Page 16 of My Star-Crossed Summer

I study her face for a long moment, but she’s unreadable. “If that’s what you want,” I say at last.

She nods once and climbs out of the car.

My pulse pounds in my ears because I never thought I’d see Victoria again, and of course it would happen like this: here, in a camp full of kids, where she’s my co-worker and I have to be a no-nonsense role model and be on my best behavior—when all I really want to do is pick up where we left off and kiss her until we’re both seeing stars.

But clearly, she doesn’t want that.

These three weeks are going to be the death of me.

Chapter Six

VICTORIA

You’re not sharing,” Noah says, teasing. He inches closer with his spoon, a wicked gleam in his eye. It’s spring break of our senior year in college, and we’re on the beach behind the house we’re sharing with some friends. Six of us have spent the week crammed into this little barrier-island bungalow that I’m pretty sure belongs to someone’s grandmother, based on all the doilies and floral upholstery. Our friends went back inside hours ago, so now it’s just me and Noah, under a thin blanket next to the dying campfire, eating the special combo of shave-ice and gelato that’s only made in one special food truck down by the boardwalk.

“The whole point of us not getting the same flavor was so we could double the culinary adventure,” he says, his brow lifting.

“But I like this one better,” I say, nearing the bottom of the cup.

Mischief flashes in his eyes as he leans closer, his fingers wiggling.

“Don’t you dare,” I warn. “Stop right there, Valentine.”

He grins and then pounces, his fingers tickling just below my ribs, where he knows I’m most ticklish.

Squealing, I hold fast to the gelato and try to wriggle out of his grasp. It’s no use because he’s stronger, faster, and more determined. That, and I don’t hate the feel of his hands on me, even when he’s tickling me mercilessly.

He lunges for the cup, and I topple backwards into the sand, still laughing as he falls on top of me, his arms caging me in. His hair’s wild from the ocean and the wind, his hazel eyes glittering in the light from the campfire. As he reaches over my head to pluck the cup from my hand, he says, “Uh-oh, what are you going to do now, Griffin?”

When his weight shifts, I take that moment to roll us over—but I put way too much effort into it because we roll twice, and Noah gasps in surprise. When we stop, he’s on his back in the sand, and I’m draped over him like a blanket. Sand is sticking to my bare legs, and now Noah’s laughing too. My hips are pinned against his, and I can feel his heartbeat pounding against my chest. We touch all the time—his arm slung around my shoulders, a hug when we say goodnight—but this is different. Noah’s my best friend, but over the last few months, I’ve caught all the feelings—big time. I’ve wanted to tell him how I feel so often, but each time convince myself that I should wait for some sign that he feels the same way. He’s the closest friend I’ve ever had, and I don’t want to ruin everything between us.

But feeling his whole body here beneath me, seeing that teasing glint in his eyes, my body just wantsmore.And it’s done listening to reason.

He lifts the cup into the air, victorious. “Got it,” he says, a little out of breath. And when his eyebrow lifts and that sexy smirk appears, I lose what’s left of my control.

I close the few inches between us and kiss him gently at first, but when his teeth scrape against my lips and I feel his hand rest in the small of my back, it lights a fire inside me. He groans as I kiss him harder, tangling my hands in his hair. I’ve imaginedhow this might happen a thousand different ways, and this is better than all of them. Noah’s lips are soft but firm, and when his teeth catch my bottom lip, I’m certain my heart will explode.

It’s heaven.

I’m gasping when I break the kiss, and then Noah’s hands are on my wrists, gently pulling my hands from his hair and resting them on his chest. My heart’s banging against my ribs, and my body is desperate to feel more of his skin against mine—all I can think is,Why did I wait so long?I move to kiss him again, but when his brows pinch together and his lips part, my heart sinks.

“Vic,” he whispers. “We shouldn’t. I can’t—” He pauses, as if choosing his words carefully, and gives my hands a gentle squeeze.

I freeze. This is the worst-case scenario—the outcome I’ve feared most. I wish a giant wave would wash over us and carry me out to sea so I don’t have to hear the next words out of his mouth.

“It’s not you.” He swallows hard and whispers, “I mean, there’s someone else.”

Nope, I stand corrected.Thisis the worst-case scenario.

“What? Who?” I blurt. “How?” My calculations never includedsomeone else. Because he’s never indicated thatsomeone elseexists. Noah and I don’t have secrets.

Well. Mostly.

He sighs. “Samantha. We went to high school together. A while back, we started chatting online, and it’s become this weird long-distance thing.” He shrugs. “It just sort of... happened. We reconnected over winter break, and she’s been bugging me to take this backpacking trip with her this summer?—”

“Oh my god!” I cry. “You have a secret girlfriend?” The air whooshes out of my lungs. Noah has asecret girlfriend. He’skept this fact from me. On purpose. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” I say.

“Not a secret,” he says, frowning. “It’s just new.”

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