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She bounces on her heels in front of me as she flutters her eyelashes. “Have any plans for later tonight?”
She’s cute. Dark hair, deep brown eyes, a nice soft waist that leads to a nice-looking ass. I’d totally be all over her if it weren’t for the fact that I feel like dying on the spot.
And…
I shake my head as I lift my shirt to wipe some sweat off my upper lip. “Sleeping off this day sounds nice.”
“You should come to the party we’re having,” she says, laughing as if I’ve said something hilarious.
“Party?”
“Yeah. Nicky snuck some booze in from town.” When she takes in my slightly startled expression, she snorts. "What? Did you think we were all goody-two-shoes like Kendall?”
I ignore the subtle jab at Kendall and consider it. Despite feeling like my legs are going to fall off, kicking back and letting loose sounds nice. If they have booze, and I have weed, that’s a nice combo to end the day. “I guess. Where’s it at?”
“On the other side of the lake. Just take the path that winds around the lake and veer left when you see the rock shaped like a dick.” She stops and grabs onto my wrist. “Oh, and don’t tell Kendall about this.”
I tip my head to the side. “Why?”
She rolls her eyes as if it’s obvious before scoffing. “Because she’s the bunk leader, and she’ll rat us out to her perfect Mr. Walker. You have to wait until she does her bunk checks and then you can go.”
Yeah, Kendall would totally try and stop me. I like the girl, but she can be a bit heavy-handed with her responsibilities. “Alright. I’m in.”
“Awesome! I’ll see you then,” Grace says, and I don’t miss the way she winks at me before skipping away toward her giggling friends.
I chuckle lightly at myself as I trudge up the stairs to my bunk, kicking the door open weakly with my foot. I resist the urge to just collapse on my bed when Patrick comes in. And he, just like everyone else apparently, looks fine.
“Hey, man. What’s up?” I ask him as I peel off my shirt and toss it in the dirty hamper we keep by our bunk beds.
He blushes as he eyes me, his eyes flickering up and down my figure before they land on the ceiling. He shrugs and climbs up the ladder to his bed. “Nothing. I’m thinking I’m going to just read and turn in early tonight.”
“Want a change of scenery?” I suggest. “There’s a party on the other side of the lake.”
“Oh…” he says, scrunching up his nose as he reaches for his book. “Those.”
I stop halfway through pulling down my pants. “You mean you know about them?”
“Everyone does, well, not Kendall,” he corrects himself. “Grace always organizes a couple every summer.”
“Have you ever been?”
“I’ve actually never been invited,” he murmurs, chewing on his bottom lip as he fingers a random page in his book. It doesn’t surprise me that no one’s ever invited him. Patrick’s wound up so tight that he always looks like he’s two seconds away from snapping.
“Fuck that. I’m inviting you,” I say, and then I add. “If you want to go, that is.”
There’s a tentative smile on his lips as he considers it. After a moment, he puts down his book and nods. “Um, yeah. It sounds like fun?”
I chuckle at hisincredibleenthusiasm and grab a towel, my shower shoes, and my shower caddy. “Okay. I’m gonna hit the showers and then we can wait for Kendall to check in before we go.”
He nods. “Okay.”
I up nod at him before leaving the bunk. The showers are kept about a three-minute walk away from where we sleep. It’s the most rustic-looking shower I’ve ever been in. It’s just a few wooden stalls with curtains for privacy. I hook my towel on the rack beside the curtain and step in. The water is ice cold when I turn it on, and it takes longer than I like for it to turn into some sort of lukewarm spray. I set my shower caddy on the floor and root through my products, shampooing and conditioning my hair quickly because the warm water is sure to not last.
It's when I get to the body wash that the urge to wrap my hand around my dick resurfaces. I’ve been sporting a semi for most of the day, still caught up in my earlier exchange with Jarred. Although he was skittish and although he was unsure, he was so fucking turned on.
He looked so adorable—a big strong man weak in the knees for me—and it got to me in a way I hadn’t expected. I didn’t kiss him, didn’t even touch him really, but the slightest contact we had left my skin burning pleasantly. The air was so erotically charged, so sticky with hot tension, and my cock remembers it all too well.
I give myself a few tugs and decide to let off some steam. This place is the only area in the camp where we get even a semblance of privacy, flimsy curtain aside.
