Dead of Summer

“You mean candidate, right?”

“Sure,” Kinsley shrugs. “Feels kind of casual when you say that instead of target. Like you’re not really in it to win it, you know? But you call him whatever you want.”

“Does he have a name I can call him? You’ve managed to avoid that so far.”

“Don’t know it.” She changes direction from where I’d expected we were heading, and instead of taking us to the beach or the dock, leads us into the middle of the camp. It’s where Otter Hall stands like a fortress for dinners, activities, and hot chocolate to take out to the big bonfire. “Liza asked if I’d show him around,” she tells me, sounding carefully casual.

“So you accepted, to get on her good side. Right, this isn’t a surprise,” I agree, not sure where this is going.

Until I do.

“Oh no, you are not pawning off Mr. New on me. Especially without even giving me a name. No way, Kins. I have enough shit to do without holding the hand of some eighteen-year-old who’s never seen a summer camp before.” My words grow more and more desperate with every stride she takes, and I can feel the weed swirling through my veins as it hits me with too much force, knocking away most of my arguments for why I don’t want to do this.

“I am so pawning him off on you.” She opens one of the large doors and ushers me inside Otter Hall, her hand on the small of my back before coming in after me. “And Liza is going to be incredibly grateful. Really appreciate this favor you’re doing for me, Summer.”

My face contorts into a grimace, and my voice is too loud when I say, “So, was all of your ‘summer love’ talk bullshit? Were you just trying to get me on board with doing you a favor?”

Kinsley blinks innocently, smoothing her hand through her dark brown ponytail. “No? Well, not entirely. I plan to make Liza my summer love conquest.”

“Wow.” I can barely muster more than an eye roll. “Fuck me if I want some summer love, right?”

“Never know.” My best friend lifts one shoulder, then drops it. “Maybe he’s so your type that you’ll fall in love, get married, and join Liza and me on our sailboat.”

“That’s stupid.”

“That’s summer love,” Kinsley taunts, and opens her mouth again before pausing, confusion and a touch of surprise on her features. Then she murmurs a very soft, “Oh,” and I’m stuck staring at her, more confused than anything.

“Summer love, huh?” The smooth, soft voice from behind me nearly catapults me into outer space, and I whirl around to see what might be one of the most gorgeous humans any God has ever seen fit to put on this earth.

That, or I’m higher than I should be and it’s the weed yapping poetically in my brain.

Maybe both, now that I really look at him.

His dark golden-blond, almost brown hair is pushed back from his face and tousled, like he runs his fingers through it a little more than necessary. It’s longer than most guys keep their hair, the soft curls nearly reaching his shoulders. But it only serves to draw attention to his gorgeous high cheekbones, his full lips, and the fact I’m half sure he uses cherry chapstick on his full lips.

Okay, that part definitely is the weed.

As if he knows what I’m thinking, his lips draw up in a half smile, causing his bright honey-brown eyes to glitter with amusement. “Sorry. Was I, uh, interrupting?” He reaches up to run his long fingers through his hair, and for the first time I realize he’s dressed just like us, but with shorts that reach his knees instead of mid-thigh. He’s certainly not fresh out of high school like I’d expected. Instead, I’d peg him at around twenty-three like I am, if not a little older.

Suddenly, I’d rather these uniforms be more like the ‘80s. Short-shorts on guys and all.

“You were not interrupting at all,” Kins assures him, eyes never leaving his face. If she wasn’t two thousand percent into women with no compromise, I’d say she was into him. But when she glances at me like her new plan is coming into focus, I realize even he can’t top the allure of Camp-nurse Liza. “This is Summer.” She shoves me forward, and I’m pretty sure she’s trying to push me into the new counselor. “She’s going to show you around.”

“She’s—” I break off when I trip, nearly falling into him thanks to the languid relaxation still swirling through my bloodstream. His hands come up, fingers outstretched like he’s prepared to catch me, and I pat myself on the back when I don’t make an idiot of myself and actually fall into him.

I’d never live that down.

“She’s right,” I mutter, sweeping my red-brown hair over my shoulder from where it’s become disheveled and in the way. “I’m going to show you around. What’s your name?” Knowing I either have to ask him now—maybe a little rudely—or call him ‘new counselor’ until he deigns to tell me himself.

“Kayde.” He reaches out a hand for mine, and it takes me a whole three seconds to realize he’s waiting for me to shake it.

When I do, his grip is warm, though not damp from sweat. His fingers curl around mine, and his eyes hold my gaze with polite, warm interest. “Kayde Lane.”

“I’m Summer,” I reply, completely unaffected now that my appreciation for his looks is waning. “Welcome to Camp Crestview. Please don’t let any of the kids eat you, because that would be a lot of cleanup for me.”

CHAPTER TWO

He’s not my type.