“Oh no, really?” Megan asks. I’m glad to see she’s engaged because it means I can push aside whatever misplaced jealousy I was carrying at the thought of her and Dean together.
“Yeah, I really appreciate the invite though. I had a lot of fun.” I flash them both a smile.
“We’ll see you tomorrow for day two? It’s usually the most fun.” Amber takes a drink as Keith, Polland, and Dean head our way.
“Dean’s headed out,” Keith announces, wrapping an arm around Amber’s shoulders. “He thoroughly whooped mine and Polland’s asses and has decided his victory is best spent sleeping.”
“What a coincidence!” Megan announces, and I cringe. Please, no. “Kleo is going home too. Now you can make sure she gets to her car safely.”
Dean stares at me across the table like I planned this. Honestly, I’m just ready to get back to the cabin and away from everyone. I’ve seen at least half a dozen people point at me and whisper since I’ve been here, and while I imagine it has more to do with them noticing I’m back than what happened two years ago, it still makes my skin crawl.
“No need. I parked close enough. See you guys tomorrow.” Before Dean can respond, I head for the door and shove out into the muggy night.
The streets are completely empty, anyone who’s still out behind me at Moe’s since it’s the only place in Turner Cove that stays open past ten. The door behind me opens, and I start my stroll.
“I thought you said you parked close.”
Dean’s voice sends tendrils of heat up my spine, and I turn around, plastering another fake smile on my face. “I’m not that far.”
“I’ll walk you.”
“No, thanks.”
He shoves both hands into his pockets and glares at me, not moving from where he stands a few feet behind me, so with a groan, I continue walking. If he wants to follow me, then fine, let his ass follow me. We pass his truck and three cars later, I get to mine.
Hitting the button on my handle, I hear the door unlock, and I pull it open as Dean turns on his heel and heads back to his truck.
The drive to the house doesn’t take nearly as long as I’d like, and soon, I’m pulling up into the parking spot, Dean’s headlights shining over me as he parks beside me.
I’m no sooner getting out and trying unsuccessfully to unlock the door than he’s behind me, reaching around, smelling entirely too fucking good as he unlocks the door for me. “I was doing just fine,” I snap, unsure where this anger has come from.
But I’m primed and ready for a fight, so I know if I don’t get to my room soon, Dean is going to take the wrath of it.
“You know, they all know what you’re doing.”
I stop in the hall and turn to Dean. “Excuse me?”
“Megan, Amber, Keith, Polland. They know you’re trying to take my job.”
I grip my keys, my hand clenching into a fist around the metal. More people talking shit about me behind my back. Why should I be surprised? “This was always meant to be mine,” I tell him, walking closer. My voice is level despite the anger as I realize that’s what’s been bothering me this entire damned day.
Everyone knows this camp should have been mine, and yet I’ve felt like an intruder in a place that should feel like home. That did feel like home until this morning.
“A home you bailed on,” he growls back at me, and I cross the space to him, standing nearly toe to toe and looking up into his eyes. I can smell the hops on his breath, the pine-scented body wash—or whatever the fuck it is that he uses.
“You have no idea what I’ve been through,” I tell him. “So don’t think for one second that you know me.”
He glares down at me, lowering his face so his mouth is barely an inch from mine. “I know all about you, Kleo Turner. I’ve known you for a long damned time.”
Dean’s gaze holds mine a moment longer before he pulls away and heads past me, down the hall, and into his room.
14
Dean
The slide show ends, and I stand up, flipping on the light switch and making my way to the front of the cafeteria. “And there’s your refresher on conflict resolution. Any questions?”
For returning counselors like Amber, Keith, and Megan, this is a refresher. But for Kleo and our newest counselor, Robert, this stuff is new. Well, mostly new for Kleo. From what I hear, she has a master’s in psychology, which means she should have at least a basic understanding of resolving issues that arise between campers.
Robert raises his hand. “If the conflict resolution doesn’t work, what’s the next step?”
“If they’re in separate bunks, we put them together and monitor the situation, making sure the junior counselor is right there with them should there be an issue. If that doesn’t work, we separate them and keep an eye on it.”
“You force two kids together who hate each other?” Kleo asks, and I turn to her, mentally preparing myself for another smart-ass remark like she’s been tossing my way all morning.
“A lot of times, the conflict stems from a misunderstanding. Remove that misunderstanding, make them walk a mile in each other’s shoes, so to speak, and you fix the issue.”
“I understand. That seems like a great plan. I mean, it’s worked for us, right?”
Heat rushes to my face. Surely she is not going to keep calling me out in front of everyone. Robert raises his hand again. “Yeah?”
“How do we make sure the campers stay in their cabins?”
“We have a junior counselor sleep in there with them, and each cabin is rigged with an alarm. If anyone opens the door after lights out or before first-call, it will go off.” I pause a moment, waiting for any other questions. When there are none, I breathe a sigh of relief. “That’s all, guys. Head down to the beach, or head home, your pick.”
Everyone but Kleo gets up, leaving as quickly as they possibly can. I’m sure they all feel the tension in here, and God knows I’d leave if I could. Instead, I stand in front of her, ready for whatever else she’s going to fling my way. “We don’t like each other, that much is clear,” I say carefully. “And while I very much doubt you have a respectful bone in your body, it’d be great if you could at least fake it when we’re in front of co-workers and the campers.”
She grins, a sexy smile that warms me from the inside out even as it pisses me the fuck off. Getting to her feet, she saunters over and stops a foot in front of me, hands on her hips. “Dean, are you used to women faking things around you?”
I lean down, not missing the way her pupils dilate as she watches me. She can pretend all she wants, but I know I have the same effect on her that she has on me. Even if we both fucking hate it. “You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you? I hate to break it to you, Princess, but there’s not a woman around who’s had to fake it with me.” When I pull back, I have to force myself not to look down at her mouth, or further, where her barely covered red bikini top is peeking out of a white tank top. It’s ridiculous how fucking sexy she is.
How she makes me want to kiss her even as I want to smother her with a damned pillow. A complete predicament that I remember clearly as a teen and was totally unprepared to deal with as an adult.