Page 21 of The Summer Intern

Every coherent thought vaporized.My hands found his hips, my fingers digging in as I moved to return the kiss.

But just that instant, a shout echoed from the outside.Sutton was looking for me.

Reality came roaring back.I tore myself away, chest heaving.Casey stared up at me, lips swollen pink, hair mussed.His chest rose and fell like he’d sprinted from the lake.

“I— Shit.Fuck.Fuck.”He slapped both hands to his flaming cheeks, eyes blown so wide I could see the starburst of gold around his pupils.“I didn’t— That wasn’t—”

“Casey—”

He ducked under my arm, nearly tripping over a huge tub of glue.The screen door shrieked on its hinges as he bolted from the room.

For a full minute, I just stood there.I touched two fingers to my mouth.They came away faintly shiny, and I could still smell the cherry Chapstick on them.

My reflection in the cracked mirror above the sink looked thoroughly wrecked—hair wild, neck splotchy red where Casey’s nails had skidded.I never crossed this boundary—never made a move on my employees.Now one sarcastic music major with purple hair and a hero complex had me harder than a fucking canoe paddle after five seconds of a kiss that I hadn’t even returned.

There’d been nothing tame about the way he’d bitten at my mouth, all frustrated energy and sharp edges.Like arguing with him felt—a challenge wrapped in silk.And I hadn’t even kissed him back.Rain pattered steadily on the roof now.Somewhere outside, Casey was either hyperventilating into his phone or drafting a blistering resignation letter.Both possibilities twisted something behind my ribs.

The door slammed open, and hope rose in my chest, but it was just Sutton.“You really need to answer your phone, man,” he said, panting.“That guy is here about the issue with the septic field.”

Right.Priorities.I jammed my hair into a fresh ponytail, grabbed the clipboard, and shouldered open the door.

ten

Casey

Thedoorofthearts and crafts hut slammed shut behind me, the sound echoing across the quiet camp like a gunshot.I went to shove my hands into the pockets of my shirt—before realizing that I was still wearing Matt’s flannel.I wanted to pull it more tightly around me and bury myself in his scent.I wanted to rip it off and throw it into the lake.

But it was too cold for that, and I was only wearing a tank top underneath.I started toward the cabin Oliver and I shared, but the thought of facing him—of explaining why I looked like I’d just been hit by a truck—made my stomach twist.

I pivoted sharply, my boots skidding on the loose gravel, and veered onto one of the trails that looped around the camp.Matt would laugh if he knew I was voluntarily hiking.After so many weeks of teasing him for his outdoorsy crap—suddenly the idea of being alone in the woods felt like a solution to my problems.

Hell, maybe a predator would come along and turn me into a snack.

My mind was racing, a chaotic mess of thoughts I couldn’t untangle.That stupid fucking kiss replayed in my mind, becoming more and more embarrassing each time.I’d thrown myself at him, thinking—what?That Matt wanted it too?That those blue eyes lingering on my lips meant something?He hadn’t moved.Hadn’t kissed me back.Just stood there, frozen, like I’d slapped him instead of kissed him.My brain played the scene over and over like some kind of cruel highlight reel.

Like I’d crossed some uncrossable line.

“Idiot,” I muttered under my breath, kicking a stray pinecone off the trail.Of course he didn’t want me.Matt was straight.A hyper-masculine mountain man who dreamed of chopping wood and marrying a girl who wore flannel and brewed her own beer.Not some pink-haired city boy who couldn’t even start a fire in a fireplace.

But then why had he been standing so close?I lifted my hand to my throat, remembering the way he’d held me against that wall like he had very dirty plans for me.Why had his eyes dropped to my lips like he was going to—

I stopped walking, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment.My heart was pounding, and my palms sweaty, even in the cold.This was bad.So bad.What if he fired me?

The trail curved, leading me deeper into the woods.The air was cooler here, the sunlight filtering through the trees in narrow beams.I shoved my hands deep into the pockets of my cargo pants, the soft fabric of Matt’s flannel brushing against my wrists.It still smelled like him, and I hated how much that made my stomach flutter.

“Ugh,” I groaned aloud, kicking another pinecone.This one ricocheted off a tree trunk, disappearing into the underbrush.I needed to stop thinking about this.Needed to stop thinking about him.But my brain wouldn’t let it go.

I rounded the corner too fast, not looking where I was going, and slammed right into someone.Hard.A yelp—not mine—and then a sharp bark echoed through the quiet campground.I bounced off of him and stumbled back, arms flailing, and blinked up at the guy I’d just body-checked.

“Shit!Sorry!I’m so sorry!”The words tumbled out of me in a rush, my face burning.

The guy was holding a leash, and at the end of it was the cutest puppy I’d ever seen.Fluffy, with big brown eyes, giant feet, and ears that flopped when it tilted its head.My heart melted a little, even as I looked up at the man and realized I knew who he was.Ben.Matt’s stepbrother.Sutton’s fiancé.

“It’s fine,” Ben said, his voice calm, steady.He had a quiet intensity about him, like he didn’t need to raise his voice to make you listen.“You’re Casey, right?I’m Ben… I don’t think we’ve ever officially met, but it feels like we have.Sutton and Matt talk about you all the time.”

“Uh, yeah,” I said, crouching down to pet the puppy before I could overthink it.“Sorry again.I wasn’t paying attention.I didn’t know you guys had a dog.”

Ben tilted his head, his expression softening as he watched the puppy sniff at my boots like they were the most fascinating thing in the world.“This is Junji.Sutton got him for me.Said I needed to get out of the cabin more.Now that I’m working from home, I’ve developed a tendency to lose myself in my illustrations and never walk around.”

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