Page 63 of My Star-Crossed Summer

My name rings in my ears again, and then I feel a hand on my shoulder.

I stumble and catch myself before I hit the pavement, then pull the earphones from my ears. Victoria bends over at the waist, breathing hard. Her hands grip her thighs, squeezing, and that is the last image I need to have burned into my brain right now.

“Jesus,” she pants. “I’ll never understand why people love to run so much. I feel like I’m actually dying.”

“What’s wrong?” I ask. With her cheeks bright pink and her hair so unruly, she looks like she’s trying to outrun a wildfire.

It’s also sexy as hell.

“We need to talk,” she says, her voice ragged. Her hands are planted on her hips as she leans back, face toward the sky. This draws my gaze down her body, exactly where it does not need to be, and I consider jumping into the nearby pond just to get my body under control. Because her flushed cheeks combined with all that panting is going to make me combust.

“Not here, though,” she says. “Can we meet in the office in a little while? Sophie’s going on a supply run, so we won’t be interrupted.”

“Okay,” I say. “Sure.” Whatever she wants to talk about so urgently can’t be good. Especially if she needs to plan a time and location when we can be alone.

She nods, biting her lip, and I can’t take much more of this. I want to scoop her into my arms and pin her against the nearest tree and kiss that pouty lip of hers until her heart’s pounding as hard as mine is.

“What’s wrong with you?” she barks. “Why do you look like you just ate a ghost pepper?” She’s staring at me with that adorable little furrow in her brow that I want to smooth out with my thumb.

“Nothing,” I reply. “I was just running too hard.”

She frowns like she doesn’t believe that for a second. “I have to make a phone call in a few minutes, but what if we talk right after? It’s important.”

“How about in half an hour?” I offer. That’s time enough for me to run one more lap and then take the coldest shower in the history of the world. I’m going to need every drop of this ice-cold mountain water just to get my heart back to its baseline rhythm.

“Perfect,” she says.

Before I can say anything else, she heads off toward the main building, shoes pounding the pavement like it did her wrong, and I’m left feeling like a house on fire.

Thirty minutes later,I find Victoria in our office inside the admin building.

She’s leaning against the desk, smiling and nodding as she cradles the phone to her ear. When she sees me, she gives me a quick wave and holds one finger up—Give me a minute.

Turning my back to the big bank of windows in the conference room, I study the framed prints in the hallway—modern photos of the Horseshoe Nebula and the Helix Nebula,which I learn from the caption are the result of dying stars. I’m transfixed by the swirling red and green gases, streaks of color as bright as auroras against the vast black of space. It’s hard to imagine that this beauty comes from something as it dies.

The door behind me opens and Victoria says, “Okay, I’m done. Thanks for waiting.”

“Of course,” I say, following her back into the room. “Good news from home?” I close the door behind me, and she sits on the small sofa at the back of the room. Because it’s more like a loveseat, I sit in the chair next to her.

I get the feeling that she needs some space to tell me what’s on her mind.

“That was a work call,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Or, potential work, I guess.”

“Was that Roxy? Did something full-time come up?”

Her brows pinch together. “No. Another real estate office made me an offer. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Are you going to take it?” I ask. Her answer means everything. And the way she glossed over it? I don’t know how to take that.

She waggles her finger at me. “One crisis at a time, Valentine.”

“Crisis?” I ask, because apparently, I’m now a parrot.

“Roxy asked me if something was going on between us,” she says. “She swears the admin visit isn’t about that, but I’m freaking out. She sent me photos.”

“Wait. What?” My heart drops straight into my stomach. “Okay. This is not what I was expecting.” If the admin staff gets a whiff of fraternizing, then they’ll fire us both in a heartbeat and I can kiss this camp gig goodbye—permanently.

“Yeah, this is not how I expected to start my day, either,” she says.

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