2006, Camp Wawa, End of Week Two
“Finally, some sun . . . I was so sick of being cooped up inside.” Kyle kicks off his shoes and then wanders over to stand on the edge of the cliff and gaze out over the dark blue waters below. The early afternoon sun glimmers off the surface.
I’m not sure which has made the second week of camp harder—the three days of steady rain that forced indoor activities and caused cabin fever for everyone or our ten P.M. lockdown, thanks to our probation. On the plus side, I’m well rested.
“Hate to break it to you, but it’s supposed to storm later. At least, that’s what Christa said.” Though there is nothing more than a few wispy white clouds streaking the sky at the moment.
“And Christa’s never wrong about anything,” he murmurs sarcastically.
A speedboat races past, towing a female wakeboarder behind. Upon closer scrutiny, I realize it’s Claire, the waterskiing and wakeboarding instructor.
“She’s really good.”
Kyle watches her cut through the waves with ease, her muscular legs flexing. “She’s got some serious goals, that one. Wouldn’t be surprised to see her standing on a podium with a medal around her neck one day.”
I hesitate. “What about you?”
“I’m not much into waterskiing.” He reaches over his head to pull off his Wawa T-shirt, revealing two weeks’ worth of T-shirt tan lines and a smooth, sculpted back.
“No, I meant what are you going to do after high school? Like, do you have any colleges picked out?” Where will Kyle end up next year, and how far away will it be from me?
“Yeah . . . I don’t think college is for me.” He empties his pockets, casting their contents onto his favorite boulder.
“Really?” I frown. “So, then what will you do?” He must have a goal, something to work toward?
“Dunno? Get a job, I guess.”
“Doing what?” What interests you, Kyle? Besides jumping off cliffs and racing golf carts at night. In the two weeks that we’ve been here, aside from the topic of his family, our conversations have been light, shallow.
Fun.
But do we even have anything in common?
He shrugs. “Working here, maybe? I can take over Darian’s job.”
“Seriously?”
“Nah . . . Construction, maybe.”
“What, like running your own company?”
He chuckles. “More like hammering nails into boards. I don’t really care. I just want to get away from my shitty family. Except for Jeremy. He’s cool.” He nods, more to himself. “You’d like him.”
I quietly absorb his indifference to his future. Is it because he’s never been pushed to consider it? Or are things really that bad at home that he can’t think beyond the goal of getting away?
“What about you?” he asks with a yawn and a stretch, as if the topic is of little interest to him.
“Brown, probably. It’s the Calloway way,” I add in a mocking manner.
“Huh . . .” He frowns thoughtfully. “I probably shouldn’t follow the Miller way.” A wry smile curls his lips as he runs a hand through his Fauxhawk, sending it into disarray. He shifts his focus back to the cliff. “You coming in or what?”
I guess that’s the end of any serious talk with Kyle.
“Of course.” I shrug my clothes off, stripping down to the teal string bikini I threw on earlier. “So is there anything to do in town?”
“There’s a great burger place on Main Street. And sometimes you can catch a good . . .” Kyle’s words fall off the moment he turns, his eyes dragging over my bare skin feeling like fingertips. “Is that a new one?”
“No, but I haven’t worn it here yet.” I adjust the narrow triangles over my chest and test the string ties on my hips, to make sure they’re secure. I packed the bikini knowing it’s far too skimpy for anything besides tanning in private. And enticing Kyle, apparently. My stomach stirs with butterflies as I stand there, allowing him to look. I’ve never felt confident being ogled by boys, but with Kyle, I feel a pleasing shiver run through my body. “What were you saying? Something about catching a good . . .”
“Movie,” he answers after a long pause, his voice a touch huskier than normal. “At the drive-in.”
“A drive-in? Really? I’ve never been. What’s it like?”
“It’s fun. Maybe we can check it out tonight.” I catch the smile curling his lips before he turns back to the lake, and the rise of his shoulders with a deep breath.
And the way he covertly tugs at his board shorts, trying to adjust himself.
Heat rushes through my core.
Just the two of us, away from here, tucked into his car under the cover of night? Something tells me we wouldn’t be paying much attention to whatever’s on the screen.
“Nervous?”
My cheeks flush. “Huh?”
He nods toward the edge. “About jumping again.”
Oh. “No.” Actually, now that I consider the thirty-foot free fall into the lake, I realize that I am nervous. More so than the first time, when I had little time to think, when I had no experience to recall.
He looks over his shoulder at me and smirks, like he knows I’m lying, his gaze skating over my body a second time.
And then, with a boyish grin, he takes a running leap off the cliff.
Exhilaration swells in my chest as I rush to the edge to watch him resurface.
He wades to the side, his strokes strong and practiced. “Am I going to have to talk you into it again?” he hollers, and I hear the challenge in his voice.
Taking a deep breath, I step back and then charge forward, gripped by a sensation that’s both paralyzing and exhilarating as I plummet through the air. By the time my body emerges from the crisp water, a hysterical laugh—of accomplishment and ecstasy—takes over.
Until I realize the rush of water has forced my bikini top clean off me.
I yelp and cover my bare chest with one arm, while using the other to tread water. “Shit . . . my top!”
Kyle swims toward where I plunged in and dives under, only to pop up a few moments later, long enough to curse about murky water. He gathers a deep breath and then he’s gone again, swimming deeper into the abyss.
Treading water with one arm is difficult and I finally have to relent, releasing my hold of my chest to stay afloat, wondering just how murky the water is, how much Kyle can see from beneath. I have yet to strut around nude in front of him—or any guy, for that matter.
He bursts through the water’s surface with a gasp for air. “Sorry, it’s gone. It’s too deep here and I can’t see shit.”
“Well, this is going to be fun,” I mutter, eyeing the steep and rocky slope that I get to try to maneuver up, topless.
Kyle swims toward me, doing a poor job of hiding a secretive smile.
“Don’t look too upset.”
“Sorry. It’s just . . .” The small smile morphs into a wide grin. “I was wondering if that would happen.”
“And you didn’t think to warn me?”
“I did think about it.” He edges in closer, until our knees are bumping together. “And then I thought better of it.”
“You jerk.” I smack his chest playfully, before scanning the cliff top. “Where’s Eric?” Kyle seeing me topless is one thing. I’m not putting on a show for the other counselors.
“The last I saw, he was heading somewhere with Avery.” There’s a hint of bitterness in his voice.
“Is he into her?”
Kyle rolls his eyes. “Who the hell knows with him. They messed around last week.”
They must have done it in secret, because nothing stays quiet long in the counselor circle. So far, Colin’s been spotted making out behind the canteen with Jenny and, though no one can confirm they saw Marie and Carlos hooking up, the fact that they both developed a poison ivy rash all over their backs on the same day last week is highly suspicious.
I hesitate. “Is that weird for you?” If one of my close friends started dating Trevor after we broke up, that would probably bother me.
“Not the way you’re probably thinking. Eric’s not serious about Avery. He’s just biding his time until Ashley decides he isn’t a fool.” Kyle chuckles. “That might be a while. I tried to help him out last year by hinting to her that he was into her, and then he pulled the same kind of shit, and Ashley wouldn’t give him a chance the rest of the summer. If she hears about him hooking up with Avery, he’ll screw his chances up a second year.” Kyle shakes his head.
It dawns on me. “Aww . . . You’re a hopeless romantic!” I tease.
“Shut up.” Kyle grins. “Right now I’m a horny guy with a hot, topless girl in front of me.”
The fact that I’m so close to him and naked save for my scrap-of-a-bottom is not lost on me. Despite the cool temperature of the water, my entire body is flushing with warmth. If Kyle is affected, he’s not letting on; at ease in the water, his breath is even and calm.
“You good?” he asks, as if reading my mind.
“Yeah.”
He hesitates. “So . . . Shane is going home next Saturday, for the night. He only lives, like, an hour away and he wants to see his girlfriend.” Kyle pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and holds it a moment before releasing it, a shy smile touching his lips. “I’ll have my cabin to myself for the night. In case you wanted to hang out there with me.”
My stomach flutters as I grasp what he’s really asking.
“For a few hours . . . or the night.” He swallows hard. “Whatever you feel like—”
“Okay,” I blurt out, not even pretending to play coy. “I mean, as long as Darian’s not going to nail us for breaking probation.”
“She said we had to be in our cabins for lights-out with our campers. There are no campers on Saturday night.” He says it so innocently. “It’s our night off to do whatever we want.”
Except “whatever we want” means squeezed together in the twin bunk. The two of us in a bed together, alone, all night long.
My breathing has turned ragged. Meanwhile, Kyle’s breathing hasn’t even wavered.
“You’re a strong swimmer,” I murmur, needing to change the conversation to something less heart palpitation–inducing.
“I should hope so. I did a couple years on my school’s swim team.” He grins when my eyebrows arch with surprise. “What?”
“Nothing. Just picturing you rocking those little swim shorts and cap.”
“Are you mocking me?”
“Never.”
He laughs. “I was actually supposed to do the Red Cross lifeguard training program last year.” He tosses that scrap of personal information out so casually.
I seize it. “You totally should! It’s a great part-time job. I have a friend who’s a lifeguard. She makes good money. For a teenager, anyway.” Money she doesn’t need. She’s doing it for her college application.
“Yeah . . . It’s like two hundred for the course I was looking at.” Kyle’s gaze shifts away. “May as well be two thousand.”
Two hundred dollars. Less than the cost of the running shoes I bought for this summer. I didn’t even blink at setting my credit card on the counter for that purchase. I try to wrap my mind around the idea of not being able to afford something, and I can’t. I can’t recall a time those words have ever left my parents’ mouths.
“But you’ll make more than that working here this summer,” I push, keeping my voice light and hopeful.
“I need that money to make it through the year. Clothes and shit like that.” His tongue darts out to toy with his lip ring.
“Well, I can lend you the—”
“No, Piper.” His tone is sharp. He adds, more softly, “That’s nice of you to offer, but . . . no.”
Uncomfortable silence falls over us, and I’m desperate to push it away. “How do you tread water like that? I mean, without using your arms?”
His soft sigh skates across my cheek. “Easy. It’s called the rotary kick.”
“Teach me.” Anything to get the conversation away from how different our lives are.
A slight smirk curls his lips. “Keep your arms still and imagine your legs are an egg beater.”
I try to mimic Kyle, freezing my arms and kicking my legs how I’d imagine an egg beater would rotate.
I start to sink.
Kyle’s hands grip either side of my waist, pulling me back up. “Try again,” he coaxes, keeping hold of me this time, our knees knocking against each other’s intermittently.
It takes me a few minutes to get the hang of it. “ ’Kay, I think I’m doing it.”
“You are.” He smiles, but he doesn’t let go, pulling me in closer to kiss. I let my arms float on either side of me and I close my eyes, reveling in the feel of Kyle’s mouth against mine, in his shallow breaths, in the tip of his tongue as it first skates over the seam of my lips, and then into my mouth. He tastes like the spearmint gum he was chewing earlier, and not cigarettes. Though, if he did, I wouldn’t care.
Kyle’s hands begin to shift upward, ever so slowly, until his thumbs are nestled against the underside of my breasts. And then they’re on my breasts, tenderly, as if he’s memorizing their shape, his index fingers drawing small, teasing circles over my nipples.
I open my eyes, wondering if his are as full of lust as mine must be.
That’s when I notice the teal string floating atop the water behind him.
“My top!” I frown a second before realization hits me. My mouth drops open as I reach behind him, to find that he secured it through one of his belt loops. “Kyle!”
With an impish grin, he slips from my grasp and takes off swimming toward the alcove. I chase after him, yelling his name. It’s in vain, though; he’s much too fast for me.
When I round the corner, I find him sitting on the rocky plateau, leaning back and propped up by his elbows as if basking in the sun, his legs dangling over the edge.
He grins at me, holding out my top. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”
I yank it from his grasp and attempt to put it back on, quickly abandoning the idea. It’s too hard while treading water.
Kyle smirks, like he knows it. “I won’t look. Promise.” He rolls over to lie on his stomach, facing away from me.
I hoist myself onto the ledge. The rock is almost too hot to the touch. It would be a nice place to relax and rid myself of these hideous T-shirt tan lines. A nice, quiet, private place to linger that can’t be seen from the expanse of lake.
“You’re not mad at me, are you?” He reaches for a loose stone nearby, to twirl it within his grasp.
“No,” I admit. I enjoyed every second of that moment when he was touching me so intimately.
In truth, I wish it hadn’t ended.
“Tell me when you’re good.” He has kept his word, his gaze still on the crop of bushes beyond.
A rash of butterflies explodes in my stomach as I commit myself to my decision. Splashing the hot-to-the-touch rock with handfuls of water to cool it down, I stretch out onto my back and shield my eyes against the blinding sun, leaving my top resting next to my head. “Okay.”
With a sigh, he moves to roll back. “I was thinking we should—” His words cut off, his mouth falling agape as it skates over my near-naked body.
“I have these horrible tan lines that I need to get rid of,” I explain casually, closing my eyes and settling my arm down beside me.
Kyle clears his throat. “Right.”
I can feel his heavy gaze touching my body, and each second that passes makes me crave for his hands to be on me again.
“Did you put on sunscreen?”
Shit. I groan. “No. And my bottle is all the way up—”
“I’ll get it.”
“You don’t have . . .” My voice trails. He’s already on his feet, nimbly picking his path up the treacherous hill.
I’m going to need Kyle’s help coating my back, I think with a smile, imagining his hands smoothing all over my body, along every inch of exposed skin.
By the time the loud splash sounds a few minutes later—Kyle, leaping off the cliff again—my body is aching with need.
Kyle swims around the bend and pulls himself back onto the rock, my tube of sunscreen firmly gripped in his hand. Droplets of water land on my skin as he shifts closer to me. “Here, roll over,” he murmurs as he tries to catch his breath, his eyes skittering over my chest and stomach.
I do, carefully, so as not to scrape my skin against the jagged edges of rock, and rest my chin atop folded arms, silently reveling in the feel of the cool gobs of sunscreen landing on my back.
“You sure ran up the hill fast.” His first touch draws a small gasp from my lips.
“Yeah, I guess I just really wanted to jump again.”
I smile to myself. “Right. Jump.”
He chuckles softly.
We fall into a comfortable silence as his hands smooth over my shoulders and down my sides in long, languid strokes, until my entire back is covered. Only he doesn’t stop there. He squeezes another dollop onto the back of each thigh and covers the full length of my legs, all the way from my ankles to the edge of my bikini bottoms, his fingertips sliding down over my inner thighs, teasing me, never venturing where I want them to, making the mild ache between my legs morph into a needy throb.
“Your back is done,” he announces, his voice low and gravelly.
“Do you mind doing the rest?” I roll over, squinting against the sun as I peer up to admire his stunning features.
He licks his lips as his eyes trail the length of my body. Finally he shakes his head and wordlessly squeezes a glob onto my belly button.
I suck in my stomach from the chill, and he chuckles. He begins smoothing the sunscreen over my abdomen, his strokes even slower than before, his face taking on an odd, somber expression.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing at all. You’re just . . . perfect,” he murmurs, shifting his hand upward, over my breasts, his palm cupping each one, the soft pad of his thumb circling over my nipples a few times. “I still can’t believe you’re here with me. I’m the luckiest guy in the world right now.”
I reach out to drag my fingers against his thigh. “I’m the lucky one.”
“You have no clue . . .” He shakes his head as he shifts his focus, stretching to reach my ankles before moving all the way up each leg, his hands firm and confident. And, once again, he teases me mercilessly, his fingers sliding provocatively as he coats my inner thighs.
I shift my legs apart, just enough that he’ll hopefully take the hint.
He definitely notices because his mouth parts and his gaze shifts to meet mine, allowing me to admire the green-and-gold kaleidoscope of his irises.
Finally, Kyle stretches out to lie beside me, propping himself up on one elbow. “You’re all covered,” he whispers, leaning in to press a kiss against my cheek, his free hand resting on my stomach.
I turn to meet him face-to-face, our noses grazing. “I guess I should do you now?”
He groans and I laugh, angling my head so I can get better access to his lip ring. I flick it with my tongue.
The hand resting on my stomach slides down over my belly, until his fingers are tracing the top seam of my bikini bottoms, making my blood race and heat pool between my legs. Shifting so that he’s hovering over me, blocking out the sun from my eyes, he whispers, “You good?”
I hesitate, reaching up to cup his jaw, my thumb dragging over the light stubble. “I could be better.”
A sexy smirk curls his lips as he leans down to give me one of his signature tantalizing kisses. He breaks free long enough to show me his hooded eyes—and maybe to triple-check what I want in mine—before his fingers are slipping beneath the material, and lower.
A slight gasp escapes my lips as I settle my hand on his shoulder and my legs part of their own accord.
Kyle curses under his breath. “God, you’re so . . .” His voice trails with a hard swallow, and then he’s deepening his kiss as his fingers slip inside me.
I let Trevor venture into my pants only three times while we dated and one of those times, I was drunk. While I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it, it always seemed like he was marking off a box in the foreplay checklist, with the sole purpose of reaching an end result that got him what he wanted. It was all hot hands and fumbling fingers, and never lasted more than a minute before he’d be whispering what he’d rather be doing to me and begging me to unfasten his jeans.
It was all about him.
But not Kyle. He’s in no rush, and he is so far from a fool groping toward the home plate, his thumb dragging over me in soft circles, each stroke bringing me closer to an edge I’ve never gone over with anyone.
Our ragged breaths mix as his hand works over me, my legs falling farther apart, my inhibitions drifting higher away as my body chases a climax I want so badly to experience with him.
And then a bellow of “Freedom!” carries from somewhere above.
I shut my legs on Kyle’s hand and sit up in an instant, the heat of the moment effectively doused just as a loud splash sounds.
A second scream—that of a girl—echoes through the bay as Kyle is slipping his hand from me. Another splash sounds.
I fumble with my top, tying the neck and adjusting the front before the intruders venture this way.
Beside me Kyle lies sprawled on his back, his arms thrown over his face. “I’m gonna kill him,” he mutters.
Maybe it’s a good thing we were interrupted, I think to myself, as I steal a glance downward, to where his clingy—still wet—bathing shorts leave little to the imagination. The sight drives my need for him, my fingers itching to slip beneath his waistband.
It’s only been two weeks and I’m ready to give it all up to Kyle on a hidden rocky plateau in broad daylight. There’s no rush, I remind myself. We still have six more weeks together. And we have next Saturday night, when we don’t have to worry about anyone invading our privacy.
The ache in my body flares with the thought of what might happen.
For now, though, I settle on dragging my index finger along the thin trail of hair below his belly button in a teasing manner. Checking over my shoulder to make sure Eric isn’t in sight yet, I smooth my hand over his hard length, gripping him with my fingers.
“Your turn.”
“What?” He lifts his arms to peer at me. “Now? Seriously?” His eyebrows are furrowed with doubt, but I don’t miss the heat beginning to flare in them again.
I lift up the bottle of sunscreen. “Before you burn.”
His arms fall back over his face with a loud groan.
End of Week Three
“I haven’t received any more calls from your mother, so I assume you’re staying out of trouble?”
My dad’s voice always sounds especially clipped over the phone. I hate talking to him on the phone because of it.
“No trouble.”
“Good. I’m glad to see you finally taking your job seriously.”
I roll my eyes.
“Today’s your day off, right?”
“Yeah.” We saw our third round of campers off earlier. The third week played out much like the last two—tears and amateur gimp bracelets and promises of a reunion next year.
“And where are you now?”
“Just in town, grabbing dinner.” Standing next to Kyle’s car in the parking lot of Tony’s Burgers.
“With who?”
My eyes drift to the green neon sign ahead, and then to the table where Kyle, Eric, and Ashley sit, laughing and picking away at their plates. “Ashley and Christa.” It’s only half a lie.
“Who drove?”
“Christa.” Outright lie. Surprisingly, it rolls off my tongue without issue. It’s been two weeks since my father delivered his edict that I am to stay away from Kyle and, thankfully due to his business trip to Japan and my lack of cell phone reception, I’ve been able to avoid lying to him up until now. The fact that I even have to makes my stomach roil.
“Good. I’m relieved to hear that. I did some checking up on that boy you were with. Did you know his father and brothers are currently serving time in federal prison?”
“What?”
“Of course the little delinquent didn’t tell you,” he mutters. “His father’s a guard, my ass.”
He assumes my outburst was shock, and not outrage. I temper the accusation in my voice. “How’d you find that out?”
“I had my guy run the license plate off his car.” He admits it so casually, as if that’s a normal thing. “I had a bad feeling about him and, as usual, my gut was right. Those plates aren’t even valid.”
“I just . . . can’t . . .” I grit my teeth as tears of frustration threaten to spill. I can’t believe you would do that.
Kyle glances out the window then. He sees my face and frowns. Are you okay? he mouths.
I force a smile and nod, before turning away.
“Did you tell him who we are? Who I am?” my father asks.
“No. No one knows.” That, I can answer truthfully.
“Good. Because if he’s anything like his father, he’ll be trying to extort money from us before long. I have half a mind to call that camp director and report him.”
“Don’t! I mean . . .” I scramble to think of something to dissuade him, without letting on that I’ve ignored my father’s iron-willed wishes and am still very much with Kyle. In fact, I’ll be with Kyle all night tonight, if all goes as planned. His roommate, Shane, drove off right after Darian’s weekly star award meeting. “The kids like him, and he’s been staying away from me so far. Plus, if what you found out is true, then I’m sure he needs the money. At least he’s coming by it honestly.”
“Hmm . . . You’re right. Perhaps I’m too jaded.” He sighs heavily. “But you don’t get to where I am without dealing with your share of scammers and extortionists. I’ve been facing those kinds of people all my life. I’m not about to have my teenage daughter get taken advantage of by some punk.”
Because there’s no other reason why Kyle would want to be with me, right, Dad?
I could defend Kyle’s honor, but there’s no point. My father’s already made up his mind about him, and clearly the power of money comes before the heart. I swallow the bitter taste in my mouth. “Don’t worry, he’s already moved on to another girl,” I add, piling on the lies.
“Not surprised. A guy like him wouldn’t have any idea how lucky he is to earn a second of attention from you.”
I’m the luckiest guy in the world right now.
Oh, he knows, Dad. I feel the vindictive smile curl my lips. And he’s going to know a whole lot more after tonight.
“Just keep details about our family to yourself and if he tries anything, you call me right away. I’ll deal with him.”
“I will. Thanks, Dad. Love you.” My voice comes out cold and hard.
“Love you, too. See you in five weeks, is it?”
“Yup.” I end the call.
“So who am I with now? Please tell me it’s the Gasoline Queen.”
I spin around to find Kyle standing behind me.
He gives me a sheepish grin. “Sorry . . . I saw your face and I was worried, so I came out. Didn’t mean to listen in.”
“It’s okay.”
He slides his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Everything all right with your dad?”
“Yeah, just . . . It’s nothing.”
He hesitates. “But you were talking about us.”
I sigh. Kyle is the one person I don’t want to lie to. “My dad is intense,” I begin.
His eyebrow arches knowingly. “Yeah, I got that.”
“He ran your license plate. Or he had his guy do it, anyway.”
Kyle’s head falls back with a groan. “My brother’s name would have come up.”
“It did, and now he knows about him, and your other brother. And your dad . . .”
Kyle curses under his breath. “I have to say, he brings new meaning to the word overprotective.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t think he’d do something like that, either. But you don’t know him. You don’t know who he is.” I hesitate, my father’s voice ringing in my ear, explicitly warning me not to do what I’m about to do. “My father is—”
“Don’t.” Kyle’s hands go up in the air, stopping me. “I don’t want to know, Piper. Seriously. Look, I’m not clueless; I’m not gonna pretend that I am. But I like that it’s just been you and me here, not your rich parents or my shitty ones. We’ve been just us, together. And it’s worked.” His brow wrinkles, an earnest—almost pleading—look filling his eyes. “Can we please just keep it like that?”
I nod. “Yeah. For sure.” My father is so wrong about Kyle.
“Good.” He reaches for me, taking both my hands into his, pulling me closer. “I don’t care if your dad is a freaking king of some remote country.”
I laugh. “He’s not a king—”
Kyle stops my words with a kiss. “I told you. I don’t want to know. Now, can you please come inside and distract me from Eric’s disgusting peanut butter burger?”
I cringe. “You’re kidding.”
Kyle gives me a flat look. “I wish.”
The sun is minutes from dropping below the horizon when we pull into Wawa’s parking lot.
Eric groans as he climbs out of the backseat of Kyle’s car, capping it off with an exaggerated stretch, the grease-coated paper bag from Tony’s that holds a second peanut-butter-and-bacon burger dangling from his fingertips. “It’s a freaking ghost town around here,” he murmurs, surveying the silent campground. Several of the counselors have taken off for the night—either to go home or elsewhere, needing an escape from Wawa after three weeks straight. The rest are in hiding. Likely sleeping.
“I think Wade said he was going to start up a fire by the lake.” Ashley scoops her frizzy hair into a ponytail and secures it with an elastic.
“Good. Come on, Freckles.” Eric hooks an arm around her neck and leads her toward the gravel path that will take them to the beach. “Meet you guys there?”
Kyle’s eyes graze over mine. “Yeah. In a bit.”
“Oh, right. Shane’s gone tonight. Gotcha. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Eric tosses over his shoulder.
Meanwhile Ashley grins mischievously at me, giving me a thumbs-up sign.
My cheeks begin to burn. Great. Everyone will have heard about this by the morning.
“Don’t forget, you’re still on probation,” Kyle throws back.
Eric waves it away. “It’s Saturday! No curfew tonight!”
Kyle sighs, passing me the bag of snacks I picked up at the local grocery store at a fraction of the price of the canteen, before pulling me into his arms. “You need anything at your cabin first?”
“Nope.”
He leans down to set his forehead against mine. “So . . . you want to head to mine, then?” he asks softly.
It’s been a week of heated glances and teasing touches while in passing. A week of ten o’clock curfews and restless nights, anticipating tonight.
I smile. “Yes. Definitely.”
Kyle is quiet as he leads me to the boys’ cabins. The boys’ and girls’ sides are virtually identical—a cluster of ten small brown rectangular buildings set beneath a canopy of leggy evergreens and elm trees, with a separate shower and restroom off to one side.
By the time we reach the one marked “Seventeen” and he guides me inside, my stomach is a twisted mess of nerves.
“Same as yours, right?”
“Pretty much.” Musty air that’s ten degrees hotter than outside, low ceiling, six sets of bunk beds, ink-covered walls where campers have scribbled their name to memorialize their attendance, the tacky orange-and-brown floral curtains . . . Check, check, check. Except . . . My nose crinkles. “It smells like dirty, wet socks?”
“Believe me, it has smelled a lot worse.” Kyle chuckles, tugging the curtains back and sliding open both windows all the way. “Sorry, I should have done that before we left.”
I wander over to the only bed with a pillow and sleeping bag on it. The bag has been unzipped and stretched out to cover the thin, single mattress, the end dangling off to graze the worn wood floor. I gingerly take a seat on the edge, my hand smoothing over the soft blue-and-red flannel interior. “This is you?”
“That’s me,” he murmurs softly.
Our eyes meet and lock.
“You good?” he asks.
“Yeah, why?”
“Nothing. Just . . . you’ve been acting weird since that phone call with your dad.” Kyle kicks off his shoes. “Thought maybe you were worried about pissing him off.”
“No. I’m not. He doesn’t get to decide who I’m with.” I set my jaw stubbornly, as if the small act of defiance gives weight to my declaration.
Kyle opens his mouth to answer but decides against it, instead tugging his wallet out of his back pocket, to toss onto the floor below his pillow.
Does he have a condom in there, I wonder?
I didn’t even think to ask about getting one.
My heart begins to race with the thought of what we’re about to do.
Am I really ready for this? We’ve kissed, a lot. We’ve fooled around, a bit.
Branches snap just outside and then a moment later Colin’s face pops up in front of the window. “Hey, Miller, you comin’ out to—” He cuts off when he sees me sitting on the bed. “Oh. Never mind. See you guys later.” With that, he’s gone, whistling to himself.
Kyle shakes his head. “Would people leave us alone for just one night?”
“It’s hard being so popular.”
“It is.” He drags the curtain closed and smacks the light switch, throwing us into darkness, save for the safety nightlight that each cabin has near the door. “There. Hopefully they’ll think I’m already out.”
I can just make out his outline as he strolls over to take a seat next to me, the rustic wood frame giving nothing under our combined weight.
He grazes my cheek with the backs of his knuckles. “This night is all I’ve been able to think about, all week long.”
“Me, too,” I admit, shifting to pull my leg up so I’m facing him.
Only he’s already moving with me, guiding me backward. The next thing I know, I’m on my back and Kyle is lying next to me, pressed up against my side, his fingers trailing along my collarbone.
How many times has he been with a girl before? We haven’t even talked about that. Shouldn’t we talk about that first?
I gather my nerve. “How many times have you done this?”
“Done what?” He says it so innocently.
I roll my eyes. “How many girls have you been with?”
“Do you mean—”
“Yeah.”
He doesn’t answer right away and I start to think he’s formulating a lie. But Kyle doesn’t seem the type to lie about how many girls he’s slept with. So he must be busy counting them all in his head. “Oh my God,” I mutter. “Don’t tell me—”
“Two.”
“Seriously.”
“Seriously. Two.”
“Who?”
He groans, like he doesn’t want to answer. “First was this girl Shannon, when I was fourteen. My brothers threw a party at our place while Mom was away and she was there. She was a couple years older. Never saw her again.” He pauses. “And then Avery, last summer.”
So they did sleep together.
My jealous flares, and that cynical voice creeps into my subconscious, wondering if I’m just the 2006 version of Kyle’s 2005 summer camp experience, if his summer itinerary would read the same—cliff jumping and golf-cart racing and cabin-sleeping—except with a different female lead.
“You’re nothing like her. This is nothing like last summer,” Kyle says, as if reading my mind. He leans in to fit his face into the crook of my neck. Hot, wet lips graze my skin.
I close my eyes, reveling in the feel. “How is it different?”
“Because I didn’t feel this way about her.”
“What way?” I push, because I need to hear him say it.
“Like I’m already doing the math on how much gas will cost to get from Poughkeepsie to Lennox when the summer’s over. And I’m wondering how much I can set aside in phone cards so I can text you.”
“I’ll send you cards,” I rush to say, my heart swelling as I shift onto my side so I’m facing him, our noses pressed together. “And I’m getting a car in the fall, so I can come out to see you, too. Every weekend. Or almost every weekend. I don’t know. I’ll try.”
“Your parents are going to let you do that?”
I burrow in closer, until we’re touching from our noses all the way to our toes and my arm is curled around him. “I don’t care. I’m coming.”
He presses his lips to mine. “I’m crazy about you, Piper.”
“I’m so crazy about you, Kyle.” I think I’m in love with you. The words are there, on the tip of my tongue, wanting to leap off.
He reaches up to stroke my hair off my face. “We’re not going to let things go too far tonight.”
“We’re not?”
“No. Shane said he’s going home next Saturday, too. There’s no rush, and I want you to want to.”
“I do want to,” I’m quick to say.
Kyle smiles softly. “I want you to be totally ready.”
I can’t answer as quickly. Maybe because I know I’m trying to convince myself more than him. I do want to be with Kyle but maybe I need more time. The fact that my body relaxed the second he said that confirms it.
It has only been three weeks. Three of the best weeks of my life, but still, only three weeks.
“So what are we going to do, then?”
“I was thinking we could start with this . . .” He gently pushes my shoulder until I’m lying on my back again and then leans over to press his mouth against mine, his tongue sliding over the seam of my lips until I allow him in.
I could get lost in Kyle’s mouth for days, the way he kisses—with such focus, as if he’d be satisfied going no farther—intoxicating.
And at the same time frustrating, as my body begins to ache for more.
“Can we pick up where we left off last Saturday?” I hear myself ask.
He answers by working my T-shirt up over my stomach, over my chest. I lift my arms to help him slide it over my head. He’s yanking his shirt off seconds after, tossing it in a heap on the floor.
I’m more excited than nervous as I reach up to push the clasp in the front of my powder-blue lace bra. It pops open and Kyle makes a soft sound.
“Wear more of this kind,” he murmurs, lowering his mouth over a nipple, the warmth of his mouth sending shivers down my stomach.
Steeling my nerve, I unfasten my shorts and work them down over my hips and legs, shaking them off my ankles.
Kyle’s breath catches as he peers down to regard my powder-blue panties. “Have I ever told you that I have a thing for matching underwear?”
I giggle. “No.”
“I do.” He shifts back to my mouth, to smile against it as his hand travels down over my abdomen, slipping beneath the elastic band. “Anything you want, I’ll do it.” His lips press against mine at the same time that his fingers skate over me, pulling a gasp from my lungs.
This time, there is no loud camp director shouting at us.
No annoying friend jumping off the cliff.
Nothing to interrupt me from experiencing my first time falling apart beneath a boy’s touch.
And when my ragged breathing has subsided, when I’ve come down from the clouds to Kyle’s mouth pressed against my neck, I reach over, gingerly unfasten his zipper, and push his shorts down over his hips.
And I return the favor.
