Never Let Go: Top Shelf Romance Collection 6

by Steiner, Kandi

  Keith deadpanned, “You hate people. You’ll hate them.”

  I hated him.

  And I wanted to ask if a hot air balloon could ever use cold air instead.

  I raked a hand through my hair. “Okay, then.” I punched Trent’s shoulder. “Help me move in?”

  “Uh.” I didn’t miss the way his eyes returned to Keith. “I need to go over my talk.”

  Right. Because he’d been asked to come here. I had been foisted on the camp. Got it. I swung around to Keith.

  “So where’s the rest?”

  I knew Owen and Hadley from our group had moved back from when I was still on the email chain. Even though I never replied, I’d been happy for them. Owen’s dream was to run this place. Though evidently he hadn’t gotten there yet.

  Trent flashed me a grin, ducking out into the hallway.

  It was just Keith and me. This was a scene in one of my nightmares, but Keith didn’t seem disturbed. He had sat down behind his desk and started going through some papers.

  “They’re around,” he said, distracted.

  I saluted him. “Way to be helpful.”

  I picked up one of my bags and started for the door. Apparently, I needed to de-fish a fishing cabin.

  I took two steps to the door and heard, “And Charlie?”

  My heart sank. I didn’t look back.

  “You’re looking real good. You’ve not let yourself go.”

  I looked now, glaring, and he smirked. He never gave a shit. Well, neither would I now, and I extended my hand, my middle finger very prominent as I waved it at him.

  “Fuck off, Keith. Fuck off.”

  I left, his smug laughter trailing behind me.

  “Always the joker, Charlie.”

  Owen was always the most responsible, kindest, and organized of our entire group. He probably would’ve earned a promotion a long time ago. Maybe I’d be proactive in helping him get that promotion.

  A lot proactive. Keith had to go.

  Chapter 4

  The trail to the fishing cabin wasn’t very big, just wide enough for my car to fit. Barely. Tree branches scraped the side, but I had to prioritize: save my already-piece-of-crap car from maybe one or two scratches or save myself a broken back from carrying all of my stuff on foot.

  After further thought, I reprioritized and grabbed one of the golf carts the camp used. I was fairly certain I needed to sign a whole other form to be allowed to drive one of them, but that was Keith’s fault. That was my rationale. If he hadn’t been such a dick, I might’ve gone through the appropriate channels, which would’ve meant getting one of the maintenance guys to drive me. But I knew who that would’ve been, and that was another history hill I didn’t want to climb. Not yet, anyway.

  When I arrived, a station wagon was already there, the back end opened up, matching the windows and the two doors to the cabin, which were also propped open.

  And as I walked in through the side door, a voice blared from the bathroom, “Did someone let the dogs out?”

  Another voice chimed in, “Woof! Woof!”

  I found Owen dancing in the living room, a purple bandana on his head, tied at the base of his neck. He wore an old camp staff shirt. It was faded in patches and ripped at the sleeves. He threw his head back, his mouth forming to howl at the next words, and he jumped backward on one foot. Eyes closed, he stopped and did a full-body twirl, a purple feather duster in his hand.

  He wasn’t alone.

  Hadley came dancing in to join him from the bathroom.

  She’d been a petite thing back then, and she still was, but she didn’t dance like it.

  Baggy jeans rode low on her hips with the legs rolled at her ankles, ’80s-style. She had a shirt hanging off her, with the sleeves cut off and the ends rolled and stuffed under her sports bra straps. Both had gone with the purple theme today—even Hadley’s hair ties were purple at the end of her two French braids.

  Her eyes were closed, her hand in the air, her head down, and she was doing a running-man-inspired dance. Her feet were pumping as she inched toward her man, one bounce at a time. When she stopped feeling the hand in the air, she put both in front of her and started doing a jig, kicking her feet out to the side.

  This.

  These two people. This dancing. Knowing that when I made myself known to them, they wouldn’t be embarrassed. They might turn the music up and dance around me in circles.

  I had missed this too.

  The song changed, and a slow bass began—Eminem’s “Ass Like That.” As one person, they jumped toward each other. Hadley leapt high enough to turn all the way around, her ass doing its own dance.

  Owen crouched around her, pretending to frame her booty like he was a photographer giving his model instructions.

  Then he looked up, and his mouth dropped.

  Hadley continued popping it with the rhythm, then leaned back and pretended to slap someone’s ass in front of her. When she backed into Owen and realized he had stopped, she looked up.

  Her mouth dropped too.

  I waved. “If you’re having a dance-off, is there a way to cheat?”

  They paused. One second.

  “Charlie!” Hadley screeched.

  Owen offered his own awkward wave. “Hey, Charlie.”

  She launched herself at me. I hadn’t seen this woman in eight years, but that didn’t matter. She leap-frogged and stuck to me like a window suction animal—legs around my waist, arms around my shoulders, and she climbed up, settling into a better position.

  I reacted on instinct, grabbing her so she didn’t pull us both down.

  That’s how my hand landed on her ass, and she wiggled it, mewing into my neck. “Aw, she’s missed us too, D. And there’s no cheating in a dance-off.”

  “Whoa.” I hugged her tight. “Okay. Extrapolate.”

  She laughed, letting go and standing on her feet again.

  Owen moved up behind her, a protective hand coming to her shoulder as they perused me.

  These people.

  We were all in our late twenties. I knew these two had a kid, maybe two by now, but they looked like they were still in their teens. It was the camp air. Had to be the camp air, all fresh and no toxins. What kind of animals enjoyed breathing that stuff?

  “I’m hoping the D stands for Owen.” I wasn’t sure if I wanted to pose that as a question.

  Owen’s tanned cheeks flushed, so yep. Got my answer.

  “Okay. Hug time.” I pointed at D. “If you leap-frog at me, you’re going to hit air.”

  He laughed, came forward to hug me briefly before Hadley squeezed me tight again. She rocked me left and right. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  Owen motioned around the cabin, taking his bandana off his head. “We were trying to help clear it out for you.” Hadley stepped to his side, and his arm slid around her waist. They were two pieces of a puzzle coming together.

  “We heard what Keith did to you,” he added.

  Hadley grimaced. “What a jerk.”

  I grunted. “You’re telling me.” I studied Owen. “How do you do it? Work with him all these years?”

  He shifted, rolling his shoulder. I’d forgotten he did that. An old car accident had messed up his back. He shook his head. “It is what it is. It’s only been two years, though.”

  “Oh.” Crap. I’d forgotten that part too. They’d come here because her parents died. The Managing Director position opened at camp, and they wanted to leave her hometown.

  I wasn’t sure what to do now: ’fess up, apologize, or change the subject like an asshole.

  “Why isn’t it Dragons and Dungeons?”

  They frowned at me.

  I smiled and pretended to swing a bat. “Look at that.” I was committed here. I pretended to hit a ball, and I pointed, showing the high arch it would’ve taken, whistling in appreciation. “Home run with that subject change, huh? Am I right?”

  Owen laughed, but it was weak. He was humoring me.

  Hadley’s face
tightened, and I saw hurt flare for a moment.

  Asshole: me.

  Genuine friend: her.

  “I’m sorry. I… Yeah. Eight years, huh?” A nervous laugh escaped me, and for whatever reason, they both seemed to soften.

  A sad smile lingered on Hadley’s face and her hands caught mine, squeezing. “It’s been too long, if you ask me.”

  Owen’s smile loosened up, and just like that, these two saints forgave me.

  “Trent said you’re writing a book while you’re here?”

  It was ten minutes later when Owen asked from the couch, after they’d both helped bring all my stuff inside.

  A quick recap: they’d offered. I said no. They ignored me and walked ahead of me to my car.

  Saints, I tell you.

  Despicable.

  “Uh, yeah. Sorta.” Holy crap, did I not want to talk about that project. “It’s more of an excuse to come back here for a bit. I’m manning the gym courts?”

  Hadley leaned back, pulling her feet up on the edge of the couch and hugging her knees to her chest. As she checked out, Owen checked in.

  Leaning forward, he grew serious. “Yeah. You’ve done it before, but it’ll be longer hours. That’s why Keith wanted one person just to handle the gym. You need to have it open every morning at five—”

  Cue my choking on an invisible ball.

  Five? In the morning? When I was at camp?

  Nuts. They were all nuts.

  I was back to hissing at Keith in my head.

  “—get whatever they need, but they’ll have their own trainers here too. Keith wants you to keep a daily list of all our equipment so nothing gets taken back to the cabins—”

  I nodded.

  When things left with the campers, even if they went to their cabin, the chances of getting them back were small. There was usually a Thursday night cabin raid every week. It was disguised as a camp-wide activity, but it was really to help us snoop and grab whatever had been taken from the facilities.

  “—Mary and Grant will help keep everything clean, but you know, help them out with that, and then you’ll close the courts at midnight too.”

  Midnight. Five am to midnight. I’d have no life. Or bathroom breaks.

  I groaned. “This isn’t legal. Keith’s not paying me enough for those hours.”

  Owen grinned, leaning back next to Hadley. He stuck his foot up, resting it on the coffee table. “You can close it during meals, and I’m sure the campers won’t always be there.”

  Speaking of, I still didn’t know who was coming. I opened my mouth to ask, but we heard a shout from outside.

  “Yo! Charlie.” The screen door pushed open and Trent came inside. “It doesn’t smell that ba—”

  He saw Owen and Hadley, and I braced myself for Hadley to leap-frog over me. She didn’t. She stayed put, just smiling at Trent as both she and Owen said their hellos.

  “Hey, guys.” Trent chuckled, crossing to sit in the last open chair in the small room. An old fishing net hung above him with three light bulbs in the middle like a chandelier. He looked up, saw it, and cursed. “I forgot how kooky this place was.”

  Hadley laughed. “There’s an old reel by the toilet. It holds the toilet paper now.”

  I smiled. Yeah, the place was odd and quirky, but there were good parts—the view outside the front door with the lake right there, the entire side wall covered in old hooks to hang things from. I saw a line of crystal lights strung through them, and I would bet money Keith had never done that before.

  Trent and Owen and Hadley caught up for the next thirty minutes, but after a while, everyone fell silent. It was as if they’d rehearsed it, because all three turned to me, waiting, silent.

  It was my turn.

  I felt the back of my neck heating up. I felt bad for not sharing, but I couldn’t do what they wanted. There were no words to describe what I’d gone through, so instead, I threw Newt under the bus.

  “Before this, I was informed I’d been dumped by my recent ex’s grandpa, then propositioned in the same sentence.”

  I waited.

  Owen frowned.

  Hadley blinked a few times.

  Trent merely smiled.

  “Uh—what?”

  I nodded at Owen, who spoke for Hadley. “He offered to pop in his teeth if I wanted some revenge sex. I turned him down.”

  Hadley’s mouth was now hanging open. For the booty shaker she was, I had blown her mind.

  Oh yeah. “And I was fired, so ta-da. You’re all caught up with me. When’s dinner? Is Betty working back there still?”

  “Wait.” Hadley’s eyebrows bunched together. She lowered her feet and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. Scooting to the edge of the couch, she asked, “A recent ex? As in Dam—”

  “Oh.” I waved that off. “That’s old news. This was a new guy, but again, I think the grandpa part was the most traumatizing point of that story. And we’re here, so everything’s good now.”

  I wanted to run.

  It wasn’t the best way to end a conversation. It wasn’t even a polite way. In fact, it was probably rude and awkward, but in my state, it was the best I could do. So there I was, pretending I wasn’t there, and they were all staring at me, because…I was there.

  This wasn’t working.

  I cleared my throat. “About Betty…”

  “Oh. Uh.” Owen took the bait, always the respectful one. “No, actually she isn’t here either. She and Helen are off-island. Keith and Trent are handling the welcome reception tonight, but we’re in the kitchen for the weekend.”

  “Just you guys? How many people are coming for this three-week thing?”

  “Maybe around thirty?” Owen seemed to be asking Hadley.

  She shrugged.

  “I think that’s right,” Trent said. “Yeah. Plus their extra staff.”

  I did the math, which surprised even me. “So, what? That’s, like, forty people you have to feed? Forty-two, adding Mary and—”

  “Well, only half the staff is here, but yeah. We’re twelve total.”

  “You guys are taking care of all of them?”

  Hadley shrugged, getting comfortable on the couch again. “We’ll be fine. You fed two hundred people alone one time, remember?”

  Shit. I had. “We’re lucky I didn’t burn down the main lounge.”

  That had all of them laughing, remembering when the grill caught fire. Keith had moved me out of the kitchen after that. I’d gone back to the camping staff personnel team. I think everyone was relieved, particularly the firemen from town. The fire captain came out once after that for an event, and when he saw me in the kitchen, I swear he paled.

  I’d thought he was getting the flu and told everyone we were going to get sick. They’d stocked up on antibacterial soap and hand sanitizer and thought that’s what had stopped it from happening. Nope. It’d probably been that the fire captain was not contagious, just terrified of me.

  I shouldn’t have felt some pride about that, but I did.

  My power to instill fear was legendary. Except with Keith.

  Boo, hiss.

  “Wait!” I shot my hands out, remembering to ask. “Who are the campers for this thing?”

  Chapter 5

  They wouldn’t tell me.

  They laughed at me, so I kicked them out.

  Full disclosure: the real reason was because I wanted to take a nap. The day had already gotten long with the waking up after dancing and boozing, then the driving after dancing/boozing, and then the whole dealing with Keith. But seeing Owen and Hadley, sitting and talking a bit, had been nice. It was good.

  It felt normal.

  And I needed normal, especially after waking up from my nap.

  I’d been dreaming that Newt was chasing me, threatening to smack my ass with his dentures. Behind him, Trent was dancing with Owen and Hadley, and Keith was the DJ. I didn’t know if we were in a nightclub, but whatever it was, it was horrifying. I kept running from Newt, and Keith was
always there. I couldn’t get away from either of them.

  I had chills when I crawled out of bed, until I saw the time.

  I had five minutes.

  There was a strict late rule when it came to meals at camp. If you weren’t there on time, you didn’t eat. That was it. This was for staff, not campers. Those guys could stroll in forty-five minutes late, and it’d be fine, but if staff was a minute late, no food for you.

  After cleaning up a little—traveling had a smell—I grabbed my sneakers and tore down the walking path with the most direct line to the main lodge. It connected to another path, so I had to veer to the right halfway there. As I did, I was already thinking of ways to make a straight path just for me. I doubted the board would allow it, so I was going rogue.

  Call me Camp Badass.

  My stomach growled, and I kicked up my speed.

  I burst through the front doors, expecting the cafeteria to be busy with activity.

  There was nothing. No one. Not a peep.

  I skidded to a halt.

  The good news: I could still eat and not have to sneak a plate somehow.

  The bad news: we were still eating, right?

  “Hello?”

  The office door was closed so I passed it, going into the cafeteria. On one side of the large room was the kitchen. Campers would line up, grab a tray, and go through the line. They’d grab their drinks, stop so the kitchen staff would hand out food, then move farther down the line for the rest of the meal.

  This three-week thing didn’t seem full, with only forty people to feed, so I wasn’t surprised to see only a few tables set up. The back half of the room had been left open for an indoor gym, the carpeting rolled back to reveal a hardwood basketball court. Sometimes a volleyball net was strung up, or a stage could be pulled out from the wall if there was a show going on during the meals.

  The gym area had its lights on, but the table area was dark.

  I saw lights on the other side of the kitchen, though the sliding wall was still pulled down. It was locked at night so no one could sneak into the kitchen, but it was lifted during the serving times. The fact it was still down said that they weren’t expecting anyone immediately; otherwise everything would be out and uncovered.