Summer Heat (Cruel Summer #1)(6)

His eyes locked on mine as he started talking. “Staff hours are eight to eight. The main lodge is available for you guys to use to relax, gossip about the little shits that refuse to listen to your wisdom, and to party with all the confiscated alcohol we’re about to take. Get high on your own watch and remember you guys are here for one reason and one reason only. I know I don’t have to remind you why this is one of the best camps in the US. But I’m going to do it anyway. We’ve been around for twenty years, and in twenty years, we’ve had some of the biggest names in Hollywood grace our halls. You may be coaching the next Chris Pratt, so try to be patient. This is a place to make connections and it also looks incredible on your resumes. I know a lot of you are drama majors hoping to hit it big in an industry that crushes dreams almost as much as it crushes pills — try to use this as a learning experience. Network with one another.” His gaze left mine. “This is your official Welcome to Summer Heat, Camp to the Stars.” He handed a stack of papers to the girl standing next to him. “Memorize your itinerary for the week. We have seven days to decide on a show, make sure to put in your votes by Friday, we’ll announce at the Saturday campfire. Your schedules will shift throughout the next two months, if you prove yourself in one area, then you may get upgraded to coach another. We’ve tried to place you in your specialties.” His grin was more of a leer when he looked me over. Damn it, why did he have to suddenly look like Alexander Skaarsgard and Brad Pitt’s long-lost love child. I blinked a few times like I was trying to take in the inches of muscle packed around his body. The sharp jawline, the veins running down his forearms.

“You should probably stop staring,” Jackson said out of the corner of his mouth.

I jumped a foot. “What? No, I wasn’t—”

“He can sense attraction, he smells it in the air like a shark during shark week who’s been given a speck of blood.” He grinned.

Heat flooded my cheeks.

“Don’t worry my lips are sealed, but let’s just say if you did nail him, you’d be the first to get through that rough exterior. He doesn’t do girlfriends, he does one-night stands.”

“You two must have that in common.” I smiled sweetly at him then looked away.

He chuckled to himself. “Is that interest I hear in your voice?”

“Never.” I rolled my eyes as Marlo kept talking about schedules and then Jackson handed me mine and whistled. I stared down at my name crossed out then scribbled in next to choreography and singing.

I felt myself pale.

I had severe stage fright when it came to singing.

And I’d barely passed my last dance class because I nearly fell off the stage. I had taken lessons because I wanted to be a triple threat, but acting was my jam — drama, not dancing, not music.

“That sucks,” Jackson peered over my shoulder with a knowing grin. “He’s fired at least four choreographers, and that was within the first week of camp. Good luck, you’re going to need it.” He smiled as if he knew something I didn’t. Panic swept through my body.

“Great,” I grumbled.

And then a warm arm was placed around me. I looked up into Jackson’s green eyes and tried to be unaffected by his presence, but he was just like Marlo. It was like he sensed the chase and became more attractive by the second because of it. “I can coach you, you know. It’s my specialty, voice of an angel right here, not to mention moves that would make you—”

I cupped my hand over his mouth and shook my head stern. “I’m going to ignore your obvious sexual innuendos for your own sake. I don’t want a boyfriend. I don’t want a one-night stand, and I sure as hell don’t want you to coach me. I’m offering friendship because I’m severely lacking in that department right now. Take it or leave it.”

His lips tickled my palm as he grinned against my hand.

I pulled it away, eyebrow arching. “Well?”

He held out his hand and widened his grin. “I’m a really good friend.”

“Oh, I bet,” I said sarcastically, taking his hand in mine.

“Ray,” Marlon called from the front. “If you’re done flirting I’d like to get back to the bathroom schedule and mess hall.”

Flames licked at my face. “I wasn’t…” I sighed. “Sorry, Marlo.”

He just shook his head and kept talking about the mess hall and the bathrooms and how we needed to stick to our schedule otherwise things didn’t work. Who died and made him director? The guy had a serious stick stuck up his ass.

Finally, he was done.

I’d heard about half of what he said.

“Dismissed.” He nodded to us. Suddenly exhausted, I turned on my heel and started walking toward the door.

“Ray.” It was Marlo. Damn it.

My steps faltered as I gulped and turned around. People shuffled out of the lodge, leaving us alone.

Marlo walked purposefully toward me. His ice blue eyes never left my face. And then suddenly he was in front of me. Every hard inch of him.

I tried to calm my erratic heartbeat.

The tension in the air could be tasted. It swirled around us as this tangible thing just like his anger. I felt waves of it hit me in the face, dance between us and around us, bringing my body closer.

I sucked in a breath when he leaned down like he was going to kiss me. My lips parted greedily trying to pull in the air between us, hoping it had pieces of him on it.