S'more of You (Summer Lovin' collection)(5)

Up ahead, I see Dean’s silhouette moving in the camp laundry facility, one of the only no-campers-allowed spots on the grounds. Many a counselor crying jag has taken place within those walls, not to mention passionate counselor hookups—not that I’ve had the honor of being part of one yet. Some laundry gets done in there, too, on occasion, which appears to be what Dean is doing now. This is my chance.

I tighten the straps of the sexiest shirt in my possession—a black halter top—and tuck a rogue strand of hair into my braid, then loosen my shoulders with a jumpy wiggle before striding up the slope toward the laundry hut. I gulp a deep breath for courage before opening the door and slipping inside, closing it behind me. It’s an overcast day outside, so the inside of the laundry hut is dim and hazy, but Dean’s gaze cuts right through it, landing on me where I’ve pressed my back against the door.

Neither one of us moves for five long seconds.

Say something.

Quickly, I register the sheets he’s transferring from the washer to the dryer. “Bed wetter?”

“No.”

I wince. “Puker?”

He shakes his head.

“Someone went to bed with a s’more stuck to their clothes and woke up in bunch of smeared chocolate and goo?”

His lips twitch at one end. “Yup.”

“Camp is officially in session.”

Dean finished his task of stuffing wet sheets into the dryer and hitting the on button, causing the ancient machine to lurch into action, filling the hut with white noise. “How is your cabin this year? Saw you had one homesick girl.”

Of course he noticed that. “She’s all good now. I handled it.”

“How?”

“I snuck a half gallon of chocolate ice cream and fifteen spoons from the dining hall, and I let her take credit for it. She’s a cabin legend now and basking in the glory.”

After a moment, he laughs under his breath. “That’s some kind of sneaky genius.”

“I’ll replace the ice cream.” He gives me a look that says give me a break, and my stomach flutters so intensely, I have no choice but to push off the door, trying not to fidget as I draw closer to Dean. “You might have bested us in the battle for Firefly Hill, Ingram, but we’re going to dominate at the end-of-camp talent show. I’ve got two gymnasts and a beatboxer.” I’m standing toe-to-toe with him now, making it necessary to tip my head back to keep eye contact. “You should just hand over the trophy now.”

He makes a low sound in his throat. “Not without a fight.”

Let me tell you, it’s hard to give a flirtatious smile when my pulse is pounding in a staccato rhythm, thanks to the evening beard growth on his jaw. Salt water and pine trees surround me in a cloud, leaving me tongue tied. “Maybe the counselors should have a little side bet. Riding on the outcome of the talent show.”

“Betting on a children’s talent show? College has corrupted you, Berry.”

“No, but . . .” I eliminate any hint of space between us, slowly flattening my breasts against his chest. “Maybe you could. Corrupt me.”

I’m so grateful that I’m staring into his eyes; otherwise I’d have missed the quick pulse of his pupils, the sudden weight of his lids. The sound of his swallow. “You never did know when to let a failed prank go.” His gaze drops to my mouth, his chest rising and deflating against me. “I’m not falling for it.”

“There’s nothing to fall for.”

“Right. Nothing besides you.” I grab that muttered statement like a lifeline, hurrying to dissect it from all angles, but he keeps talking and I’m forced to set those four words aside until later. “I’m just supposed to believe you suddenly like me. Lipstick like me? You’ve never shown any interest in me before.”

“Yes, I did,” I whisper, mentally begging for him to believe me. “You just weren’t paying attention.”

“Yes, I was.”

That’s fair for him to believe that. Dean doesn’t miss anything. He’s observant and intuitive. But my brain and heart are still learning how to function as a team. I’ve done some things in the past that might have presented as pranks, but if he’d just examine those pranks a little closer, I’m sure he would realize I always had ulterior motives. “When someone grows up in a household with four siblings, they must be loud and creative so they don’t get lost in the shuffle. Pranks were my way of getting your attention.”

I can see he’s still highly skeptical, studying my face for signs of deception.

Man, I’ve really messed this dude up.

“You’re a hell of an actress, Berry. I’ve witnessed you bring a whole dining hall to tears with that monologue from Gone Girl.”

The urge to recite it again now bubbles in my throat. Thespian problems. “I’m not acting. Do you really think I would go this far? Lipstick and my best black halter top?”

“Yes, you would.”

“Wow, you didn’t even hesitate.” I make an exasperated sound. “If I’m lying about having a crush on you, then wouldn’t you be able to tell if you kissed me?”

He’s back to staring hard at my mouth, the muscles shifting in his throat. “It’s risky.”

“I’m not a risk.”