Last Chance Summer - Shannon Klare Page 0,50

pounding as my hands twined through the hair at the base of his neck. The smell of his skin overpowered my senses, spinning thoughts through my head.

Beneath moonlit shadows, he pulled away first. His hands stayed on my face, warm. Comforting.

“I thought you said this was complicated,” I said, looking at him.

“It is,” he said. “But I never said I wouldn’t try.”

12

Mistakes

“I thought you agreed to try!” I said, racing down the court.

Campers crowded the pavilion benches, their cheers echoing off the rafters. Tonight’s counselor basketball game was the main event, drawing every camper from every cabin. Unfortunately, we were losing. Our agreement to figure things out, despite our co-counselor status, hadn’t done anything to help my basketball skills.

“I did. I tried to sub you out,” Grant said, slowing with the ball. “Kira isn’t ready to come in. Not my fault.”

I rolled my eyes and took my spot beneath the basket. Kira’s freshly rolled ankle had sent me out on the court with no substitutes in sight. It didn’t matter that the right side of my body was crying out for relief. The court and this game were my current options.

Grant dribbled the ball, sweat rolling down his neck as he surveyed his options. He held the ball, looking at the basket as he attempted to hit the same top corner shot he taught me about a few days before.

Erica caught the miss and carefully dribbled the ball as she sprinted the opposite way.

“I feel like I’m about to die,” I said, heaving in a breath. “My body is pissed.”

“We’ve got about two minutes left,” Grant said, chuckling as he jogged beside me. “Can you make it that long?”

“That depends. Does lying on the sidelines, trying to breathe, qualify as defense?”

He increased his pace, guarding the male junior counselor who was eagerly clapping for the ball. The difference between his height and Grant’s was ridiculous. Grant easily stole the ball, then did a behind-the-back dribble as he took off toward our hoop.

“Nope, not running,” I said, clutching my sides.

Grant made the basket easily and gave one of the guy counselors a high five as he hurried my way. “You aren’t supposed to stay here while everyone else is over there,” he said, reaching half-court. “Pretty sure that’s called being offsides.”

“I don’t care. All this running is going to kill me,” I said.

The guy counselor from cabin one had the ball again. He dribbled, darting looks our way as he maneuvered through the players.

“Alex!” he yelled, throwing the ball straight at me.

My hand shot out with a smack, the rubber hitting my palm before I registered the movement. “I have the ball!” I said, panicking.

“Run!” Grant said, nudging me forward.

I did my best to remember Grant’s dribbling tips, but quickly found myself tripping over the ball. Luckily, he hadn’t given me more than a foot of space. He rescued the ball before it fell into the other team’s hands, dribbling quickly toward the basket before the other team could take their spots.

Loraine blew her whistle as he was putting up the shot, signaling for stop of play.

“Time!” she hollered with a smile. “Game goes to the blue team.”

“Holy crap, we won!” I said, throwing my hands up. It didn’t matter if I had contributed or not. My sweaty blue jersey was proof.

“We won!” I repeated, spotting Grant as he carried the ball across the court.

He handed it off to Loraine, then shook the other team’s hands before grabbing a bottle of water from the bench. He downed it in one gulp, his jersey clinging to his abdomen as sweat rolled down the planes of his face.

“He’s so hot,” Brie said behind me, clapping me on the shoulder as she came to a stop.

I nodded in agreement, peeling my eyes away despite really wanting to stare.

“Apparently he’s also really good at basketball,” Jess said, joining us with my other two campers in tow. “I didn’t think he could game like that, but he’s got some talent.”

“He’s obviously the reason y’all won,” Brie said, nodding. Jess elbowed her in the side, earning a glare. “What? Alex is cool, but basketball is not her thing.”

“Her team still won,” Jess said through gritted teeth. “How about you quit critiquing and jump to the celebration part. You remember that, don’t you?”

“Oh, right,” Brie said, nodding. She looked at me, grinning. “The girls and I figured out the perfect way to end tonight. Hint: baby oil.”

“Already got the tarp secured,” Jess said, nodding.

I paused, trying to rack