Page 37 of Until Next Summer

An awkward laugh bursts out of me. It’s the worst possible response, but I’ve never been good at flirting.

That’s what this is, right? I mean, the man just implied he’d like to sleep with me. But maybe he was joking. He was probably joking.

I turn to look at him at the exact same moment he turns to look at me. My breath catches. Cooper holds my stare, and it’s almost like we’re playing chicken—until the car veers and he looks straight ahead, keeping his eyes on the road.

“What exactly are you suggesting?” I ask, trying desperately to hide my shock.

“It was an offer, not a suggestion,” he says, his voice casual, like he does this every day. Which he might, based on that blonde in the kitchen. “If you’re looking for a summer fling, I could be into that.”

“Wouldn’t that get in the way of your romancing the campers?” I ask.

Cooper lets out a curt laugh, but there’s not much humor behind it. For a moment, I wonder if I’ve offended him. But he just says, “See? You’d be doing me a favor—curbing the temptation to break the rules.”

My cheeks flush and I wonder if this is part of some elaborate prank.

“Are you being serious?” I ask.

“Very,” he says. “I mean, we already kissed once, right?”

So he does remember.

“And I already saw your boob.”

I cover my face with my hands at the memory. “You only sawpartof my boob.”

He winces apologetically. “Hate to break it to you, but I’m a good six inches taller than you. And that towel had some significant…gaping at the top.”

My mouth falls open. “So because you saw one boob you think you might as well seeeverything?”

Do Iwanthim to see everything?

“No pressure or anything,” Cooper says. “Just throwing it out there.”

My heart is pounding. I can’t believe I’m even considering this. I am not a “fling” person. I’ve never had a “fling.” I approach romantic relationships the same way I approach everything in life—cautiously and with a plan. A casual fling would throw all that out the window.

But it would also prove Aaron wrong.

“I’ll think about it,” I say, knowing I won’t be able to think of anything else for the near future.

—

Our first stop in “town” is the Walmart Supercenter, which has craft supplies for me and food supplies for Cooper. Not to mention alcohol and sex supplies for the campers.

We exchange numbers in case we can’t find each other once we’ve filled our respective carts. I locate all the craft supplies I need—everything from yarn and embroidery floss to tie-dye materials, pipe cleaners, and construction paper—plus all the comforts of home I need for my room,since camp is so remote, Amazon doesn’t even deliver there. I pick out a fan, new sheets, two pillows (one decorative), a soft blanket, two towels, and, most importantly, a robe.

When I’m done, I find Cooper in the cereal aisle, chewing his lip as he studies the nutritional labels on two family-sized boxes of cereal. The sight of him sends a rush of heat through my entire body.

If you’re looking for a summer fling, I could be into that.

“Hey!” I say, forcing a friendly smile as I roll my cart up beside his. “Find everything you need?”

“And then some. How about you?” Cooper sounds completely chill, whereas I’m still freaking out about his proposition. Could I actually have a summer fling? Me? With Cooper?

“Same, I think.” I look down at my list of supplies and realize there’s only one thing left. The last thing I want to shop for with Cooper.

You’re an adult, I tell myself.Stop being so pathetic.

“What aisle do you think the condoms are in? For the campers?” I add so he doesn’t get the wrong idea.

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