Page 74 of Class Clown

“This gun is a bully,” I complained, rubbing at my shoulder.

“It packs a punch.”

“I’m not going down without a fight. I’m going again.”

I turned back around and prepared everything. When I lifted it back to my shoulder, Nico stepped up close behind me and pressed a hand to the shoulder that would be taking the hit. He stabilized me - but kind of destabilized me at the same time, just sayin’ – and I took a deep breath before squeezing the trigger.

This time I was more prepared for the kickback and I only took a half step back, which put me right up against Nico’s chest. A sudden desire to snuggle back against him had me shifting my body until I was doing exactly that. He still had a hand on my shoulder, but his other hand gently came to my waist.

“You okay?” he asked.

His breath was warm against my cheek and I froze, taking in the sensation as his head dipped forward and his nose pressed behind my ear. The hand on my waist moved around until it was pressed against my stomach, and I let the gun fall forward until the tip of it was facing down once more as he tightened his hold.

I tipped my head back against his shoulder and closed my eyes as he pressed the lightest possible kiss to the side of my neck. My throat felt thick as his other hand moved from my shoulder, caressing down my arm before moving back up. He leaned closer, pressing a second kiss along my jawline, and I sucked in a breath, wondering what was happening and why I couldn’t think clearly.

Hadn’t I decided not to do this? Probably. That seemed familiar. But his fingers pressed into my soft stomach and I leaned heavier against him, tilting my head to the side to give him better access for another series of kisses along my neckline.

The sun was so warm on my face, and I had to think hard about holding on to the gun to keep us safe while he nuzzled up against my jaw and behind my ear, and I wanted to float away on this blissful moment.

“Ruby,” he murmured against my skin. “You’re so beautiful.”

Maybe it was the word beautiful that snapped me back. I’d had a lot of guys tell me that, and while I knew Nico meant it genuinely, and part of me was thrilled by that, some of the remembered hurts floated into the space.

I straightened, and bit my lips to keep from turning around to make this into a real kissing session. I’d learned my lesson. I was taking my time and waiting for the real thing. No more summer flings even if I was beyond attracted to this man. We didn’t live anywhere near each other.

His hands dropped from me and I fiddled with the gun, buying myself some time.

“You okay?” he asked in a husky tone.

“I’m great,” I said, carefully handling the gun before I took another distancing step and turned to face him. “What else do you have?”

His expression was confused, but he quickly wiped it clean and strode to his pack, where he pulled out another gun. I brushed off the feeling of his masculine body up against mine, his hold firm and secure, his lips soft and warm, and refocused on learning about this gun while I ruthlessly shoved down the attraction zipping between us.

Chapter 18

Ruby’s Truth: Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.

The truth is, that sometimes feelings can’t be shoved back into the pond they crawled out of, and after our gun-shooting adventure I was having a terrible time seeing Nico as just a guy I knew. I was trying. I was committed to not becoming a stalker, or flirting outrageously like I always had before, but he was everywhere, and with my new awareness of him it was sort of a sweet torture.

Oh, I’d crushed on my fair share of guys, but Nico was coming at me from a different direction and I didn’t have the tools to handle this shift in the universe. He was thoughtful. He paid attention to the things I said and did. He’d learned my likes and dislikes, my habits and routines. He was making it impossible. All I wanted to do was grab his face and plant a kiss right on his lips.

I was relieved when camp games were announced a few days later. Through some flex in the universe somewhere, the camp had only had older kids sign up for the week. The eight and nine-year-old cabins were empty. Those counselors had doubled up with the others and having a camp of ten to sixteen-year-olds had made things more fun and less rigid for everyone.

That afternoon at lunch, Cole announced that the entire camp would be playing Mission Impossible. According to Kristy, it was a game where the staff wore flag football belts and hid in the forest. The campers, in groups of three or four, had to hunt us down, take the flags from our belts, andbring us in to “jail” until the last staffer was found. The group who found the most staffers won.

Even better – it was played in the dark.

It sounded fun and I was one thousand percent in for a distraction. The campers cheered, and the staff all high-fived around the place, and I immediately began plotting. After dinner, we cleaned up the health center, and Kristy instructed me to dress in dark colors and meet at the campfire ring. Everyone dispersed to get ready.

I hustled back to Funky Bunks and slid to a stop inside the door where Nico, dressed in camouflage with a black beanie pulled low on his head, and some sort of man-bag fanny pack strapped to his waist, startled a scream out of me in the dim light.

“Holy pearls!” I cried, my hands shooting out in front of me.

He turned to fully face me and stuck both of his arms out to the side. “I’m going to win.”

I put a hand to my heart and nodded. “I believe it.” I relaxed my stance and took a deep breath to settle my racing heart. “How did you know to bring camo?”

“I always bring camo.”

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