Taming the Revel (Endless Summer)

by Dawn Klehr

  “I am.” He strolled over to the group. That’s right. If Rebel didn’t want his company, there were plenty of other people who did.

  “I’m Blake,” the blonde said. “This is Zoe and Megan.”

  “Justice.” He chatted up the girls and found out that Blake was new meat, too. Most of the others, however, had been coming here since they were little kids, so it was beginning to feel like high school all over again. Maybe being alone wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

  “Hey, ladies.” Rebel joined the group with a duffle hooked over her shoulder and a large book tucked under her arm. The death glare was gone, but the crazy dancing eyes that took their place had him even more on edge. His heart beat a little faster, and it took him by surprise. Damn, he thought he was over the weird feelings. Whatever feelings they were, he didn’t know and surely didn’t care to define.

  “I should warn you to stay away from this one.” Rebel tipped her head in Justice’s direction and then turned her back to him, whispering something to the hot threesome.

  The girls peered around her teeny frame, not that he was looking. Or interested.

  “But if you can’t help yourself,” Rebel said aloud now, “I might have something in here to help.” She tapped her book.

  And then— Oh, hell no. Did the three of them just check out his junk and wrinkle their noses, before backing away? Well, all but Megan. She flashed a wink before she left.

  Rebel stayed in place, smiling ear to ear. What was she up to?

  “Okay,” he said, removing his sunglasses and tucking them into the neck of his shirt. He was ready to play. “Tell me what you said to those girls.”

  “Nothing much.” She giggled. “Just mentioned what I heard about that pesky rash of yours. You know,” she mouthed the last part, “below the belt.” She pointed at the area in question, and he grabbed her finger. Hard. This was so not cool. People were staring.

  And there was that zing again—stronger this time when they made contact. He tried to push it out of his mind.

  “Stop,” he told her as his insides warmed—in embarrassment or excitement, he couldn’t be sure. Either way, he didn’t like it. Not when she was acting like this.

  “Sorry.” She pulled her hand out of his grip. “But I wouldn’t want them to get any ideas about taking you to the courts at night.”

  He had no idea what that meant, and he didn’t care. “What’s your problem, anyway?”

  “You. You are my problem.” She took a step closer and jabbed a finger into his chest, invading his space with her wintery scent. That was the only way he could describe how she smelled. It wasn’t like Georgia winters, but the winters from his childhood in the Midwest before they moved. Something like cocoa mixed with the fresh air that filled the room whenever someone came inside from the cold. Sweet and crisp and impossible to ignore.

  He loved and hated it all at the same time.

  As she closed in on him, he realized just how he towered over her small body. How could so much attitude fit into such a tiny package? Her head barely reached his shoulders, so he actually had to strain his neck so he could meet her eyes—big and bright green and… Crap, he had to look away.

  Placing a hand over the beaded bracelet on his left wrist that his mom gave him, he took a breath and fingered the beads. It was some kind of yoga thing that his mom said would help center him, get rid of his anger, and keep him relaxed while he was away. Since his dad moved out, his mom had brought home all kinds of hippie shit to get rid of negative energy and cleanse her chi, whatever that entailed. But at this point he was willing to try anything. Rebel unnerved him. And his body was a double-crossing asshole.

  “What did I do?” he asked, once he pulled himself together. He was honestly confused. Yeah, he could understand that the situation was uncomfortable, but why was she so pissed at him?

  “I’m on to you, Brody.” She lifted her finger off his chest, and he felt like he could breathe again. “You’re the reason my dad and Stephen broke up, and don’t try to deny it.”

  Now that he could actually focus on her words, he was the one getting pissed. What she said was an all-out lie. Was he happy they split? Maybe. It sure made things less complicated, but let’s face it, the damage had already been done. And who was she to tell him off and start rumors about him anyway? He was so over having to put up with this kind of crap.

  No more drama. He heard Coach’s words in his head, but he couldn’t stop himself.

  “I have better things to worry about,” he said, puffing out his chest like he was out on the field. “Like my sex life. Something you might want to focus on your own damn self…considering.”

  He knew when it came out it was a low blow, especially after what she’d told him that time in her room—during their one moment. Why did he always have to take the low road?

  And if that wasn’t bad enough, his response was also a big fat lie. He had absolutely no sex life to speak of. In fact, he was pretty sure he was the only virgin on the team. Well, other than Hoover Jones. But that’s because the guy smelled like eggs. All the time. He, on the other hand, had no excuse. Not that Rebel needed to know any of this.

  “Well.” She grinned in a way that was not at all friendly. “Let’s see how you like it when someone messes with that precious sex life.”

  “What’s that now? You’re going to cockblock me?” Okay, he was finally following along with her crazy. She thought he was the reason their dads broke up, and now she was going to make him pay. For shit’s sake. Why was it so important to her anyway?

  “Call it what you want, but you better get very familiar with this,” she said as she grabbed his hand, giving it a little shake, “because it’s the only action you’ll be getting this summer.”

  Wow!

  She did not just say that, did she? Jesus, how did he ever find her spunk cute?

  Fine, if she really wanted to play hardball, he was up for the challenge. She didn’t know who she was dealing with, though, and he hoped it wouldn’t come down to him showing her. But then his coach’s voice rang in his ears again, louder this time. Sparring with a girl was really the last thing he needed at the moment.

  So for once, instead of fighting back, he vowed to just ignore her.

  “Oh, don’t worry about me, Rebel. I’ll be just fine.” He flipped his sunglasses back on and strode toward his cabin, feeling her eyes on him.

  At least he hoped her eyes were on him.

  Yep, he was that pathetic, and the score wasn’t looking good.

  Rebel: 1

  Justice: 0

  Okay, it was definitely time to man up. If he could take a team of 200-pound guys on his ass, he could handle the five-foot-two little girl.

  Couldn’t he?

  Chapter Three

  Survival Tip #7

  “Always keep your cool. Predators can smell fear.”

  Rebel

  So…death by infatuation?

  Could happen.

  It was a darn good thing that she remained unaffected.

  Don’t look back, don’t look back. She chanted it over and over again as she made her way to the girls’ cabins. She was in G8A, the same cabin she’d had for the last two years and the smallest at camp, which meant she only had one bunkmate. Yassss! Although, she always referred to their little home away from home as W8A, because they weren’t girls anymore. At least she wasn’t. And by the look of it, she wasn’t the only one who thought so. There was a piece of masking tape over the G and a big black W was in its place on their front door. It pumped her up a bit.

  Yes, she was woman, hear her roar, and she would not let Justice intimidate her, especially on her own turf. Great, now she sounded like a character in West Side Story. She chewed on her lip in full concentration—she couldn’t let him get her worked up like this. So the guy wasn’t a pushover. Okay, she could use that. Maybe she’d have a worthy opponent for once. Not like the ball-less ex-boyfriend of hers who took her revenge cocktail lying down with his tai
l between his legs.

  Justice was different. He definitely had his balls, even if he was a liar.

  And then he had the nerve to turn his back on her. His toned, muscular back that wasn’t at all bulky like the other football players at school. The kind that tapered down to a tight waist and a rock hard— Nope, she would not start waxing poetic about his butt.

  Down, girl!

  Just because he was hot, didn’t mean she’d surrender and give up on her plan. Uh-huh, she could easily master her hormones.

  What she couldn’t figure out was how he could be here, at her camp, when the football team had started practice last week. She’d gotten her hands on the summer schedule this morning, and practice was in full swing. And shoot, that reminded her of the perfectly good strip-o-gram that would go to waste.

  “Rebel,” a voice squealed from the cabin porch. “Get that cute little hiney of yours over here.”

  She shielded her eyes, so she could make out the tiny cabin ahead. Sure enough, Aubrey was looking through her binoculars—as she always did from the porch, which was probably why her friend knew everything that was going on at the camp. From bed-wetting and homesickness to every argument, crush, and hookup, Aubrey was in the know.

  Rebel walked up the steps into her friend’s willowy arms and suddenly, thoughts of Justice, the strip-o-gram, and her revenge cocktail seemed to fade away.

  “I’ve been waiting for you,” Aubrey said into Rebel’s neck. How she’d missed her friend and that sugary accent of hers. It was a balm on her overheated skin.

  She’d met Aubrey that first night at the camp bonfire, eight years ago now, and instantly took to her. But they became inseparable on the day when all the care packages arrived at camp. It was tradition for parents to send something to the campers, but Rebel’s dad didn’t get the memo, so she was left empty-handed when the mail arrived.

  The girls in her cabin tore open boxes of treats and sweet notes and other fun little toys and gadgets, as she looked on. A few of the other girls made fun of her and said it was because she didn’t have a mom at home to remember.

  Aubrey told them to shut up and shared her package with Rebel. The two finished off every last Oreo Aubrey’s mom had packed as they sat by the campfire that night. They’d been joined at the hip every year since. And once her poor dad had heard about the fiasco, let’s just say he’d gone above and beyond on care-package day ever since.

  “Soooo,” Aubrey said, pulling Rebel inside before flopping on her bunk, “looky what Hotlanta brought in. My gorgeous girl! And some new dude with an eight-pack to die for. Who was that tall drink of water you were talking to? Does he go to your school?”

  “Tall drink of water?” Rebel rolled her eyes. “Yes, he does unfortunately. But how’d you pick all that up in a matter of”—She looked at the clock on the wall since she had to turn in her phone when she arrived—“ten minutes?”

  Aubrey waved her binocs. “Had to kill the time somehow. You know Jan and Dad. They dropped me off as soon as camp opened. Couldn’t waste a minute of their precious freedom.”

  Her friend didn’t have the best home life, and every year when camp ended, Rebel always had a new appreciation for her dad.

  “Okay,” she said, trying to change the subject. “What do you know so far?”

  “Well, the hot, ripped one—”

  “Hold on a minute,” Rebel said. “He was fully clothed, so how do you know that he’s all ripped and has an eight-pack? Plus, is that really a thing? I thought it was a six-pack.”

  “Eight’s the new six, and trust me, I just know these things. He came in on the red bus and talked to Zoe and company before you came over and said something to piss him off.” Aubrey smirked before admiring her perfect manicure. “What was that all about? Did he grab your ass or something?”

  “No.” Rebel opened her bag and started unpacking. “He’s Stephen’s son.”

  Boom.

  Rebel and Aubrey tried to keep in touch throughout the school year, but their communication always picked up in the weeks before they left for camp. Aubrey knew all about the relationship, Rebel’s lusting issues, and their dads’ breakup.

  “Nooooo,” Aubrey cried out, slamming the pillow on the bed. “Really? That’s Justice? But he’s too hot to hate. We do hate him, right?” She looked at Rebel with her big, brown puppy dog eyes, all hopeful.

  “Yes, we do,” she agreed. “We hate him.”

  Aubrey’s face soured. “You’re killing me here, Rebby. I thought maybe we had some new meat to work with this summer.”

  Rebel narrowed her gaze. She could not take her friend going after Justice. She wasn’t sure why, she only knew she didn’t like the sound of that at all.

  “New meat for you.” Aubrey raised her hands up in a don’t shoot motion. “Only for you. Especially after what your ex did. You need a summer of fun. Undo everything that happened last year.”

  If only it were that easy. “I doubt that’s possible, since I can’t make my hymen grow back.”

  Aubrey’s face turned white, and her mouth dropped open—always the dramatic one. “Can you be a little cruder, Reb, geeeeez.”

  “Trust me, the whole experience was crude,” she said matter-of-factly. Rebel wasn’t one for sugarcoating things, and definitely not for the sake of her ex, Ryan. She wasn’t naive enough to expect the clouds to part and the angels to sing, but she did expect it to be special. She wasn’t the hookup type—not that she judged anyone who was—actually, that might’ve been better in the long run. But once she made the decision, it was a big deal to her. Too bad Ryan didn’t feel the same.

  It wasn’t that the actual sex was terrible. It was what happened afterward that made junior year one of the worst ever. At least she wasn’t among the 136 people who died during sex last year, but she did trust the wrong person—hot, popular, and shallow. That blind trust thing seemed to be a family trait. Like father, like daughter.

  But Aubrey was right. It was time to put all of that behind her.

  She unpacked her bag and found a spot for Wolf Wilks near the window. It felt strangely comforting to be back. Forget the first day of school; camp always felt like the start to a new year—endless possibilities just waiting for her to grab them. Whether she chose to or not was irrelevant. They were there all the same.

  “Ladies,” Harper called out from the lawn. Rebel remembered her from last year. She came in with the new crop of counselors and made quite an impression with the staff. She played the part well, all sweet and outdoorsy, when in reality she was a total stoner and party girl who spent most of her time at her boyfriend Jessie’s cabin. Rebel didn’t care. It was great, actually. Harper didn’t hover and gave them all plenty of freedom.

  “Oh great, Lindsay Lohan is back,” Aubrey said, dragging her outside to join the group of girls on the lawn in front of their deck. “Think she’s drunk yet?”

  “Shhh.” Rebel elbowed her friend in the ribs. They did not need to get on Harper’s bad side on their first day.

  “Gather ’round, my beautiful flowers,” Harper told them. She wasn’t drunk, but she definitely looked hungover and possibly premenstrual by the way she was devouring a bag of king-size peanut M&Ms. “I’m Harper, and I’m in charge of all of you sweet, sweet angels.”

  She made them go around and say their names and the number of years they’d been coming to Pine Ridge. But she didn’t really listen—it was only a formality.

  “Good, good,” she said mid-yawn. “So let’s get this party started. I’ll show you all the ins and outs of the camp. Follow me.”

  The group followed as Harper led them toward the front office, while she enthusiastically waved and smiled at the staff. But once the adults were all out of sight, she went on giving them all the basics in her bored tone. She showed them the cafeteria, bathrooms, bonfire pit, arts and crafts hut, before trekking back to the girls’ cabins in record time. She missed the entire other half of camp, but Rebel wasn’t going to mention it—especially when H
arper was clearly ready for her afternoon nap.

  “That concludes your tour,” Harper told the campers. “I’m giving you my trust from the get-go, so let’s not fuck it up, all right?”

  Most of the girls were there last year for Harper’s speech. But there were a few newbies with their mouths hanging wide open. Rebel found that more than amusing.

  “Oh, we won’t,” Mallory chirped. “You can trust us.”

  Harper rolled her eyes. “Yeah, fine.” She stuffed a handful of candy in her mouth. “I just have three rules. #1: Be on time for your daily activities. #2: Keep your traps shut during quiet hours. #3: Pretend we like each other when the higher ups are in sight. I need this job. Got it?”

  “Got it,” they all sang in unison.

  “You have free time until dinner,” Harper added. “So, you know, do whatever.”

  And then she was gone.

  Classic.

  People then scattered and went about making plans for the beach or volleyball or taking their own naps before the evening festivities. She and Aubrey watched it all from their porch, but it wasn’t long before Justice became the topic of conversation again. Aubrey pulled out her binoculars and pointed them at the boys’ cabins.

  “Aww, he’s so cute,” she sighed. “Do we really have to kill him?”

  Rebel took the binocs from her friend and looked on as the image of Justice filled the lens. She ignored the way her body warmed at the simple sight of him. Yep, despite all the crap she went through in the last year, she did learn a few things along the way—like how to recognize trouble. And right now, trouble was on the other side of camp, wearing a ripped T-shirt and mala beads. That, in itself, spoke volumes.

  Didn’t matter. She’d never let a guy like that into her life again. Well, not in any significant way. Instead, she’d keep him exactly where he belonged, in the enemy zone.

  And she’d continue with her plan.

  Chapter Four

  Justice

  Justice joined the other guys for a quick orientation to get the lay of the land and other essential info, like mealtime and bathrooms, before getting their cabin assignments.