“Yes?” His voice is strained this time and he can’t see my grin but it’s huge.
“You may not want to look at me, but if it’s all the same to you I’m gonna pretend my hand is your mouth for the next few minutes.”
His forehead thunks against the door. “You are such an ass.”
“See ya later, Sweet Cheeks. Have fun with Bryce.”
I smile as he mutters to himself and finally closes the door.
* * *
The next morningI’m eating breakfast with some campers, and Kyle and Paxton are giving each other the stink eye. How something went down between dinner last night and breakfast this morning is a mystery, but where there’s a will there’s a way, particularly for a couple of twelve-year-olds who are already prone to trouble.
“Guys, cut the crap.” They squirm beneath my severe stare. “You don’t want Coach D. to have to pull you aside again. If you get kicked out you may lose your chance of coming back here in the future.” Paxton pales at the thought but Kyle juts his chin out defiantly. “I mean it, Kyle.”
He curls his upper lip and sneers at Paxton, who narrows his eyes back at him. “Don’t be a dick, Kyle. Chill out.”
Kyle shoves his plate aside, stands up, and reaches over the table, yanking Paxton up by the collar of his t-shirt. “You better shut your mouth, you little weasel.”
“Whoa, guys, come on now.” I stand up and try to help Paxton out of Kyle’s grip. It’s an awkward angle and Kyle is impressively strong for such a young kid, more so with all that adrenaline pumping. He finally lets go just as Coach D. starts to head over to our table, and because I’m bent over tugging when Paxton fumbles backward his head whips back and catches me on the forehead.
“Ow, fu—udge,” I grumble and hold a hand to my head. Paxton has enough presence of mind to look sheepish. Coach D. has a deep frown when he gets to the table. He takes one look at the boys and sighs.
“Schalk, Anders, let's go have another chat.” He nods his head to the door, then looks over at me. “Becker, go get some ice on that. Have Johnson take a look while you’re at it. Muller,” he calls over his shoulder to Bryce. “Can you fill in for Becker for a bit until he gets back to his group?”
Paxton didn’t hit me that hard, seriously, but Coach D. is very frustrated and I don’t want to add to his irritation. Bryce surveys the four of us and nods. “Yeah, sure Coach.”
Twenty minutes later Johnson cleared my head “injury” and gave me an ice pack to keep on it for a bit. I pass by the hallway that has all the storage rooms on my way toward the exit when someone calls out to me.
“Dacen?” Backtracking a few steps, I peer down the hallway. Ryne’s standing just outside one of the storage rooms holding a stack of bright orange cones. When I come to a stop in front of him, he sets the cones down and frowns. “What happened to your head?”
Chagrined, I give him a crooked smile. “It got in the way of Paxton’s hard head.”
Ryne scratches the stubble on his cheek. If it’s possible, the scruff makes him even hotter. “How the fuck did you manage that?”
I crack my neck from one side to the other and shrug. “He and Kyle got into it at breakfast and let’s just say my attempt at helping wasn’t very effective. I look at it as my cosmic payback for when I made you hit your head.”
Ryne brushes his thumb over the angry welt on my forehead and glances down at the ice pack at my side. He grabs my wrist and brings my hand up, placing the ice pack on the bump. “Ice won’t do you any good if you don’t use it,” he remarks dryly.
I scrunch my face up and stick my tongue out at him. “Guess it’s better to keep it covered with ice anyway.” I laugh quietly. “A red bump on my forehead doesn’t exactly do me any favors in the looks department. I don’t want to scare anyone away.”
I mean that as inhaha I look like a monster, I don't want to scare any kids, but from the way Ryne’s eyes narrow, he seems to take a very different meaning from my words. There’s a loud burst of noise behind us, and Ryne glances over my shoulder. A group of overly energetic campers walks past the end of the hallway, roughhousing on their way out to the field. Ryne grabs my other hand and drags me into the storage room. He slams the door shut behind us and presses me up against the wall. Boxed in by his hands on either side of my head, I hold my breath when his chest presses against mine lightly. Goosebumps shoot down my neck and arms when his lips graze my ear.
“I didn’t realize you were looking for other people tonotscare away while you’re here.” His voice is gritty, growly, and agitated.
I move the ice away from my head and glare right back at him when he pulls back and glares at me. “That isnotwhat I meant, Ryne. Don’t be an idiot.”
Wry humor flickers across his face and his lips jerk up on one side. I roll my eyes and shake my head. He doesn’t look one bit sorry. Honestly, man, come on. When Ryne bites his lip and stares down at mine, my irritation dissolves and my body relaxes again.
“I kinda wanna kiss you right now.”
“Only kinda want to?”
Ryne licks his lips and nudges my legs apart with his thigh. His eyes flit back up and lock with mine. “Oh, I definitely do.”
One of his hands drops from the wall and settles on my hip. My heart rate kicks up three hundred percent. “You should probably do that then.”
His fingers slip beneath my t-shirt and his warm palm slides around to my lower back. As he gently strokes, my eyelids get heavy and I blink a few times, feeling a little lust-drunk. I dip my free hand under his shirt too and let it wander around his stomach and over the ridges of his abs. Freaking Heaven on Earth. I’d like to take up residence in one of the valleys between the ridges. Just pop a squat and live there forever among all that hotness.
