I glare at him a moment longer, and he shrugs. "Have it your way." Turning away from me, he reaches for the waistband of his shorts and shoves them down, giving me a front-row view of his perfectly muscled bare ass.
"What the hell!" I yell and spin, covering both eyes.
"I told you I needed to change. I have work to do.”
"You're such an asshole!" I yell back and step into the hall, slamming the door behind me. But no matter how thick the solid wood between us, I can't get the image of his bare ass out of my head. And damn, what an ass it is.
With an angry sigh, I grab my suitcase and march down the hall toward the spare room. It looks just like I remembered it, two twin beds up against each wall, a nightstand in the center. There's a smaller dresser in here, so I set my suitcase on top of it and check my watch. Five-fifty-five, and I’ve already seen a nearly naked man and had my blood pressure skyrocket.
Roommates. So, not only do I have to share the camp with him but a house too? Dad had to know he was staying out here. Thought in my head, I reach into my purse and grab my cell, hitting Judson’s number.
“Hello?” His sleepy voice fills my ear.
“Did you know Dean is living at the camp?” I ask, and Judson groans.
“Come on, Kleo. Can’t you wait until after nine to bitch? What are you doing up anyway?”
“I told you I was getting an early start.”
“It’s not even light outside.”
“Did you know?” I ask again.
“Yes. He’s been living there for two years. We all knew it.”
“I’m going to rip Dad a new one.”
“Why?”
“He told me I could stay in the main cabin this summer.”
“But that’s where—” He trails off, chuckling. “That’s some good stuff right there. You have yourself a new roomie.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I demand. “I told you last night I was staying here.”
“No, you didn’t. You texted me and said Dean wouldn’t know what hit him and that you were going to the camp first thing.”
“Are you sure? I’m pretty damned positive I told you.”
“Nope. Though, I probably wouldn’t have warned you either.”
“What the hell, Judson.”
“So much more fun this way.”
“You’re an ass.”
“An ass who’s going back to sleep. Have fun.” He ends the call, and I toss my phone onto the bed. The way I see it, I have two choices. One, I could call my dad, bitch him out, tell him how pissed I am that he failed to mention my new roommate. Or two, I can suck it up, pretend it’s not a big deal, and show him that I really can run this place. Option number two seems like the safest route.
Looking up at the mirror over the dresser, I sigh. “It's going to be a great day," I promise myself. "You've got this, Kleo Turner." After adjusting the hem of my Camp Turner T-shirt boasting two large palm trees and a lighthouse, I fix the bun on top of my head and start putting my clothes into the drawers.
DEAN
Climbing out of the shower, I grab my towel and wrap it around my waist just in case Kleo decides to barge into my room again. My room. "Fucking princess," I murmur. Truthfully, I can't even pinpoint the day she went from a beautiful enigma to enemy number one, but that's exactly what the blonde is to me.
An enemy bent on taking what I've worked the last two years to improve.
I dress quickly and pull a baseball hat onto my head before stepping out into the living room. I can hear humming from the kitchen, and it raises my already high heart rate. Ten weeks. I'm stuck with her for ten damned weeks.
And living together? Is this some kind of sick game? So, not only do I have to share a camp with her but a fucking house? Moe is going to just love hearing about this if he hasn’t already.
Kleo's standing at the coffee pot, shaking her perfect ass in a pair of cutoff shorts, and it's all I can take to not blow a damned gasket. She turns and jumps, her cheeks reddening when she realizes I've been privy to her show.
If she thinks for one damned second that she's going to distract me—
"I made you coffee," she turns and sets a mug with steaming liquid on the island in front of me. "I don't know how you like it, so it's black."
"Why the hell did you make me coffee?"
"Because, if we're going to be living and working together, I think we should reach some kind of truce, don’t you?" She smiles, reminding me of a snake about to bite.
I lean down, pressing both palms to the cool granite. "What the hell kind of game do you think we're playing?"
She saunters across the space, stopping in front of me and leaning in so I can feel the heat of her breath on my neck. Goosebumps flare to life where her breath washes over me, and I fight against the urge to lean in closer. “The kind I’m going to win. And the second I take over this camp, you’re gone.” Her tone is honey dripping with venom. Which is fitting, since she has the beauty of a Siren and just as deadly.
I grin down at her, lowering my face so I’m even closer. Even as I fucking despise her—and believe me, I absolutely do—I can’t help but let my gaze flicker to her full lips. They’re parted slightly, and I get the brief notion that she’s as attracted to me as I am to her. And just as fucking frustrated by it. Good. “You won’t ever get this camp,” I tell her. “As flaky as you are? I’ll be surprised if you make it to the opening, much less through the end of the summer.”
She runs her pink tongue over her bottom lip, and I clench my hands to fists because as much as I want to get her the hell away from me—my body has an entirely different reaction. My cock hardens and I flex my fingers, the traitorous bastards wanting to reach for her.
“You and I are going to be the best of friends, Nerdean,” she says and turns away from me. All lust deflates at the mention of my old nickname.
This week is going to be miserable. Hell, this entire summer is going to be miserable, and there’s honestly a part of me that considers just walking away now and letting her have it.
But the prideful side of me immediately dismisses it. Kleo Turner can have this camp when she pries it from my cold, dead fingers.
Dean
Desperate for yet another cup of coffee—apparently the pot I’ve drunk already is not enough—I push away from my desk and get to my feet, mug in hand.
“Oooh! Where are we going?”
Curious as to who that is? If you guess the world’s most annoying person, then you’d be correct. Kleo hops up from the chair in the corner where she’s been sitting and staring at me for the last two hours, asking repeatedly for me to show her my welcome binders. Nothing like spending what should have been a peaceful Saturday being followed around and hounded over and over again. I don’t even have to look behind me to know she’s following me to the kitchen.
Literally follows me. The woman walks so damned close that if I stopped mid-step she’d slam right into me. I’d be lying if I didn’t consider it, but the thought of her pressed against me sounds like a terrible fucking idea. So, instead, I do my best to ignore her and set my mug down before cleaning out the old grounds and putting fresh in. I hit the brew button, leaning against the counter, eyes closed.