Page 8 of Never Will I Ever

Then the asshole goes and opens his mouth again, effectively breaking the moment and reminding me exactly why I can’t stand him.

“The time for asking questions was the second you saw me looking through Keene’s phone. Not now, after the damage is done.”

“Damageyoucaused,” I point out.

“And it all would have been avoided if you’d spoken up.”

His statement gives me pause, because even without him saying it, I’ve wondered if it’s true. Plenty of times over the past few weeks, I’ve thought about how things could have played out differently. Because, while I’m perfectly aware that Avery made his own choices, I made mine too. And I chose to not say anything to him at that moment, instead quietly observing rather than making my presence known.

Maybe I could have talked to him. Distracted him enough to stop him from finding the picture—which ended up being exactly the kind of ammunition Avery was looking for. Or at the very least, stopping him from sending the damn thing.

But the more I dwell on those what-ifs, the more miserable I get.

Avery shakes his head, still spitting mad from the looks of it, but he also takes a step back, giving us both some much-needed space. “This is pointless. You’re never gonna agree with my actions, just like I sure as fuck won’t agree with yours.”

“Finally. Something we can agree on.” I’m practically seething when I circle back to my original thought. “So, are you gonna tell me why the hell you’re here?”

His blue eyes turn to ice as he glares at me. “Nah, I’m gonna just let you fill in all the blanks. Feel free to go to Colin with your theories, though. You know, ’cause you’ve already had thepractice.”

My jaw tics hard enough my molars might crack from the pressure, and I’m damn sure steam is shooting straight out of my ears.

This fucking douchewaffle.

“Forget it, Reynolds.” Shoving off the doorjamb, I head down the stairs and call over my shoulder, “Campers arrive tomorrow morning, seven o’clock. Do us both a favor and stay out of my way until then.”

Three

Kaleb

Week One

Cars begin arriving at seven on the dot the next morning, and Avery is nowhere to be found. Which checks out, honestly. I know there’s no way he’s taking this seriously, and that’s exactly the reason I asked why he was here. Because, while this might be all fun and games to him, working here is something I take very seriously.

And as much as I enjoy being right, it also pisses me off to no end.

Half of the campers in our age group have arrived, unloaded, and checked in by the time Avery comes skidding to a stop beside me.

Not bothering to glance up from the clipboard in my hands, I mutter, “You’re late.”

“Only by fifteen minutes,” he says in a huff.

Four words out of his arrogant mouth already have my irritation spiking, but I do my best to remain composed. “Fifteen minutes, one minute, or an hour. The amount of time you’re late by doesn’t change the fact that you’re still late.”

A sharp scoff comes from him. “You’re really getting off on this shit, y’know that? You have some sort of superiority complex I don’t know about?”

I finally lift my gaze to find his blue eyes aimed at me in a glare. “If being on time and responsible is a superiority complex, then yeah, I guess I do.”

He blinks, frustration written all over his face.

Well, he can join the club. Because I’m sure as hell annoyed to no end by his inability to be on time for the kids’ arrivals. Or his presence here in general.

I’m about to tell him this too, when out of nowhere, his fingers wrap around my wrist, causing a small zing of electricity to shoot straight through my chest. And that’s the best way to describe it. Electric. Not the same white-hot heat that ripples through my extremities when I get angry, nor the jolt of adrenaline when fear kicks in. It’s a sensation I’ve never really felt before, apart from yesterday in his cabin, and I don’t really know what to do with it.

Avery uses his grip to haul me toward the side of the lodge, and it snaps me out of the momentary stupor I fell into at his touch.

“Reynolds, I’m a little busy—”

He stops us dead in our tracks, turning on me and cutting me off before I have the chance to finish my thought. “This isn’t going to work.”

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