Bookishly Ever After (Ever After #1)(69)

We finished handing out the blindfolds to our campers and I turned to give the extras to Mrs. Forrester. She took all of them except for one. “You two also need a blindfold.”

I exchanged a glance with Dev, whose frown mirrored mine. “Aren’t we supposed to make sure the kids don’t walk each other into trees or something?”

“There aren’t that many people in this group. Mr. Hamm and I can take care of that part. And you’ll get a chance to try this, too. It’s a fun experience.”

Fun? I mouthed at Dev, who made a face when Mrs. Forrester’s back was to us.

“Besides,” Forrester continued, nudging us into line behind the already blindfolded and laughing campers, “it’s not like the two of you should worry. You don’t seem to have trust issues.” She moved on to the front of the line, pausing along the way to check blindfolds.

“I doubt they’re making the other counselors do this,” I said, twisting the blindfold.

“Probably because we’re special.” Dev took the blindfold from me and balanced it in his hand. He bounced on his heels while looking into dark forest path ahead of us. “Ladies first?”

“Thanks,” I said, dryly. I turned around and he slipped the blindfold over my eyes. His fingers gently moved through my hair to keep it from getting tied into the fabric and I hoped he didn’t hear the catch in my breath. The heat from his body left as he stepped away and, for a second, a little bit of panic rose up in me. My hands reflexively went up to the edge of the blindfold. “Frak. I don’t think I like this.”

And then the heat returned, one hand grabbing mine and bringing it down to my waist and an arm wrapped around me so that another hand was on my opposite shoulder. “It’s okay. I got you.”

“I swear to God, Dev, if you walk me into a tree, I’ll guide you straight into the lake on your turn.”

“If I make it a small tree, will you make it a stream instead?” He laughed close to my ear and I turned in the direction of his heat and his voice to give him a piece of my mind.

But Mrs. Forrester’s voice kept me from answering. “Okay, campers and counselors,” at “counselors,” I could hear the giggles of a few of the girls from my cabin. “No cheating with the blindfolds. The purpose of this game is to learn to trust your fellow classmates. Blindfoldees, follow the lead you’re given. Guides, remember—your turn is next. We’re going halfway around the lake for the first group and then we’re switching and finishing up right back here with the second group.”

“Around the lake?” I asked softly in the general Dev direction. “That’s a lot of walking.” I did not like the thought of not having control for that long.

Dev leaned so close that his breath tickled my ear. My heartbeat picked up just a notch. “Don’t you trust me?”

I had to pause and gave myself a second—now I understood what Maeve must have felt when Aedan brought her through the Otherland entrance. Goosebumps prickled at my skin even though I wasn’t cold at all.. I choked out my next words. “Says the guy who walked the entire clarinet section into the color guard during Carmina Burana practice.”

“Okay, campers, let’s go!”

Dev’s fingers tightened a and he started moving us forward. “That was a joke.”

“I’m so glad I’m not a marcher.” I stumbled as the path changed to soft sugar sand and Dev quickly righted me.

“With smooth moves like that, I’m glad you’re not a marcher, too.”

“Shut up.” And he did. For a few minutes, I was surrounded by darkness. I could hear the campers ahead, but, except for the occasional yell from one of the boys, they were hushed as well, all soft whispers. My skin tingled from the pressure of Dev’s touch as he guided me around obstacles in our path.

“See, not so bad.”

“Says you.”

“C’mon. This has to beat hanging out in the corner of the mess hall with your knitting or a book.”

I almost stopped to give him an incredulous look, then realized that he wouldn’t be able to see it, anyway. “Um, no.”

“What’s it about?”

“The knitting?” I asked, and he used our conjoined hands to jab me in the side. “It’s a pair of Celtic knot cabled arm warmers—” he jabbed again and I laughed. “Okay, but you’re going to think that the book is boring and girly.”

“I promise not to laugh. It has to be good if you’re so into it.”

“Oh, it totally is. It’s about this girl whose parents send her up to Canada to help out her uncle for the summer. She plays violin at this ceilidh,” I was careful to pronounce it kay-lee, like in the author’s guide at the front of the book, “—um, like a celtic singing-and-story-and-sometimesdancing show that they put on for the tourists all summer long. And she doesn’t want to be there because it’s not cool like NYC. But then she meets this guy…”

“Big surprise.”

I elbowed him, “Who is this awesome fiddler but wants to be a potato farmer…”

“Because that’s really glamorous.”

“And she gets offered a seat in an August music intensive back home. Right now she’s torn between staying on the Island for the rest of the summer or going to the intensive.” Dev gave my arm a squeeze and I moved to the right under his guidance.