“Glitter,” Ashley explains with a giggle. “The kids must have stolen it from the arts tub and played a joke on Eric. That or Kyle did it. They’re such jerks to each other sometimes.”

Midway through a laugh, Kyle turns my way and I feel the shy smile curl my lips, memories of his mouth against mine still firmly emblazoned in my mind.

“See? He can’t keep his eyes off you! You’re like a magnet.”

“Stop!” I elbow her, but I’m grinning.

Kyle seems to pick up on the gist of our conversation because he reaches into a bowl of popcorn and tosses a kernel at us. It misses us entirely, pinning Christa in the head.

The soft strum of a guitar and laughter carries and the day’s warmth lingers in the air as Ashley and I approach the lake, our bathing suits on beneath our clothes. My campers were asleep before hers, leaving me to pace around the girls’ restroom, waiting for her to arrive. Christa didn’t say a word when I clambered down the steps and grabbed my things.

The way things are going, I doubt we’ll ever see eye-to-eye on anything.

People are already in the water, trading splashes, though it’s too dark to identify anything beyond a few silhouettes.

Someone has carried a metal firepit down and settled it in the sand. Flames now dance within it, toasting the marshmallows held close while illuminating the circle of faces that surrounds it. Avery and Maria sit on either side of Colin, seemingly lulled by his throaty voice as he sings the chorus to “Wonderwall” by Oasis.

“You guys coming in?” Eric calls out from somewhere in the lake. I can only assume Kyle is somewhere out there, too.

Ashley kicks off her sandals and drags her toes through the shoreline.

“It’s amazing. Get in here, Freckles!”

She sheds her clothes where she stands, earning a loud whistle of approval as she adjusts her green bikini bottoms. Wawa has a one-piece-only rule for swimming attire, one of the few dress code rules that Darian makes sure everyone adheres to. “Coming, Piper?”

I follow suit, a swirl of nervousness and excitement stirring in the pit of my stomach as I reveal my own prohibited two-piece—a simple but elegant black bikini that my friend Reid swears makes my breasts look twice as big.

I grit my teeth as we slowly wade in, though the temperature is more bearable now than it was earlier today, the contrast to the air less dramatic.

“Oh, this is nice!” Ashley skims the top of the water with her fingertips. “I love night swimming.”

I suck in a breath, bracing myself against the cold. “I don’t know if I’d go as far as to call it nice.” My skin is covered in gooseflesh.

The next few moments happen in a blur. Water churns and a dark figure charges at me, then I feel wet, strong arms wrap around my thighs and hoist me up.

“No!” I shriek as my body tips over Kyle’s shoulder. My fingers glide across his wet skin as I grasp for purchase on his bare back. He’s barreling forward, deeper into the lake, his hands gripping my hips tight, his intent clear. “Kyle, don’t you dare—”

He only lets go after my body is fully submerged.

“I hate you!” I sputter through my laughter, though I’m quickly warming to the temperature of the water.

“No you don’t,” he teases, lingering a few feet away, immersed to his neck.

My fingers itch to touch his bare skin. I glide toward him and he begins moving backward, just out of reach, drawing me out deeper and off to the right, away from Eric and Ashley and the others. He only stops when the water level sits at my shoulders and we’re alone. The sand feels weird out here. I scrunch my toes against the lake’s silky bottom.

“Hey.” He stoops in the water to meet me at eye level. His strong hands find my waist and he pulls me closer to him, fitting me in between his parted thighs.

“Hey.” My voice is a whisper as my fingers curl around his biceps, reveling in their shape and strength. My heart hammers inside my chest, memories of his pliable lips against mine last night flooding my mind, exploding my anticipation of a repeat.

“Did you like the movie tonight?” I ask.

“What movie?” He bows his head to settle his forehead against my temple, the tip of his slender nose grazing my cheek. “I wasn’t watching any movie.”

“It almost put me to sleep.” Lie. As if I could ever drift off with Kyle in the vicinity.

“You weren’t paying attention, either.” I hear a smirk in his voice.

“How would you know?”

His hand curls around to skate up my spine, stalling at the fastening of my bikini top, one finger casually slipping beneath it. “Because I was watching you.”

“That doesn’t sound creepy at all,” I tease.

He chuckles. “The way you look in this . . .” He slides one strap of my bikini top down and replaces it with his mouth, leaving a trail along my skin, hot against the cool air. I can’t tell if it’s the metal of his lip ring or just him that sends shivers through my body. “No wonder they don’t let counselors wear bikinis. My entire cabin would be hiding their hard-ons in the lake.”

“Oh my God! They’re like, twelve!” I cringe through my laugh.

“Exactly. Trust me. You wouldn’t believe the stuff they talk about.” He swallows hard and then, sliding the strap back in place, shifts away. “Sorry.”

“For what?”

He sighs. “I just don’t ever want you to think I’m pressuring you.”

Because of what I said about that pig Trevor the first night here.

I can’t help but laugh. If Kyle were Trevor, he’d have his tongue shoved down my throat and my top unfastened by now.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, a touch of wariness in his voice.

“Nothing. Just . . .” Kyle may have figured out that I’m a virgin, but I’m beginning to think he also assumes I’m entirely inexperienced. Beneath the water, I smooth my hands first over his chest, and then downward, admiring the cut of his lean torso. “I’m okay with this. With whatever.”

“With whatever?” I can’t see his face in the dark, but I can imagine his thick eyebrows arched with amusement.

I let my hand drift farther down, my palm flat as I slide it over the front of his shorts, enjoying the hard form against my palm a moment, letting him know that I’m not that delicate or inexperienced.

Kyle’s breathing wavers, and the sound of his swallow catches my ear. “Got it.” He cups my chin with his palm and leans in to kiss me—not as fervently as last night—before letting his hand slide down over my throat, across my collarbone, and farther, slipping beneath the water to skate over my breast. His touch is tentative at first, but it quickly turns confident as the pad of his thumb draws circles over the soft fabric of my bikini, over my pebbled nipple.

I grip his waist and wait for him to push the material aside, to slip his hand beneath, to feel his touch against my bare skin. Just the thought of it has heat pooling in my lower belly.

“All right, counselors! You’ve had your little bit of fun,” Darian’s voice suddenly calls out from the shoreline.

“Shit,” Kyle mutters, his hand stalling, his breathing ragged.