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His eyes—damn near the same color as said shirt—lock with mine for a brief moment before I shift my attention back to Colin.
“Ah, perfect timing as always, Kal,” he says, motioning for him to enter.
Bile works its way into my mouth, my eyes sinking closed while sending up a silent prayer to any God who might listen that all these pieces snapping together are only a nightmare. But even without opening my eyes, I know it’s my reality.
Kal…as in Kaleb.
The same guy who I’ll be spending the entire summer working with.
Fuck.
2
KALEB
The pulse hammering in my throat hasn’t lessened since the moment I walked into Colin’s office to show the new summer counselor around the grounds, only to find Avery Reynolds sitting in the chair across from him.
Not while I ask Colin what the hell is going on. Not while I listen to him explain that Avery is the new counselor on staff this season. Not when he explains how Avery is going to be assigned to the same group of kids as me for the summer, so I can show him the ropes.
Even as I slip out of Colin’s office with Avery on my tail, I can still feel the thrum of blood rushing beneath my skin. It floods me with a scalding heat that rivals the sun’s. Hot enough, even the cool mountain breeze can’t seem to temper it.
Awkward silence creates a toxic fog between us, and even in the open air on this gorgeous June day, it’s stifling. And though I wouldn’t have thought it possible, it only gets worse the second Avery tries to break the ice as we head down the steps.
“So…it’s a small world.”
It is, and his presence here is making it smaller and smaller by the second. Which is why I have no intention of engaging in any bullshit small-talk with him. Or any kind of talking, for that matter. Around the kids and for my job’s sake? Sure, I’ll play nice. But I’m planning to make sure any and all encounters besides those required of us are kept to a minimum.
It’s the only way this will work.
“Let’s not.”
He doesn’t take the hint.
“Kaleb. I—”
“The grounds are set up in something of a half circle,” I start, cutting in before he has a chance to finish his thought. I don’t wanna hear anything he has to say.
We pass by the bathhouse, which is directly beside the main lodge, and I continue explaining the layout of the camp. “You’ve already seen the lodge. Offices and housing for administration, bathrooms, laundry facilities, and the cafeteria are all in or directly behind it. And then all the cabins for both campers and counselors run down six paths that radiate in an arc from the center of the complex.”
Rather than try explaining it again if he’s confused, I stop at the activities board near the bottom of the steps and rip one of the maps off. I press it into his chest—the heat in my veins shifting to straight up boiling levels when I feel the hardness of his pecs beneath my palm—before turning away.
“At least there’s indoor plumbing,” he says while folding the map and tucking it into the pocket of his jeans.
I don’t answer, instead leading Avery down the third path from the left—where all the cabins for the eleven-year-olds are located—that winds between the firs and hemlocks. Silent prayers for peace and tranquility are sent into the universe, and all I can do now is hope they’re answered. Or maybe being immersed in nature can bring those things to me. Otherwise I very well might lose my fucking shit on of this guy.
“Counselors have their own cabins. It’s set up so there’s one on either end of the path. I’ll be on the end closest to the center of the complex; you’ll be set up on the far end.”
“So I’m the one eaten by bears first,” he deadpans from behind me.
“We can only hope,” I mutter under my breath.
The cabin layouts might be the only fortunate part of this entire situation. The small amount of added distance between his sleeping location and mine should make it easy enough to avoid him during my downtime at the very least.
I chance a glance over at him to find dread and discomfort written all over his chiseled face. Anxiety etched into those piercing blue eyes, the same color of the sky on a clear day.
Even out of his element, Avery’s still able to hold onto that conventionally attractive rich-boy swagger he has. Much to my displeasure. I’m sure he smooth-talked his way right into Colin’s good graces too. He’s just got that air about him. Always saying the right thing at the right time, oozing charm and charisma at every turn.
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t fallen victim to it my first couple years at Foltyn too, back when I was still doing my best to find new friends and fit into the team. But what I failed to realize is that being teammates doesn’t automatically equate to friendship, and even with countless conversations over our seasons together on the same team, I can count on one hand all the things I know about him. Because everything was surface level. No substance to it.
