ChApTeR OnE
~Tj~
I swing the door open to my cabin and continue to rub my jaw. Damn, that little chica can throw a punch. The entire left side of my face is throbbing like a bitch. And there’s a good chance her boyfriend is gonna cause equal or greater pain to the other side when he finds out what I did.
Jordan tries to pull off the peacekeeper act, but I know there’s a dude who can throw a punch inside that boy. It’s after midnight so of course he’s asleep. I stare down the light switch for a full three seconds and then flip it on.
Better get this over with.
He rubs his eyes, squints, and rolls out of bed. “What’s going on?”
“Your girlfriend just decked me.” Okay, I probably shouldn’t have started with that.
His feet land on the cabin floor, his eyes narrowed at me, or maybe he’s still squinting? “Wait… what?”
“She punched me,” I explain.
His jaw tenses, but instead of swinging at me, he’s reaching down, snatching a T-shirt and shorts from the floor. “Why did she punch you? And what the hell were you doing with my girlfriend at midnight?”
Finally. A raised voice. Suspicion.
I don’t like being the subject of suspicion, but I’ve been in this role so often I’m comfortable with it. It’s familiar. Like an asshole uncle at Thanksgiving dinner.
“I dragged her out of bed, tricked her into going in the gym, forced her to do a dismount, and then she punched me and ran away,” I say, all in one breath.
He tugs his head through the T-shirt and stares at me, his forehead wrinkled. “Did she do it?”
“Punch me? Yeah, I already told you that. I think my jaw is gonna be bruised.”
“Good,” he snaps. “But I meant the dismount. Did she do a fucking dismount?”
“Yeah, but—”
He’s already striding toward the cabin door and heading outside, not needing to hear anymore. I know where he’s going and I probably shouldn’t follow, but now I’m thinking I may have made a brand new mess trying to clean up another one.
Great job, TJ. What else is new?
Jordan’s got to know I’m behind him the whole time he’s walking down the path, but he doesn’t say shit about it. Unfortunately, there’s a blond chick guarding the door to Karen’s cabin.
“You can’t come in here,” she says to Jordan, her arms folded across her chest. “Stevie gave me strict instructions.”
He attempts to reach around her for the door handle. “I don’t want to talk to Stevie, I need Karen.”
The blonde—Ariel—easily blocks Jordan, folds her arms across her chest and then her eyes grow wide when she sees me. “Oh no! You are definitely not coming in here.”
“So that means I can?” Jordan’s growing more impatient by the second.
Shove her out of the way, Jordan . I praise myself for not saying that out loud, but whatever. Ariel can sprain her ankle on this cabin porch for all I care. I’m sick and tired of Nina Jones going on and on about her dance elements on floor and her bar routine and how the international judges are going to shit their pants over it. Stevie’s tumbling will kick any and all dance elements’ ass and Karen’s bar routine is ten times better than Ariel’s. When she actually does the whole thing instead of shaking in fear.
I close my eyes for a second and replay her dismount again. The one she did right before decking me in the face. I sigh with relief all over again. It’s weird how much lighter I feel. That fall had messed me up almost as much as her.
And maybe I shouldn’t have gone that far, forcing her to do it, but no else was doing a damn thing. Even Jordan. Whatever shit they’ve got between them right now made him screw this up big time. Of course, he’s not the one who caused her to slam her head into the bar in the first place.
No, that one is all on me.
CHAPTER TWO
~KAREN~
“Calm the freak down,” Stevie, my oldest teammate says from her spot on my bottom bunk. “Stop pacing and stop looking like you’re about to punch
~Tj~
I swing the door open to my cabin and continue to rub my jaw. Damn, that little chica can throw a punch. The entire left side of my face is throbbing like a bitch. And there’s a good chance her boyfriend is gonna cause equal or greater pain to the other side when he finds out what I did.
Jordan tries to pull off the peacekeeper act, but I know there’s a dude who can throw a punch inside that boy. It’s after midnight so of course he’s asleep. I stare down the light switch for a full three seconds and then flip it on.
Better get this over with.
He rubs his eyes, squints, and rolls out of bed. “What’s going on?”
“Your girlfriend just decked me.” Okay, I probably shouldn’t have started with that.
His feet land on the cabin floor, his eyes narrowed at me, or maybe he’s still squinting? “Wait… what?”
“She punched me,” I explain.
His jaw tenses, but instead of swinging at me, he’s reaching down, snatching a T-shirt and shorts from the floor. “Why did she punch you? And what the hell were you doing with my girlfriend at midnight?”
Finally. A raised voice. Suspicion.
I don’t like being the subject of suspicion, but I’ve been in this role so often I’m comfortable with it. It’s familiar. Like an asshole uncle at Thanksgiving dinner.
“I dragged her out of bed, tricked her into going in the gym, forced her to do a dismount, and then she punched me and ran away,” I say, all in one breath.
He tugs his head through the T-shirt and stares at me, his forehead wrinkled. “Did she do it?”
“Punch me? Yeah, I already told you that. I think my jaw is gonna be bruised.”
“Good,” he snaps. “But I meant the dismount. Did she do a fucking dismount?”
“Yeah, but—”
He’s already striding toward the cabin door and heading outside, not needing to hear anymore. I know where he’s going and I probably shouldn’t follow, but now I’m thinking I may have made a brand new mess trying to clean up another one.
Great job, TJ. What else is new?
Jordan’s got to know I’m behind him the whole time he’s walking down the path, but he doesn’t say shit about it. Unfortunately, there’s a blond chick guarding the door to Karen’s cabin.
“You can’t come in here,” she says to Jordan, her arms folded across her chest. “Stevie gave me strict instructions.”
He attempts to reach around her for the door handle. “I don’t want to talk to Stevie, I need Karen.”
The blonde—Ariel—easily blocks Jordan, folds her arms across her chest and then her eyes grow wide when she sees me. “Oh no! You are definitely not coming in here.”
“So that means I can?” Jordan’s growing more impatient by the second.
Shove her out of the way, Jordan . I praise myself for not saying that out loud, but whatever. Ariel can sprain her ankle on this cabin porch for all I care. I’m sick and tired of Nina Jones going on and on about her dance elements on floor and her bar routine and how the international judges are going to shit their pants over it. Stevie’s tumbling will kick any and all dance elements’ ass and Karen’s bar routine is ten times better than Ariel’s. When she actually does the whole thing instead of shaking in fear.
I close my eyes for a second and replay her dismount again. The one she did right before decking me in the face. I sigh with relief all over again. It’s weird how much lighter I feel. That fall had messed me up almost as much as her.
And maybe I shouldn’t have gone that far, forcing her to do it, but no else was doing a damn thing. Even Jordan. Whatever shit they’ve got between them right now made him screw this up big time. Of course, he’s not the one who caused her to slam her head into the bar in the first place.
No, that one is all on me.
CHAPTER TWO
~KAREN~
“Calm the freak down,” Stevie, my oldest teammate says from her spot on my bottom bunk. “Stop pacing and stop looking like you’re about to punch
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