Page 45 of Rebel Summer

The smile he gave me was almost like he’d been expecting me, which scrolled my annoyance factor up from a casual nine out of ten to a one hundred out of ten.

“Hey, Books. You miss me?”

“Your music is too loud.”

He feigned an innocent expression. “Really?”

“Turn it down, or I’ll do my worst.”

He looked interested. “What’s your worst?”

I thought for a moment. “Bubble-gum pop music from the 1980s, turned up to volume ten.”

“Volume ten?” he mouthed incredulously, holding up all his fingers.

“Look at you go. First try and you got the right number of fingers up.”

“You think I can’t handle bubble-gum pop?”

“You couldn’t handle any of the N’SYNC songs I added to your playlist.”

He leaned closer to me, his amused eyes intent on mine. “Trust me, Books, I can handle a lot of things.”

I swallowed. Absolutely not appreciating the inappropriate flutterings in my stomach at his words.

“Alright,” I began, clearing my throat. “Maybe we do need your secret knock thing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. This will save me some trips over here.”

“Why do you assume you’re going to be coming to me?” He pointed to himself in mock disbelief.

I motioned to where I was standing. “Because you’re always the one causing trouble.”

His easy smile brandished before me like a weapon. “I do think it’s worth mentioning that, of the two of us, there’s only one person court-ordered to be here this summer.”

I picked an imaginary hair off my shirt. “The less I have to see your face outside of my appointed hours is probably for the best.”

“The life of a felon on parole,” he sighed.

“Probation.”

“Ah, my bad.”

At the exasperated shake of my head, I was rewarded—nay, punished—with another grin.

“I think we need to establish what happens if someone breaks the rules,” I said, folding my arms across my chest.

“I think they should get spanked.” He tucked his hands inside his pockets and leaned casually against the doorframe like he was the main character from a Sunny Palmer book.

I forced myself to skip over the imagery his comment brought to mind. “I’ll be calling Beau.”

“Interesting. So you’ll be calling one of my good friends to tell on me?”

“I’m guessing he’d be more than happy to get you in trouble.”

He smiled at that. “You’re probably right. What’s our code?”

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