Page 11 of My Star-Crossed Summer

“The weekend outings had to be booked in advance,” he says, “the horseback riding, the canoeing, the camping and so forth. But the weekday afternoon and evening programs are totally flexible.”

Sophie grins. “I get to go on these, too, right?”

“Of course,” Noah says. He smiles at her so his dimples show, and lord have mercy, I forgot how those dimples make me forget about everything else in the whole world.

“I mean, technically the weekend trips are in your off-time,” he tells her, “but you’re welcome to come along.”

Sophie nods enthusiastically, like she can’t wait to gallop down one of these hillsides on horseback, and my heart pounds like a bass drum:You’re doomed. Doomed, doomed, doomed.

When was the last time I rode a horse that wasn’t on a carousel? When was the last time I slept on theground? Noah and Sophie are getting more and more excited as they talk logistics, and it just underscores the reality that I’m going to be the one who falls off the side of the mountain or gets snatched up by a hungry bear. What was I thinking saying yes to this? I was prepared for making s’mores and singing horrendously off-key around a campfire, and hiking on a well-defined and oh-please-Jesus mostly flat trail—but what Noah’s suggesting? I feel like a contestant on that reality show that plops a bunch of city people down blindfolded in the middle of a rainforest and then films them until they cry.

I’m an ugly crier.

I think I’m hiding all of these thoughts well until Noah stops and says, “You okay, Vic?”

Vic.No one calls me that now except my sister. Hearing it in Noah’s rumbling drawl snaps me back in time. Back to when he’d sling his arm over my shoulders and pull me close to tell me some goofy joke or a secret meant just for us. We’d been inseparable back then, and I’d thought we’d have that closeness forever.

You and me against the world, Vic, he used to say. And I felt that all the way down in my bones.

“Of course,” I say. “Sounds amazing.” I give him an exaggerated thumbs-up and immediately regret it because whileit looks cute when Sophie does it, I probably look like a possum trying to hitchhike.

Smooth.

Noah lifts a brow, clearly skeptical.

Sophie gives me a sympathetic smile and glances at Noah, and I’m certain she can see straight through this act. She’s a bonafide Very Outdoorsy Person, after all—just like he is—and those folks can spot an imposter faster than they can spot poison ivy in a thicket.

This is going to be the longest three weeks of my life.

“I’ve got the photo page up and running, too,” Sophie says. Turning her laptop toward me, she explains that each day she’ll post photos to document the kids’ activities. “The parents love getting a peek at what everyone’s up to in class and otherwise,” she says. “It’s great since we have spotty cell service and the kids have limited time to use the lounge phones.”

Noah nods. “Sophie’s in charge of wrangling photos, but if you want to use your cell and send her any, feel free.”

“Will do.” I look over Sophie’s shoulder as she scrolls through the web page so I can see the setup.

“Password protected,” she says. “It’s only for staff, campers, and their parents.”

“Great idea,” I tell her, hoping that the parents won’t immediately see me as an imposter, too.

“Hey, Victoria,” Noah says, and part of me is sad to hear him drop the familiar nickname. “To be clear, you’re welcome to hit me with any ideas you have for activities. I don’t mean to leave you out of the planning.” He gives me a polite smile, resting his big forearms on the table. How does one even get forearms that sculpted? He probably climbs sheer rock faces and rows himself upriver through rapids just for fun. “I pulled a lot of the weekday programs from our go-to list of things the kids have done in years past. Except for the trips that required reservations,everything else is negotiable. I just figured this would be a good place to start, and of course we’ll see what the kids gravitate toward, too.”

Bless his heart, Noah thinks I’m melting into the floor because I’m feeling left out of their planning. It hasn’t dawned on him yet that I’m terrified of spending the night in the wilderness, in a tent that basically makes me a burrito for a bear. He doesn’t realize that scaling mountains and riding horses and paddling down a river is light-years beyond my comfort zone.

And I’d really like to keep it that way. Because the last thing I need is to be humiliated in front of Noah. Again.

“No worries,” I tell him, my voice entirely too chipper. “I appreciate you taking the reins here. I’m sure I’ll think of some things to add once I meet the kids.”

“Perfect,” he says, and there’s that tight smile again, the one that says he’s seeing more than he lets on. The man’s like a human lie detector and picks up on subtle cues that slip by most people—it’s one of the many things that drew me to him all those years ago.

The way he’s looking at me now, though, means he’s not having one bit of trouble seeing through my act. He knows as surely as I do that I’m in way over my head.

Chapter Five

NOAH

Victoria Griffin is the last person I’d ever expect to see in a place like this. And really, I never expected to see her again at all.

I can’t decide if this is a dream come true or a nightmare.

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