“Good. I’m relieved to hear that. I did some checking up on that boy you were with. Did you know his father and brothers are currently serving time in federal prison?”

“What?”

“Of course the little delinquent didn’t tell you,” he mutters. “His father’s a guard, my ass.”

He assumes my outburst was shock, and not outrage. I temper the accusation in my voice. “How’d you find that out?”

“I had my guy run the license plate off his car.” He admits it so casually, as if that’s a normal thing. “I had a bad feeling about him and, as usual, my gut was right. Those plates aren’t even valid.”

“I just . . . can’t . . .” I grit my teeth as tears of frustration threaten to spill. I can’t believe you would do that.

Kyle glances out the window then. He sees my face and frowns. Are you okay? he mouths.

I force a smile and nod, before turning away.

“Did you tell him who we are? Who I am?” my father asks.

“No. No one knows.” That, I can answer truthfully.

“Good. Because if he’s anything like his father, he’ll be trying to extort money from us before long. I have half a mind to call that camp director and report him.”

“Don’t! I mean . . .” I scramble to think of something to dissuade him, without letting on that I’ve ignored my father’s iron-willed wishes and am still very much with Kyle. In fact, I’ll be with Kyle all night tonight, if all goes as planned. His roommate, Shane, drove off right after Darian’s weekly star award meeting. “The kids like him, and he’s been staying away from me so far. Plus, if what you found out is true, then I’m sure he needs the money. At least he’s coming by it honestly.”

“Hmm . . . You’re right. Perhaps I’m too jaded.” He sighs heavily. “But you don’t get to where I am without dealing with your share of scammers and extortionists. I’ve been facing those kinds of people all my life. I’m not about to have my teenage daughter get taken advantage of by some punk.”

Because there’s no other reason why Kyle would want to be with me, right, Dad?

I could defend Kyle’s honor, but there’s no point. My father’s already made up his mind about him, and clearly the power of money comes before the heart. I swallow the bitter taste in my mouth. “Don’t worry, he’s already moved on to another girl,” I add, piling on the lies.

“Not surprised. A guy like him wouldn’t have any idea how lucky he is to earn a second of attention from you.”

I’m the luckiest guy in the world right now.

Oh, he knows, Dad. I feel the vindictive smile curl my lips. And he’s going to know a whole lot more after tonight.

“Just keep details about our family to yourself and if he tries anything, you call me right away. I’ll deal with him.”

“I will. Thanks, Dad. Love you.” My voice comes out cold and hard.

“Love you, too. See you in five weeks, is it?”

“Yup.” I end the call.

“So who am I with now? Please tell me it’s the Gasoline Queen.”

I spin around to find Kyle standing behind me.

He gives me a sheepish grin. “Sorry . . . I saw your face and I was worried, so I came out. Didn’t mean to listen in.”

“It’s okay.”

He slides his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Everything all right with your dad?”

“Yeah, just . . . It’s nothing.”

He hesitates. “But you were talking about us.”

I sigh. Kyle is the one person I don’t want to lie to. “My dad is intense,” I begin.

His eyebrow arches knowingly. “Yeah, I got that.”

“He ran your license plate. Or he had his guy do it, anyway.”

Kyle’s head falls back with a groan. “My brother’s name would have come up.”

“It did, and now he knows about him, and your other brother. And your dad . . .”

Kyle curses under his breath. “I have to say, he brings new meaning to the word overprotective.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t think he’d do something like that, either. But you don’t know him. You don’t know who he is.” I hesitate, my father’s voice ringing in my ear, explicitly warning me not to do what I’m about to do. “My father is—”

“Don’t.” Kyle’s hands go up in the air, stopping me. “I don’t want to know, Piper. Seriously. Look, I’m not clueless; I’m not gonna pretend that I am. But I like that it’s just been you and me here, not your rich parents or my shitty ones. We’ve been just us, together. And it’s worked.” His brow wrinkles, an earnest—almost pleading—look filling his eyes. “Can we please just keep it like that?”

I nod. “Yeah. For sure.” My father is so wrong about Kyle.

“Good.” He reaches for me, taking both my hands into his, pulling me closer. “I don’t care if your dad is a freaking king of some remote country.”

I laugh. “He’s not a king—”

Kyle stops my words with a kiss. “I told you. I don’t want to know. Now, can you please come inside and distract me from Eric’s disgusting peanut butter burger?”

I cringe. “You’re kidding.”

Kyle gives me a flat look. “I wish.”

The sun is minutes from dropping below the horizon when we pull into Wawa’s parking lot.

Eric groans as he climbs out of the backseat of Kyle’s car, capping it off with an exaggerated stretch, the grease-coated paper bag from Tony’s that holds a second peanut-butter-and-bacon burger dangling from his fingertips. “It’s a freaking ghost town around here,” he murmurs, surveying the silent campground. Several of the counselors have taken off for the night—either to go home or elsewhere, needing an escape from Wawa after three weeks straight. The rest are in hiding. Likely sleeping.

“I think Wade said he was going to start up a fire by the lake.” Ashley scoops her frizzy hair into a ponytail and secures it with an elastic.

“Good. Come on, Freckles.” Eric hooks an arm around her neck and leads her toward the gravel path that will take them to the beach. “Meet you guys there?”

Kyle’s eyes graze over mine. “Yeah. In a bit.”

“Oh, right. Shane’s gone tonight. Gotcha. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Eric tosses over his shoulder.

Meanwhile Ashley grins mischievously at me, giving me a thumbs-up sign.

My cheeks begin to burn. Great. Everyone will have heard about this by the morning.

“Don’t forget, you’re still on probation,” Kyle throws back.

Eric waves it away. “It’s Saturday! No curfew tonight!”

Kyle sighs, passing me the bag of snacks I picked up at the local grocery store at a fraction of the price of the canteen, before pulling me into his arms. “You need anything at your cabin first?”

“Nope.”

He leans down to set his forehead against mine. “So . . . you want to head to mine, then?” he asks softly.

It’s been a week of heated glances and teasing touches while in passing. A week of ten o’clock curfews and restless nights, anticipating tonight.