Taming Chloe Summers (Grover Beach Team #7) (22 page)

BOOK: Taming Chloe Summers (Grover Beach Team #7)
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Simultaneously, we light a match each and then throw them at the wood stack. Within the blink of an eye, it goes up in bright orange flames, competing with the golden sunset behind the trees. A round of applause travels through the crowd of kids. My gaze skates across the place, lingering on Chloe. Her big, brown eyes are alight with the awe of a child. Does she even know how beautiful she looks?

Someone brought a radio, and loud music fills the area, officially starting the midsummer party. The rhythm is catchy, the tune familiar. The dance-lesson kids must be playing DJ tonight.

I step up to Greyson, nodding at Julie and Chloe standing a little offside by a chest-height bistro table we found in a storage room when we set up everything for tonight. “Let’s get the girls a drink.” From the food table, we grab two bottles each and saunter over to the ladies. Placing a Coke in front of Chloe, I unscrew the top of my Fanta and take a swig.

The way she watches me reminds me of a day in the woods with her four years ago. It’s one of my most precious memories of us.

Her focus on me, she’s lying on her back in the grass, squinting, because the sun favors her face today. Hands laced over her stomach, her right index starts to tap on the back of the other hand.

“You don’t believe me?” I tease her, waggling my brows once before I take a sip from my can of Fanta.

“Not quite.” Chloe gives me a tight smile, then her tongue darts out and licks her bottom lip. “If you really do, then kiss me now.”

Oh, she can definitely have that. I hold the can aside, brace myself with one arm next to her head, and lean down to touch my lips to hers. As she welcomes the kiss, I feed her a few drips of the Fanta—mouth to mouth.

Rocking with giggles, she pushes at my chest and gets up on her knees to swallow the little bit she caught. The glare she sends me as she wipes a stray drop from her chin wouldn’t even scare a butterfly. “You did that on purpose!”

I absolutely did, and her outraged look of surprise was hilarious that day. But I know she loved it anyway.

“Want some?” I offer her now with a smirk.

She snaps out of wherever she was in her thoughts and stares at me with mild horror, then she quickly shakes her head. Her gulp makes me think that perhaps we were at the same place in our memories just then.

I don’t get a chance to find out, because Addison and Kristina visit us at that moment and each grabs one of Chloe’s hands. “Come on, let’s dance!” they urge her, already dragging her away from us.

“Wait! I can’t,” she complains, but her giggles tell me she’d actually love to. “Not with these shoes…”

Oh yeah, I can see how they raise a problem as she wobbles on the heels. But she quickly finds a solution. Bending one leg first and then the other, she slides the wedges off her feet, clumsily balancing on one foot at a time. “Justin,” she calls out as she pivots to me, a bright beam on her face. The next instant, she hurls the first shoe at me. In a rush of reflex, I catch it with one hand, and then the other when it follows a second later. I put them under the table.

Barefoot and happy, she slides into the circle of Zumba girls around the bonfire, joining in the choreography. Her skirt fans out, her movements perfectly in sync with the others, and a hearty laugh rumbles from her chest. She looks gorgeous when she dances.

As if reeled in by a fishing rod, I move forward until I’m standing right behind her. From spying on her every single morning for the past two weeks, the steps to this song are nothing new to me. And without thinking twice, I fall into pace with her.

Salsa with the right leg, salsa with the left leg, five teapot steps to the right, and then both hands in the air… Ohh! Ohh!

When all the girls cheer at my dancing like groupies at a Bruno Mars concert, Chloe whirls around, her startled gaze nailing me straight in the face. “Wha—”

There’s no time for questions, the song isn’t over yet. Ignoring her perplexed expression, I take her hand and twirl her back into her former position, staying behind her. With my hands on her hips now, we repeat the same choreo to the opposite side, making the girls scream their
oooh
s of excitement.

The next sequence of the song is an instrumental solo that requires twists, as far as I remember. Chloe spins right into my arms, and this time I hold her there. Her cheeks flushed, her lips slightly parted, we stand nose to nose, neither of us moving for a fraction of a second. Then the song and everything around us fades to oblivion.

My fingers gripping her sides just a little harder, I move her toward me until her heart beats against mine. Reaching up, I skim a portion of her silky hair behind her ear, stroking her cheekbone with the back of my knuckles. Her skin is so tender and soft, it gives me a tiny thrill to touch it. The moment stretches to infinity. And then she whispers, “Kiss me.”

Dammit, I’d love nothing more than to grant her wish. But with the kids around us, their inquisitive eyes surely hanging on every move we make, it’s not the right time nor the right place to let desire sweep to the surface.

With a twinge in my heart, I shake my head only so much that she can see it. Which might have been a mistake. Chloe doesn’t blink. She doesn’t breathe. Only her hands slip away from my shoulders. I catch them midair. “Chloe—”

“No, don’t.” With a gentle twist, she pulls her hands free from my grip. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. It’s okay, really.”

I search her face with narrowed eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” She offers me a firm smile. “We can talk later. This is a party, and I should be dancing.”

“Okay.” But we
will
talk about it later. And I’ll also collect the kiss she mentioned. Leaving her to have fun with the girls for now, I return to the table, where Greyson and Julie watch me approach with obvious intrigue.

“Dang, I knew I saw you two holding hands when you arrived together!” Julie squeaks, then turns to Grey and smacks him on the upper arm. “Didn’t I tell you?”

Greyson laughs and takes a drink of his Coke. “Yes, you said so once or twice.”

“For a moment there, I thought you were going to kiss her,” she continues, her cheerful voice rising to new heights of elation. I know that feeling. My heart’s still beating a little too fast as well.

Conspiratorially, I lean in and confess in her ear, “For a moment there, I thought so, too.”

Her eyes wrinkle at the corners with her smile. “I said from the beginning, you’d make a stunning couple.”

Well, exactly
how
stunning remains to be seen, but at this point I wouldn’t mind finding out. Greyson and I clink bottles and take a sip.

When the circle of girls around the fire dissipates a few minutes later, I wait for Chloe to find us again. Maybe I can steal her away into the woods and make good on the missed kiss. But she doesn’t show up. Letting my gaze skate across the place, I can’t spot her anywhere. Only her shoes are still under the table.

“I’m gonna take a walk around.” Leaving my bottle behind with my co-counselors, I wander off in search of her. The heat of the flames drove the kids away from the bonfire in a wide berth a while ago. Some of them lounge on huge logs, others stand in small groups together. Chloe is nowhere to be seen.

When Addison zooms past me a couple minutes later, I snatch her arm and hold her up. “Hey, have you seen Chloe anywhere?”

She cuts a quick look behind her to the path that leads to the lake. “She said she forgot something in her cabin and was going to get it.”

My brows knit together. “When was that?”

“Fifteen minutes ago?” Addison shrugs. “Maybe twenty.”

What in the world could she have forgotten there? And leaving without her shoes, that doesn’t seem like her at all. Unless—

Squeezing my eyes shut, I hang my head and expel a rough sigh through clenched teeth. Jeez, I’m such a stupid shit! I refused to kiss her. Of course.
Nothing
is okay.

Chapter 18

 

Chloe

 

Just in your wildest dreams…
The line rings in my ears like a terrible joke all the way through the woods back to the girls’ campsite. Maybe that’s what he planned all along. To prove he could make me fall for him a second time. And then get his revenge.

Everything considered, it probably serves me right. But, crap, it hurts.

I run past the lake, avoiding a glance at the dock that had started to mean so much to me. All I want now is to get to the cabin, pack my junk, and be gone before anybody notices. Tomorrow is the 31
st
. I’ve clocked my hours, and probation has come to an end. It won’t make a difference if I leave a day early.

Something sharp cuts into the palm of my bare foot. “Ow!” I hobble toward a tree, holding on to the trunk for balance, then I bend my leg and brush a pebble off my sole. I couldn’t even collect my shoes with Justin standing over them like a guard. The last thing I wanted was to face him again after he rebuffed me without batting an eye.

They were nice sandals; I hate leaving them behind. A groan escapes me, but I pull myself together fast and head on. The heck with my shoes. Justin can keep them as a trophy. They’ll be the last thing he ever sees of me anyway.

Reaching our cabin eventually, I dash up the stairs and storm inside. Brinna needs to pick me up, but I’m in too much of a hurry to call her straight away. First priority:
Get out of here.
Second:
Get a ride.
There’s time enough to call her once I’m out of camp. She can pick me up somewhere on the road.

It takes less than five minutes to throw everything in the suitcase, but it takes a freaking eternity to get the damn top closed. Did I really bring this much stuff? When the hard-top case is shut at last, I slip into the black ballerina flats I left out to replace my wedges and trudge out. By the door, however, my gaze sweeps the room one last time.

Julie’s bed is nicely made. Mine, too. I forgot to take off the sheets. Dammit.

There’s no time to do that now. Maybe Julie will take them home with her. My chest lifts with a sigh. She’s one of the things I’ll miss most when all this has come to an end. She and her ever-present smile.

Also Greyson.

And the acting lessons.

And dancing.

And maybe the kids.

A little bit.

And then, of course…Justin.

Clearing my throat, I step out onto the porch and close the door. The suitcase rumbles down the stairs behind me. Feeling like I’m trying to escape from prison, adrenaline rides me hard. There’s only half a mile between me and freedom. Everything will be over and good once I’m past the Camp Clover welcome sign.

But a strange reluctance sneaks into my steps. By the picnic table, I stop and look around. There’s no sound, no activity whatsoever on the wraparound porches of the Tiger and Owl cabins. Regardless, the bustle of the past couple of weeks echoes in my mind. The kids mustered up so much enthusiasm about acting. And there’re actually some great talent among them. I hope sadly that one of the other counselors will take up my place and keep working with them on the play. Maybe then they’ll get a chance to perform in front of their parents after all. Justin can arrange it. He’s good at stuff like that. He’s good with youngsters. Heck, he’s good at almost anything. Especially sneaking back into my heart.

My gaze lands on the paintball gun on the table. The boys found it—the one I lost—a couple days ago in the woods. It’s been lying here ever since, together with the mask I was wearing that day.

In a melancholy trance, I gently stroke the shaft of the gun. It’s still loaded. I don’t think I fired a single ball. No wait, that’s not true. I shot Justin—right in the chest. But that was his gun I used, not mine. A small smile tugs on my lips as my mind strays off to how all the girls avenged my death. And how later that evening, Justin put a Band-Aid on my cut.

Taking a deep breath, I shake the memory away and head off. It’s time to leave this part of the summer behind and think about the future. London is calling. And I can’t wait to get there. Right?

“Chloe, wait.”

A cold thrill travels through my body at the sudden sound of Justin’s voice behind me. But I don’t stop. Instead, I forge on even faster than before.

“Hold it right there or, I swear”—a paintball zooms past my face and bursts on the trunk of an oak in front of me—“the next one hits your ass.”

I gulp, halting in my tracks, and spin around, distressed. Weapon lifted to his shoulder, head tilted for aim, Justin points the mouth of the gun at me. “What do you want?” I snap.

He ignores my question and takes a step closer. “Hands off the suitcase.”

Rolling my eyes in annoyance, I lift both hands in surrender. When he comes closer, his finger still on the trigger, I take one step back for each one he moves forward. “This isn’t funny,” I growl. “Tell me what you want or let me go.” The next instant, I knock into the oak behind me, stopping dead.

He lowers the gun and crosses the last couple of feet to me. His face is in mine, his breaths fast and angry. “Why the fuck are you running away?”

“I’m not,” I mumble.

With a tilt of his head at my suitcase and one arched eyebrow, he proves me a liar. “Is it because I didn’t kiss you?” Next thing I know, he slips his hand behind my neck, yanks me forward those few inches, and kisses me hard.

It’s over before I even realized what happened. I have yet to catch my breath as he glares at me with inescapable intensity. “And now—we talk.”

There’s nothing to say. Not for me, anyway, because my mind is still caught up in a carousel of confusion.

“When you told me before that I should kiss you, I wanted nothing more than to just do it.” He clenches his teeth. “But not in front of thirty teenage witnesses. I’ve been thinking of ways to get you all to myself—in the woods, in the cabin, down by the lake.
Wherever
.”

Struggling to break free from my current stupor, I shake my head. Justin kissed me. He just freaking damn kissed me. And he wants me? My tongue darts out to wet my lips, but words still elude me like cats do water.

Gently, he skims a few wisps of hair off of my forehead, catching one and winding it around his finger. My heart pounds a fast beat against my rib cage. “Why did you run away?” he whispers then.

My knees are far too shaky, so I’m glad for the tree behind my back to give me balance. But at the same time, with his scrutinizing eyes so close, I wish for a way to escape. After a deep sigh, I give him a croaky answer. “Because you’re making things complicated.” He’s done so from the beginning, but with what he confessed seconds ago, even more so now. “I have plans. I’m going away for a year. I don’t care for—for—” Needing some space to breathe, I break out of his prison and spin around to him. “For
this
!” With both hands, I indicate us, pointing out our miserable situation. “The emotional ties…”

Justin swallows at my harsh words, his gaze filling with hurt. Inhaling deeply through his nose, he licks his bottom lip and nods slowly. Then, after an endless exhale, he murmurs only one word: “Okay.”

My heart breaks in two. One half will remain in this moment forever.

He puts the paintball gun down, handle on the ground, shaft leaning against the tree. As he slowly walks toward me, he rubs one hand over his mouth. “Then can we at least find a way to deal with it, so you can stay until the play’s over and don’t have to let the kids down?”

I don’t think we can, because the only time I have left to give them is one more day. Fumbling with the hem of my top, I lower my chin, keeping my mouth shut.

“Seriously, tiger? You won’t even give it a chance?” Helplessly, his gaze darts around the moonlit place. “Does all this mean nothing to you?”

It means far too much to me already, that’s the whole problem. Although the words don’t come out, there’s no doubt he can read the truth in my eyes when our gazes meet.

Justin takes a step forward, reaching out with his hands. Before he can touch me, I retreat a small distance. His lips compress into a tortured line. Eventually, he tucks his hands into his pockets, looking as if he just doesn’t know what else to do with them right now, and clears his throat. “Mind if we walk a bit?”

I know this conversation isn’t over, so we may as well. My suitcase will still be here when we come back, and I haven’t made a call to Brinna yet.

Turning in the lake’s direction, I start ambling down the path. Justin walks quietly beside me, keeping a fair distance between us. No holding hands this time, no smile, no taunting or charming. Everything is so much different from just two hours ago, it’s like we jumped back to square one in only an instant. I should be glad about it. But my throat clogs.

“So, you decided to disappear without a goodbye,” he breaks the silence when we reach the frog pond. “Just like four years ago.”

Yes. Except, it wasn’t a last-minute decision, it’s been planned this way from the beginning—spontaneously happening twenty-four hours early. “I didn’t want to run into trouble.”

“Right. Because it’s so hard to say: ‘Hey, Justin, you know, you and I just don’t work
.
’”

I kick a stone out of my way. “You don’t understand my situation.”

All of a sudden, he slides in front of me and stops me with his hands gripping my shoulders tight. His desperate gaze bores a hole in my skull. “Enlighten me then, for God’s sake!”

Three heartbeats pass before I crumple under his stare. My gaze drops to my toes. Justin let’s go of my shoulders and places one finger under my chin, tilting my head up. A soft sigh escapes him. “Please.”

When I can’t bear his look any longer, I brush past him and wander out onto the dock, watching the moonlight caress the surface of the lake. Nervously, my fingers start to work on the hem of my top. “I don’t want to be here.”

Justin’s slow footsteps on the wood behind me come closer, but he remains silent, so I continue. “I never thought I’d let anyone or anything come between me and what I want.” Unless it was law enforcement. “Yet, ever since the beginning of this damn summer, I’ve been getting more and more engrossed in…
things
. It feels like they swallow me up and stop me from thinking about the future. About my own plans.”

About tomorrow.

Forlorn, I whirl around, finding Justin right in front of me. His hands are in his pockets again, but his eyes gleam with interest.

“I’m not myself anymore,” I croak through a sandpaper throat.

Never breaking eye contact, he deliberates for a couple of seconds. “Maybe you just tried so hard to be this new person in high school that, over the years, you forgot who you really are. And even if I’m wrong”—reaching out with one hand, he runs his knuckles down my cheek—“I like who you’ve become in the past couple of weeks.” He pauses then continues with quiet insistence, “Don’t leave because of me.”

He may like this person, but I don’t. She makes me feel vulnerable. And I pushed away one of my best friends because I had something better to do than hang out with her. I wouldn’t have done that at any time during high school, or last year either. It must be this goddamn place! Terrible things happen at summer camp. Guys fall into rivers and get attacked by leeches. Hearts get broken. And I’m going to lose my mind.

“I’d rather you didn’t touch me like this,” I murmur.

“Like what?”

“Like it means something.”

His palm shapes to my cheek. “Why? Does it mean something to you?”

Yes. A damn lot. “No.” With a pouting growl, I pull his hand away from my face. “It only makes me want to push you off the dock.”

He laughs. “Nah, it doesn’t,” he says, but at least he keeps his hands to himself for now. And I already miss his touch a tiny bit.

I should be going. I should turn around and not let him charm me with his humor, his gentle touch, or the sweet sound of his laugh. Only, the longer I look into his warm eyes, the harder the way out of camp seems to become. The scary odds are, if he only says the right words, I’ll be thinking about staying here for as long as he wants me. And that can’t happen. So I’d rather he shut up completely.

“Did you know it was always that sulky part of you that I liked most?”

Fate obviously gets a kick out of denying my every wish these days. Inwardly, I cringe, because I can feel how I’m succumbing to the moment with Justin more and more. And why is he telling me this, of all things, tonight? Just hearing him speak about our past gives me a strange butterfly-ish feeling in my stomach. It also makes me want to smile. “You actually liked it when I kept you at a distance?”

“I liked the challenge. That way, I experienced what it’s like to really,
really
want you.”

Pleasurable shivers slither down my spine at his words, but I muster a nonchalant expression. “You’ve always been strange.”

Taking my compliment for the tease it is, he counters with a smirk, “And you’ve always been a bad liar.”

How can this man make me laugh so easily? I hate that. But I love it all the same. Justin’s like some bad kind of candy I should stay clear off. Like toffee. It’s bad for your teeth and adds unnecessary pounds to your hips. But damn, it’s so very delicious. It takes more than a normal amount of self-control to stay away from it. Regardless, I have to give it a try. “Can we go back now?”

BOOK: Taming Chloe Summers (Grover Beach Team #7)
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