“Hey.” I prop a shoulder against the doorframe as Mr. River looks up from his laptop. “Is there anything you need me to do before everyone gets here?”
He runs a hand across his balding head. Normally Mrs. River is here to help with all the logistical work, but she’s in Arizona getting her mother settled into a memory care unit. It’s the reason he begged me to come back this summer. If I had said no, he would be running this thing with only a fresh batch of semi-reliable teenagers at the helm.
A groan of frustration rumbles in his chest. “There are discrepancies with the food order. Every other year Helen does it but…I didn’t realize we had five extra sign-ups this year and we won’t receive another food delivery until the halfway point.”
“Need me to run to the general store? It will be more expensive, but at least we won’t have another dessert disaster.”
This brings a smile to his face. When other people are around, he puts on a nice show, but I know the stress he’s under with the camp and his wife gone to help his mother-in-law. I told him he should have canceled this year, but he wouldn’t hear anything about that.
“Great idea. Bring one of the early birds with you. Tell them I’ll give them extra brownie points or something.
I force a smile and step backward onto the porch. Choices are limited. There’s no way I’m asking one of the bros. And Lyla in a car with me, alone, is a terrible idea. Even if I need to apologize for how I acted earlier. Locking myself in the tiny cabin of my truck with her will be too much of a temptation. So, I’m left with going alone.
On the trek down to the designated parking lot, which is a dirt lot that never had cabins built on it, I notice there are a couple more cars here.
Good. Maybe I’ll have some help after all.
When I near the parking lot, I pause next to the giant sign with Camp Whispering Willow painted in red as a girl giggles. No, not just any girl. Lyla. She’s leaning against her beat-up Beetle, laughing at the ground as her friend elbows her in the ribs. Right away I notice it’s the same stupid car she fought tooth and nail to buy, even though Jay and I warned her it would end up being more money and trouble than it was worth. To be honest, I’m surprised the thing is still running.
I pick up the pace and jog down the hill and round a tree, coming into full view. Not a soul glances in my direction. In fact, both of the guys from my cabin have inched closer to the girls. Jason tugs on the end of Lyla’s braid and I swear it’s as if someone set a fire underneath me.
In a few long strides I’m standing behind Jason glaring a hole through the back of his head. It takes a second, but Lyla is the first to notice me. Her spine snaps straight as she leans away from her car. Her friend’s gaze flicks to me and I don’t miss the hint of irritation mixed in with the same longing I saw on her face earlier.
“Hey…” Lyla says, her voice wavering.
I hate that she feels so uneasy around me now. But I deserve it. I caused it.
“I need someone to run down to the market with me,” I speak as if I’m talking to the group, but my eyes haven’t strayed from Lyla’s face.
Her bottom lip slips between her teeth as her posture becomes more and more uneasy. “I guess I could help…”
“Cockblock much?” Jason mock whispers.
All of us swing our attention to him, making him front and center just like he wanted. His friend Dax shakes his head. Lyla’s friend tries to suppress a nervous giggle. And Lyla, well, her eyes bug out and her mouth opens and closes several times with no words making their way out.
My smile is tight as I take a step toward him. “Don’t you have to go sign in?” I grit out, keeping a loose grip on my temper. It’s one thing I wish I’d grown out of, but I’ve always been a hothead.
“Come on, dude.” Dax shoves Jason forward with his shoulder.
With one last glare, he moves away from Lyla. “Yeah, whatever. See you girls later,” he calls over his shoulder as they make their way back to camp.
“What’s later?” I ask the second they are out of sight.
“There’s an, uh, a—” Lyla fumbles over her words and I know it’s because of the look I’m giving her.
“A bonfire,” her friend finishes for her. Apparently, my anger has no effect on her.
“No.” I cross my tense arms over my chest and Lyla casts a nervous glance at her friend.
“Okay, Dad,” her friend laughs, which loosens Lyla up a bit.
“It’s just a bonfire.”
“And leaving the camp without permission is against the rules.” My stony glare once again locks Lyla up. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I can’t seem to turn it off. Something took over the moment I saw that guy’s hands on her and now I’m like a man possessed. This isn’t me at all.
“Like anyone will care. The kiddies will be all tucked in tight. Why not blow off a little steam?” Lyla’s friend raises an eyebrow. Goading me. She’s not fazed in the slightest by my growing anger.
“Scarlett, it’s—”
“No.” She turns to Lyla. “It’s not okay. He’s not the emperor of this camp. We’re eighteen. We can do what we want.”
Lyla’s gaze bounces between me and her friend, uncomfortable with how this situation is playing out.
“There’s a curfew. If someone finds out you’re breaking it, you’ll be sent home.” I let the implication of my words hang in the air. I’m not above breaking up this little bonfire if it means keeping Lyla safe. Those guys are up to no good and I can’t even imagine what the rest of them will be like.
She’s too innocent for the things guys get up to with pretty girls in the dark.
“Jesus, who shoved a stick up your butt? It’s a bonfire. It’s a party, not the end of the world.” Scarlett latches on to Lyla’s hand and tugs her toward camp.
“You’re not going.”
I see the exact moment Lyla’s defenses go up. Her whole body tenses, and her chin juts out the same way it did when Jay used to tell her no or say she was too young to be hanging around us.
I overstepped, and I know what her next move will be. She’ll do the exact thing she was forbidden from doing just to prove a point.
“I have some unpacking to do and I don’t want to miss orientation. Have fun at the market.” Her icy gaze slides right over me as she focuses on her friend. “Come on, Scar.”
I stare after their retreating backs, kicking myself. If there is one thing I should have remembered about Lyla Underwood, it’s that she hates to be challenged. I’ve just ensured she is going to that bonfire.
Fantastic.
Hours later, I’m still vibrating with anger. Screw cliff diving or any of the other dumb things Scarlett has talked me into. Nothing can compare to the overwhelming adrenaline rushing through my limbs.
“You’re not going,” I mock in a snotty voice that is more fit for a child than an adult. But whatever. My reaction is matching his. “Who the hell does he think he is?”
“A douche?” Scarlett finishes applying her bright red lipstick in the mirror. The rest of the counselors have already left for the bonfire, but Scarlett had to make sure her makeup was perfect. Her outfit too, which meant many, many hours in front of the mirror. Why she brought a bunch of sundresses to a summer camp is beyond me, but it appears they came in handy. She looks smokin’. The pink number she has on hits midthigh and highlights her muscular cheerleading legs.