7. Kayla
CHAPTER SEVEN
KAYLA
I walk into the conference room early at the youth center and almost walk right back out. The room is empty except for Chase, leaning back in a chair with his outstretched legs crossed at the ankles. He laughs at something on his phone, and I dig my fingernails into my palm to keep my thoughts from drifting toward how good he looks with that light blue polo stretched across his shoulders. It’s only Thursday, but he is everywhere, all the time, making it hard for me to forget he exists. He has infiltrated the diner, camp training, and even the gas station. Bender’s a small town, but I never realized how small until now. Sure, he’s cute and funny, and probably would be my type if I had time for any of that. But I don’t have time, and won’t have time, which makes the intensity in his eyes whenever he looks at me that much more annoying.
I’m about to step backward through the doorway when he sees me. “Oh, hey, Kayla .” He smirks, sitting up in his chair. Even the way he says my name is intense. “No Ashlie today?”
“Nope, she’s back to work at the museum.” I’m trying to think of some excuse to leave, but my brain has decided to quit on me—and betray me, apparently, seeing as it’s telling my feet to move closer to Chase and farther from the hallway .
“That’s right, she did mention something about that. I guess it’s just you and me then…” He looks right in my eyes during the last part and smiles, and my stupid knees wobble.
In my distraction, my toe catches on the carpet in front of his chair. I lurch forward and reach out to catch myself just as he stands up to catch me. His hands wrap around my upper arms as I land against him, my palms flat on his chest.
We freeze.
Slowly, his thumbs stroke my upper arms, and I know he can feel my goosebumps rising. He smells good—woodsy and fresh—and the impulse I had to run in the opposite direction has flipped, urging me to lean in closer to him.
“You okay?” he asks, smiling down at me. I manage to nod, looking down and dropping my hands from his chest. With his thumbs still caressing my arms, I mistakenly glance into his eyes again, and I’m trapped. I can’t look away, and he’s already proven he won’t look away first. He licks his bottom lip, smiles wider, and asks, “You already falling for me?”
And that little bit of charm is all it takes for me to snap out of the trance I stumbled into, allowing me to take a step away. I laugh, attempting to shake the nerves from my body by shaking my head. “Not yet,” I say before thinking. My mouth falls open, and he chuckles.
“Not yet, huh? So there’s a chance…” He tips his head, a glint of amusement flickering in his eyes.
“I meant, not likely. Not ever.”
“But you said, ‘not yet,’ which means?—”
“Hey, guys!” Claire calls from across the room. I’ve never been so happy to see the camp director in my life. I drop my bag on a seat, leaving an empty chair between me and Chase, and scurry over to talk to Claire.
“Need any help?” I ask, almost jumping with enthusiasm. I glance over my shoulder, and by some small miracle, Chase has stayed put. Sami and Kyle, the twins, stroll in as Claire places a stack of notebooks in one of my arms and a bag of pens in my hand to pass out to the group.
By the time I make it back to the seats, Sami has posted up next to Chase, talking a mile a minute. Her long black ponytail sways back and forth down her back as her short legs swing under her chair. Emphasizing whatever she’s talking about, her hands swirl in the air while Chase smiles and nods. Sami’s a cheerleader at Oregon Central and has the energy to prove it. She’s friendly, charismatic, and I don’t think she has a mean bone in her body. Kyle sits on the opposite end of the semicircle, thumbs plucking away on his phone. They have the same face but couldn’t be more different. He’s tall with a buzz cut, and a lot gruffer than his sister—sarcastic and stoic.
“Hey, Kyle!” I hand him a notebook and pen. He looks up from his phone, tips his chin in greeting, and tucks the notebook on his lap without a word.
Samson slides into a seat next to Kyle, yawning while he ties his dark brown hair in a messy knot on the top of his head. He’s been a counselor for Camp Bender a little longer than I have, starting a few years before me when he was right out of high school. I’ve never seen him any other way than he is right now, always rolling in at the last possible second and yawning his way through the day.
“Thanks,” Samson mumbles as I pass his book over to him. He crosses his ankle over his knee and leans his head back against the chair, using the notebook to cover his face.
Circling around to Sami and Chase, I drop a notebook and pen next to my purse before turning to them.
“Oh no, were you sitting here?” Sami gasps.
“Nope, you’re just fine right there.” I smile big, encouraging her to settle into the chair separating me from Mr. Charm. While handing over her writing supplies, I notice Chase nodding his head from the corner of my eye. When I look up to give him his notebook, he’s already looking back at me. His pointer finger rests over his upper lip, nodding still, like he’s impressed with my ability to curve him. I’ve won this round, and we both know it.