“Okay,” she says, a hint of defeat in her voice. “But Russ looks at you the way my dad looks at my papa when he isn’t looking, so I think he might love you.”
“Goodnight, Freya,” I groan.
It’s an unwritten rule at camp that you will be terrorized by your campers about potential love interests. I know that because I was once the person doing all the terrorizing.
The smart thing to do is forget about it, because who would trust the opinion of a small child? And yet here I am, wondering exactly how Freya’s dads look at each other.
Thankfully, no other kids decide to pry into my life and Russ stays far enough away from me that he doesn’t give Leon and his rumor mill any more material. I haven’t seen Russ since our almost-kiss, swiftly followed by running from the rain, earlier.
I really thought he was going to do it this time. We were so close and his hands on me felt right, but I suppose unlike me, he knows how to exercise restraint. I wasn’t expecting to have a wild summer filled with hook ups, for obvious reasons, but surely no one will die if we have one tiny little kiss.
If he wants to fuck me against a tree, I could also be convinced to get on board.
God, I wish I’d brought my vibrator.
“You look like you’re thinking hard about something,” Russ laughs, filling the empty spot beside me. “What’s up?”
“Forgot my vibrator.” I freeze on the spot and make the smart choice not to look at him and see the aftermath of my words. His ears are definitely pink, I don’t even need to look at him to check. I just know. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
“Want me to walk you back to your cabin?” he says, thankfully ignoring my comment. “The weather is crappy.”
“No, it’s okay,” I mumble, looking out at the black sky. “I’m going to hang out here until everyone goes to bed.”
“Do you mind if I stay too?”
“I’d really like it if you did.”
The thunder is louder in the cabin than it was in the movie room and I’m considering taking Xander up on his offer. Three-person night duty can become a thing, right?
I’ve tried music on my headphones. I’ve tried calming meditation. I’ve tried distracting myself with a book, but the weather is so bad, not even sexy billionaires with a theme park are enough to distract me. Every time the sky booms, I swear the cabin shakes. I’ve talked myself out of heading to Russ’s cabin three times. I was like someone from a movie when they stand up, walk to the door and put their hand on the handle, before dramatically shaking their head and walking away.
Nothing good can come from me heading over to see him—and yet the idea sticks. He can’t make the storm stop and I can’t get go into his cabin, so there’s no point me venturing out in the dark.
Knowing my luck, I’ll step outside and get struck by lightning.
I’m arguing with myself for the fourth time, when there’s a knock on the door. What are the chances that Russ has been having the same argument with himself? When he finally closes those final few inches and kisses me?
Pulling back the door, I realize the answer to that question is zero.
Zero chance.
“Wow, you two are messy,” Jenna complains, poking her head through the doorway. She looks at the clothes on the floor and frowns. “How do you guys move around in here?”
“Can I help you, Ms. Murphy?” I grumble, not even attempting to hide my disappointment that she isn’t a six-foot five hockey player with pretty blue eyes and a tendency to blush.
“Wow, she’s grumpy today. Still not over the storm thing, I see.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a flashlight. “In case the power goes out.”
The power might go out. Fantastic. “Remind me, why did I choose working for you over hanging out on a yacht or something equally douchey, but cool?”
“Because you love me,” she says proudly. “And sure, yachts are cool, but you ever had to deal with so much rainwater everywhere floods? You can’t get experiences like that in Dubai.”
“Living the dream, Jen.”
“You know it,” she grins. “Okay, you’re my last delivery. I’m going to bed because I don’t have to work tonight and this weather fucking sucks. Don’t stress, okay? It’ll be over by morning.”
When has telling someone not to stress ever helped them not stress? Climbing back into bed, I try again with the book before giving up after five minutes. For the first time in my life, I’m not feeling romance books.