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It was just one kiss. Onehot,steamykiss but a kiss, nonetheless. I realized two seconds after I had kissed him that it had been a mistake. I had no right to approach him like that or even suggest giving him mouth-to-mouth. I had been so stupid and so reckless. That interaction revolved around what I wanted, and I hadn’t even considered that he wouldn’t want the same thing.
I itch for a cigarette as I finish up the tour and jut my thumb at the bunks behind me. “Okay, here it is. Boys in Bunk Four and girls in Bunk Five. Lunch is in an hour. Lights out at nine. Don’t annoy me and I won’t bug you.”
I go to leave the slightly confused campers, but one of them decides to jump in front of me at the last second. He’s tiny, maybe around thirteen years old, and he reminds me of Patrick with his oversized glasses and his even more oversized shirt. “Um, Noah?”
I raise my pierced brow at him and decide, fuck it, I’ll have a cigarette. “Yes…?”
“Ian,” he says. His eyes widen when he sees me light my cigarette, but they snap back to me a second later. “My name is Ian.”
“Okay, what’s up, Ian?”
He shifts from one foot to another and chews on his bottom lip. “Can I call my parents?”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I don’t want to deal with a kid who’s getting cold feet at the very last second. “We don’t have landlines available to the campers, just mail,” I drone, playing back Kendall’s earlier instructions on what to say in this situation. “You’ll have to write them a letter.”
He stutters a response, pushing his crooked glasses up the bridge of his nose. “But—”
“Anything else?” I snap, taking a deep drag of both my cigarette and relief as he shakes his head. “Awesome.”
I leave the campers behind in a huff as I walk back in the direction of my bunk. I have an hour of free time before I’m supposed to be supervising lunch, and I need a fucking joint. I already have my mind set on jogging down to the dock for a quick toke until I spot something in the corner of my eye.
Jarred.
He’s on his own, diligently checking off the list on his clipboard as he heads into one of the storage huts just on the edge of the woods. His back is hunched over tight and he’s not even looking where he’s going as he enters the hut.
This is my shot. I just need to clear the air with him. If I have to spend three months in this fucking hell hole, I’m not doing it with this weird energy between us. We’re both adults—albeit he’s more of an adult than I am—and we can move past this. I give a quick check over my shoulder as I run up to the hut, checking to see if anybody has noticed me, and slip in undetected.
“Hey.”
Jarred has his back to me and his head whips around at the sound of my voice. He drops his clipboard as his cheeks flame pink and his mouth drops open. He gathers his bearings quickly and bends down to retrieve his clipboard, all the while hissing at me. “What are you doing here? Someone will see you.”
“Talking to my boss?” I question sarcastically, reaching down when I see he hasn’t picked up his pen. “No one’s going to say shit.”
I hand him his pen, but he doesn’t thank me. Instead, he takes one large step back and his panicked eyes look over my shoulder. “You should go.”
“We need to talk about what happened.”
“Nothing happened.”
“You know that’s not true.” I sigh. “That kiss—”
He shakes his head and turns his back on me again, checking some supplies on the shelf in front of us. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You can’t just ignore it and pretend like it didn’t happen. Don’t be—” I cut myself off and take off my beanie, running my hands through my hair in frustration. I take a deep breath and reach out to touch his shoulder. “Look, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. If you want me to back off, I’ll back off.”
Under my touch, I can feel the muscles in his taut back quiver. The shaky sound of his clipboard hitting the metal rack rings loud in the small space as his hands tremble. “It’s…”
“What?” I whisper and, emboldened by his body’s response to me, take a step forward.
He turns around slowly and watches my hands as they drop to my side. He doesn’t look up at me as he licks his lip, his chest heaving up and down with strain. “It’s not about…wanting it.”
So, he did want me. I was right. I didn’t just attack him without him wanting it too. Although this should make me happy and relieved, it does nothing to quell the nagging guilt in my mind. He might have wanted it, but he regrets it. That might be just as bad as not wanting it at all.
I can’t even imagine what’s going on in his brain. I can’t picture what he must be feeling. He’s obviously catholic to the max—the camp he set up demonstrates that—and he must be confused about what happened between us. I don’t want to add to that confusion despite how badly I want him.
“It was just a kiss, Jarred. A hot, sexy ass, mouthwatering kiss, but a kiss,” I say, trying to reassure him. “We can pretend like it never happened after today.”
He looks up at me and gulps audibly, nodding. “I think that would be for the best. It was a mistake, and it shouldn’t have happened. It was…it waswrong.”
