camp, all cafeterias had basically the same look and equipment. And with as many times as Riya had changed schools, that sort of familiarity could be soothing.
Colt hadn’t let her dwell on Courtney’s reaction earlier, introducing her to his friends and practically drowning her in questions. If only Courtney could be as happy to catch up as her twin had been. They had been best friends once.
A parade of people streamed in front of the room, Riya managing to catch the barest details. Bob Fazio, the director, stood not much taller than the eleven-year-olds and seemed like the kind of guy several kids called Uncle Bobby. Betsy, the cook, gave a single wave and the flash of a smile before returning to the kitchen.
Then came Dane and Dewey, the lifeguards. No relation, despite the alliteration. One was an Australian Abercrombie model-in-training, making the girls in the room sit up straighter, and the other was scrawny and obviously nervous in front of such a crowd, which Riya could certainly relate to. She couldn’t remember which was which.
Then came Jacob, who elicited whispers from the girls around Riya when Bob introduced him as his nephew and junior counselor. Nancy, a kind-looking woman, was introduced as the arts and crafts director.
A breeze ruffled her ponytail, and Riya’s gaze snapped to the door. Courtney strolled in like a freaking Nordic goddess with her head held high, cheeks flushed and skin glowing. Sun-kissed legs stretched up from a pair of sparkly sandals for miles and miles until finally disappearing under the hem of low-hung white shorts. Flashes of smooth stomach teased as her pink top moved with every graceful step.
Riya’s heart pounded in her chest. Courtney Chastain was trying to kill her. That outfit was a perfectly crafted murder weapon. Checking to make sure her mouth didn’t hang open, Riya tore her gaze from Courtney and swallowed. Hard.
Beside her, Colt slid down the bench, away from Riya. Riya didn’t know why until Courtney froze five feet from them. She glanced at Riya then shook her head at her brother. Colt rolled his eyes in response, patting the sliver of bench between them.
“Miss Chastain, please take your seat so we may continue,” Bob Fazio called, a small chuckle breaking through his voice.
It was then Riya noticed she wasn’t the only one distracted by Courtney’s entrance. Excluding her brother, every boy in the room age twelve to eighteen stared in their direction—and some of the girls, too.
Riya watched a wide range of emotions pass over Courtney’s face in less than a second before she straightened her shoulders in some kind of resolve. Her hair tumbled to her elbows in gentle waves. Sighing, she tossed the golden strands over her shoulder before spinning and squeezing her hips between Riya and Colt.
The welcome talk continued, but Riya only caught fleeting fragments of the briefing. Something about the daily schedule and a talent show on the last day. Approximately 98 percent of her attention narrowed in on the seven inches of Courtney’s white-silk skin pressed against Riya’s outer thigh.
Riya took a deep breath to steady herself but caught the sweet rose petal scent wafting from Courtney. She inhaled one deep breath, reveling in the heavenly smell, before shaking her head.
Ridiculous. She was being completely ridiculous.
She’d never let anyone have such an overwhelming effect on her. Certainly not someone like Courtney, someone who couldn’t—or wouldn’t—return her affections. Someone who had broken her heart four years ago and never once looked back.
Riya stared at her own shoelaces, actively un-focusing on the girl sitting next to her.
Trying to, anyway.
Next thing she knew, everyone stood around her and the room buzzed with conversation. The welcome event was over.
“Earth to Riya.”
Someone bumped her shoulder with theirs, and she looked up to find Colt’s friend Trey smirking at her. Colt had introduced them before they’d