back, at least having the good sense to be afraid of Dagmar. They started walking up and down the line of archers like supervising army commanders, darting looks at Dagmar to make sure she wasn’t going to explode at them again.
When Dagmar was satisfied with the fear she’d instilled, she turned back to me.
“Though I appreciate your attempts at helping while they were left unsupervised, Sabine,” Dagmar said, taking one last dig at the lackadaisical counselors. “Maybe do it with a bit more physical distancing, hmm?”
I gave Dagmar an awkward thumbs-up. “You got it, Daggy.”
Dagmar wrinkled her nose. “Only Iris can get away with that.”
“It sounded wrong as I said it,” I admitted sheepishly.
“You are due at the lake for your shift in two minutes,” Dagmar added, tapping her watch for emphasis. “I suggest you book it like a black cat on a hot tin roof.”
“Right, okay. Uh, bye, everyone!”
I made a point to not look back at Gwen, but I had a feeling that my antics had made her red-lipped frown turn into a smile.