by Dawn Klehr
“Hey, bro,” the kid from the bus called out when Justice walked into his designated cabin. The kid also removed his bag from the bottom bunk and threw it up to the top.
In such a short time, Justice had become used to the respect, or fear, that came from most other guys. He rarely had to ask for much. Like this poor sap automatically giving up his bed for him.
“So, you know Rebel Hart?” The kid brushed his long bangs off his forehead.
“Yeah, I know her,” Justice said, pulling the bag back down from the bed. “Here”—he held it out—“you don’t have to move.”
“Actually, I do. I’m not sure the top bunk can support your weight. And, no offense, I don’t want to be underneath when we find out.”
All right then, so much for the respect thing.
“Fair enough,” he said with a smile, wishing he’d paid attention to the kid’s name. There was something about him that put Justice at ease.
The kid tossed his bag up to the top bunk again, while Justice unloaded his own stuff. “Do you mind if I keep these under your bed though?” the kid asked, pointing to the set of free weights on the floor.
“No problem,” he said, trying not to make a big deal out of it. If he had to guess, the skinny dude was going to be a freshman—just about the age Justice had started to fill out. Thankfully, the Brodys lived in Wisconsin when it happened, so Justice’s transformation was nearly complete before his family moved to Atlanta. Nobody at school knew that he was just like this kid a few years ago, and he remembered all too well what it felt like.
Or, he was like the kid with the exception of his arm. Yeah, even when he was at his most awkward, he could always throw a ball.
“Move it, Elijah.” A guy from the other side of the room practically ran the kid over when he joined them. Okay, at least now Justice knew his name. “The grown-ups need to talk.”
Justice felt his jaw pulse once he saw the guy’s face. God, no. Anyone but him.
“Rebel’s here?” he continued, cracking his neck on each side. This was the type of guy who gave athletes a bad name.
“This steroid case is Grayson,” Elijah said with a hand over his mouth, even though he didn’t lower his voice.
So he was a bit of a smartass. Justice liked that.
Grayson pointed a finger at him in warning, and Elijah retreated to the top bunk. It turned Justice’s stomach to see the kid cower, and he vowed right then and there to help him with his weight training. The guy needed all the help he could get. Plus, Justice could use some help with his own football drills this summer. Seeing Grayson reminded him that he couldn’t let this time away from practice slow down his progress, so he planned to work out every day.
“Yeah, I know,” he said.
“We go to the same school, idiot,” Grayson added, as if there were a certain camaraderie between the two of them because they both obviously knew their way around a gym.
There wasn’t. Justice would rather hang out with the skinny kid any day of the week.
Grayson was booted off the football team the year before, because he couldn’t keep his grades up. His new sport was being the school asshole. But that wasn’t the half of it. Grayson Wright was also his coach’s son—obviously here to keep an eye on him. Which meant that it was Coach, not Trevor, who convinced his dad to send him to camp.
“You gotta hook me up with Rebel,” Gray said. “I’ve been trying to get with that fine piece since she first filled out, if you know what I mean.”
Justice shifted his feet, feeling his blood begin a slow simmer under his skin. If he hadn’t been on probation with the team, he’d have flattened him the second he’d said, hook me up. Whether Gray was at risk of going into a ’roid rage or not, he didn’t give a rip.
“I do know what you mean,” Justice said through gritted teeth. “And no, I’m not going to hook you up. Not a chance.” It wasn’t exactly a wise tone to take with Gray when he was supposed to be all easy and breezy for the next month. Yep, this was going to be harder than he thought.
“What a dick,” Grayson muttered and went back to unpacking.
“Let’s go throw the ball around, Eli,” Justice said. If they were going to be hanging out, Elijah needed a name that rolled off the tongue a little better.
He snagged his football out of his bag and walked out of the cabin. Eli followed, letting the screen door slam shut.
“Eli?” Elijah asked once they made it onto the open space in front of the lake.
“Yeah, as in Eli Manning. Trust me, that will play much better with the girls.” He palmed the football in his hand, spun it to the laces, and gripped. The hold on the ball was the only thing he was sure of most days. It was the only thing he could really control. And it always calmed him, no matter what was going on off the field.
“Okay, I like it,” Eli said, holding out his hands for the ball.
Justice pointed to the left, and Eli ran. Now this was going to be interesting. But when he released the ball, the kid followed. Not only followed, he caught it easily, cupping his hands and tucking it close to his body when he had control.
“Nice,” he hollered.
“Yeah, I used to play catch with my grandad,” Eli yelled back. “Haven’t played in a long time though.”
That wasn’t a problem. He could work with it.
For the next fifteen minutes, the two played catch. Megan even stopped by to watch. He made Eli go long a few times, and the kid reminded him so much of himself, he needed to know if he could really bring it.
“Now me,” he said, “give ‘er.” Eli nodded, pointing to where he planned on placing it.
Justice took off, and Eli cranked his arm back and released. He got to the spot in perfect time to catch and cradle the ball. He was right; the kid had a rocket of an arm. Add some more lean muscle, and he’d have a chance at making a team. Better yet, he’d definitely be able to throw a punch so he didn’t have to cower from idiots like Grayson anymore.
Eli took another shot at QB. This time the pass was a little skewed, sailing more to the left, but that was okay. Justice would catch up to it. Despite the obstacle in his way—the girl in the red flannel, for example. He was moving too fast to come to a complete stop before he reached her. It’d be a collision for sure, and despite his current feelings, he’d never hurt her.
He raced toward her, about two strides away with the ball almost within reach.
Justice extended his left arm out to scoop up Rebel, and lifted his right hand above his head for the ball. The high-pitch squealing in his ear and clapping from the people nearby told him he got both. He brought his hand into his chest to secure the ball, before daring to look at the pissed-off package he was holding in his left arm.
He couldn’t deny how good she felt tucked against him, all soft and warm. Her winter scent clouded his senses. Dang, she smelled like a flipping s’more, and he loved s’mores.
“Let me down, you brute.” Rebel slapped at his arm once they slowed to a stop.
His distraction allowed her to shift her body in his grip and go on the attack. Fine. He was ready to do as she asked and let her go, even though something inside begged him not to. But she was safe now, protected. Not that she appreciated it.
Then she had to go and open her mouth again.
“Why don’t you go play with your balls in private?” she said, squirming in his hold. “Or are you such an attention whore that you need an audience for everything?”
An evil thought crossed his mind. And as Rebel continued to suffer from diarrhea of the mouth, jabbering on and on, his decision was made. He would not engage in her insults or get all pissed about it. He’d stay happy and drama-free.
Okay, Rebel, you want to play like that?
He dropped the ball, flipped her up into a cradle position so she was now balanced in both of his arms, and proceeded to run at top speed.
To the very edge of the dock.
She had no choice but to hold on, clinging to him like a koala bear, wh
ich made his body heat. When he finally stopped and looked down at her, something flashed in her eyes. Irritation, more than likely. Whatever it was reminded him that he needed some freaking control over the situation, maybe even a little payback. So in the next moment, he reluctantly peeled her off his body and dangled her slight frame over the water.
“Oooh,” a group of twelve-year-old boys sang. “You’re going to get wrecked, Rebel.”
“Not if you guys grab his arms and take him down,” she said in a flirty voice, as she tried to make eye contact with the kids. “Come on, who’s going to be my hero?”
He decided that he was…just not today.
It was the wrong age group for Rebel to work her magic. It may have worked on Eli or Gray, but these boys? Their balls hadn’t even dropped yet.
“What do you think, fellas?” He egged them on. “Should we see if she can float?”
The boys hooted and howled, like the little animals they were.
“Do it, do it, do it,” they chanted.
It was too easy.
“I hate you all.” Rebel flipped them off. “And you, too”—she batted at his arms—“I don’t swim.”
He looked around at the people in the water. Even if she were telling the truth, which he seriously doubted, the water was only about chest deep. She’d be fine.
“I’m serious, let me go!”
There was no fighting her any longer, so he did as she asked, and let her go…right into the lake.
Chapter Five
Survival Tip #13
“Patience can make the difference between life and death, so don’t be stupid.”
Rebel
Why’d he have to go and touch her? Hold her? Get so dang close?
These were the senseless questions racing through Rebel’s mind as she washed the lake grime off her body in the shower—her oversensitive body that had been manhandled by that annoying man-boy.
Not only did he have the nerve to pick her up during what she was pretty sure was an amazing catch, he had to make a spectacle of it for all to see. She worried it made her look helpless and weak, but even more concerning was the fact that she kinda enjoyed it. He was not her type, so why did he have this effect on her?
She’d been watching him toss the ball around with Elijah and got all misty. It was so sappy, but she couldn’t help it. She’d been at camp with the scrawny boy for years and never saw him hanging out with the guys. And Justice acted like it was the most normal thing in the world. He had no idea how significant it was. Elijah walked a little taller, smiled a little bigger, and shocked the hell out of her when he caught the ball. It did something to her, that simple gesture, and it made her chest squeeze.
Rebel forced herself to look away when Mallory, Zoe, and Megan took a seat on the sidelines. She would not be one of those girls who had nothing else better to do than cheer on the boys. Ever.
But then Elijah started throwing to Justice, and she had a whole different sort of reaction. Her cheeks warmed, and she’d forgotten how to breathe. Justice Brody was impressive. He was so graceful when he moved, quick and light on his feet. Every muscle in his legs flexed with each stride. And that wasn’t the half of it. Not even close. The guy also had the perfect butt. There was no denying it. Like, you could bounce quarters off it…or basketballs. Seriously, it was ridiculous.
So she stood behind him for minutes, hours, she couldn’t be sure. It was that little perv session that put her in his line of fire, and the next thing she knew, her feet were lifted from the ground, and she was hanging over his arm. She grew all tingly just from the thought of it.
“So,” Aubrey said from the other side of the stall, and Rebel screamed before practically peeing in the shower. “What’s your plan?”
“What?” Rebel rested her head on the wall, trying to slow her heart rate. “What are you talking about, and what are you doing in here?”
“Checking on you.” She opened the shower door and winked. The girl really had no boundaries. “And wondering about our plan of attack. I imagine you want to do something water-related in retaliation for the lake thing? Or are we still trying to get the other girls to believe he has an STD? I did bring some itching powder we could put in his boxer briefs. That would do the trick.”
Plan? That jerked Rebel right back into reality. She turned off the shower, wrapped herself in a towel, and walked with Aubrey into the changing area. She’d been so concerned about her reaction to the barbarian, and how she actually needed that dip in the lake to cool the hell off. But she hadn’t even considered the way to get him back. What was wrong with her?
On the drive to camp, she’d come up with about ten good pranks to make him uncomfortable. She’d come up with ten more ways to help him strike out with the girls. But this first move had to be tit-for-tat, like Aubrey suggested. Retribution for her impromptu baptism.
Yes, she was happy to say, she was reborn and ready.
It was time to stop thinking about Justice in any way other than the enemy. No drooling over his skin or arms or his flipping butt, for crying out loud. She was on a mission: payback. Yet there was something she needed to know.
“How do you know he wears boxer briefs?” she asked her friend, as she sat on the bench and toweled off her hair.
“How would I not know? Are you new here?”
Rebel laughed and shook her head. Aubrey really did know everything.
“So, what about Justice?” Aubrey asked, rubbing her hands together.
Yes, eye on the prize. Thank you, Aubrey.
“Okay, I do have an idea,” Rebel said. “Let’s give it a few days and then welcome him to camp the old-fashioned way.”
…
Justice
“She seemed okay, didn’t she?” he asked Eli as they walked to the campfire. “She told me she couldn’t swim, but I thought she was just messing with me.”
“Are you still talking about Rebel?” Eli rolled his inhaler between his fingers, though he hadn’t taken a hit off it in hours.
“Who else?” Justice barked. It came out harsher than he meant it to, but she wasn’t at the all-camp welcome, and she missed dinner. His stomach turned thinking he might be the cause, but shit, he shouldn’t be taking that out on Eli of all people.
“Right.” Eli put his mouth to the inhaler and breathed deep. “She’s fine. The water was waist-deep, and she seemed to walk or storm out of the lake without a problem. I don’t think you need to sweat it.”
Oh, he was sweating it all right. But what could he do? Go to her cabin and check on her? Yeah, that’d go over like a turd in a punch bowl. Rebel wouldn’t give him an inch.
They continued following the voices to the fire pit, and he strained to make out one voice in particular. So far, no luck.
As they got closer, things began looking up. Turned out he couldn’t hear Rebel’s voice, because she wasn’t talking. She was listening…to three of the little kids telling her about their summer. They all sat on logs near the large flame, glowing in the firelight. Rebel was the brightest. She was okay. He was relieved and anxious all at the same time.
“See?” Eli said. “She’s fine.”
They joined a bunch of guys on the other side of the bonfire. The small groups were divided for the most part—boys here, girls there. But he knew that wouldn’t last long. Never did. Not that he cared anyway. He was too busy willing Rebel to look up.
Now, a bigger man would’ve walked over and talked to her, cleared the air, made sure there were no hard feelings. Hell, a bigger man would’ve approach her just for a better look. Sadly, he was no such man.
“Rebel, Rebel, Rebel.” The kids interrupted each other, vying for her attention. She held up a finger to the anxious boy while the girl finished her story. He couldn’t help but smile. She was really sweet with them. But mostly, he was happy that she was okay.
And then, suddenly, his Jedi mind tricks began to work. She pulled her attention from the kids and glanced over at him. Without thinking, he held up hi
s hand, a wave of truce or hello, he wasn’t sure. It made no difference, because she just turned away.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“Dude, let’s go.” Eli nudged him, breaking her spell.
In the time that he’d been watching Rebel, Zoe, Mallory, and Megan had joined them. Yeah, he knew it wouldn’t take long to mix company. And Grayson and Zoe were now leading them away from the bonfire. It was probably just as well. Rebel clearly didn’t want him around, and he could use the distraction.
They set off, roaming the camp, and he dropped to the back of the pack. Megan slowed to his pace, walking so close to him that the bare skin of her arm grazed his. Rebel’s little trick earlier didn’t seem to affect Megan in the least. She didn’t have any issue being near him, or touching his arm or chest whenever she had the chance. Good to know. Too bad there was no zing between them. But she did offer the inside scoop on each point of interest, information that could come in handy over the next month.
“You know we usually don’t see guys like you at camp.” She slowed her pace a little more, putting even more space between them and the group.
“What do you mean?” he asked reluctantly. He almost didn’t want to know the answer.
“Popular, athletic types,” she added, squeezing his bicep to further illustrate her point. If she only knew. Yet as they walked and joked around, he felt like the guy she thought he was.
She giggled. She did a lot of that in fact. It was…sorta nice. She was nice. Simple. Easy to hang out with. Exactly what his summer was supposed to be about.
“And these are the volleyball courts.” She giggled again.
“Okay?” he said, wondering about the significance.
“The courts,” Megan explained, “are where people come to hook up.”
Ah, the courts. Now Rebel’s words earlier made sense. She wanted to warn the girls off so he couldn’t take anyone here. Why? He thought of all the possible answers as Megan blathered on. But he kept coming to the same conclusion. Maybe she didn’t want him to take anyone here because she was jealous. His skin buzzed at the thought.