I HID BEHIND one of the trees.

I watched him kick dirt.

I watched a war rage on his face, a battle in his muscles, flexing all around his body as he turned in a small circle.

And then his shoes went flying.

His shirt was gone.

I sucked in a shallow breath at the sight of him.

Of his beauty.

Marlo was like this barely restrained animal; every muscle flexed without warning, even his jaw seemed to be cut from steel. He clenched it as if he needed to feel physical pain.

And then he turned on some music. It only took a second before I recognized “Zombie” by Bad Wolves. He blared it loud enough to consume my thoughts and scare every animal within a five-mile radius.

He moved his hands, so slight, so purposeful that it drew me in, sucked me away from my pity party and invited me to watch.

And I lost all sense of reality as I followed him on a journey I knew there would be no coming back from.

Contemporary dance was my favorite to watch. I knew the biggest fault I had with dancing was the obvious — I couldn’t let go. I couldn’t trust the audience to see my pain, to feel it with me, to experience it again and again with its crippling agony.

I wasn’t that brave.

Marlo was.

He thrust his right foot into the air and twisted his entire body then came down and kicked up more dirt, the movement so natural it was hard to tell if the plume of dirt was accidental or part of his performance. He flipped back onto his hands and then collapsed to his knees as sand flew around his body. His hands sank into the grains, and he gripped the earth as if it was his only tether, as if it was both fighting him and grounding him. When he pulled his hands back, he roughly rubbed the sand up and down his arms and stood. Grit now coated his face, his entire body as the music slowed. He lifted his hands into the air and let them hang as though in suspension. His fists clenched. Then he brought his hands down and beat his chest. Another spin had him flying in the air, the dirt coming with him, and he landed again on his knees in the sand. Sand exploded around him, covering his face and body again as he moved with the music, swaying back and forth, gripping his head like the melody was torturing him, as if it threatened to release his demons — as if he wanted it to.

Mouth dry, I stood watching as tears welled in my eyes. On the next verse, he stood, his body trembling as the music slowed. Each line he made with his body was perfection.

Another spin, and he was on the ground again, rolling around with the sand, one with both the earth and the music.

I couldn’t see where he began, where the beach ended.

All I saw was music.

All I heard was his body crying out with the feel of it, with the need to tell a story in such a violent way that he couldn’t hold back even if he’d tried.

And as the song neared its end, he collapsed onto his knees, hands uplifted, then he jumped to his feet and did an aerial before falling back onto the beach and bouncing into a backflip. Sand spun around and around his body until it was like a tornado of grit and emotion.

And like that, it was over. The song ended. Only the gentle lapping of waves on the shore broke the silence. Marlo’s chest heaved, but otherwise he didn’t move.

And I knew.

I had seen not just a dance.

But a man expressing his emotions in a way I’d never experienced before.

He hadn’t held back.

Because men like Marlo didn’t know how.

And as I quietly walked back to the privacy of my cabin, I wondered if what Brax and Jackson had shared was true.

Had he fallen for the woman first?

 

 

I DIDN’T NECESSARILY want to go to the late-night staff get-together, mainly because I imagined it would be about as uncomfortable as showing up at a party naked.

But Jen had convinced me.

Plus, apparently, it was Greased Lightning night.

Who knew?

I hadn’t brought a ton, but I did still have my leather leggings, so I threw them on with a pair of flat sandals — so I didn’t trip on a tree branch and meet my untimely death — and then grabbed a white crop tank. My hair was a raging mess on account of this morning I’d been under the shower without conditioner and hadn’t had time to really do anything with it except stare at the tangles in the mirror and be reminded of what it had felt like to have Marlo pull it.

Great.

By the time Jen knocked on my cabin door with a giant grin on her face, I was hot and bothered and pissed all at the same time. How dare he still have control over me hours later!

How dare you spy on his special dance and imagine another nighttime routine.

Right.

I was going to lose my mind before the summer was over.

The soundtrack to Grease filled the night air as we walked in silence toward the giant bonfire.

Campers were supposed to be in their cabins by nine.

It was our only time to decompress, to be stupid college kids before joining the work force by taking on three jobs at three different restaurants while trying to support ourselves as starving artists.

Jackson was standing on one of the stumps combing his hair back, jiggling his leg. “I got chills, they’re multiplying, and I’m losing control…” He winked over at us.

“He can sing,” I said dumbly, a bit awestruck.

Jen sighed in annoyance. “It’s how he gets so much ass. He’s like a black widow that lures you into his Justin-Timberlake-themed web only to wrap you like a fly with each verse.”

“Graphic.” I nodded with a small smile. “Does that mean he Justin Timberlaked you right into bed?”

She scrunched up her nose. “That, paired with his ability to talk any human out of all clothing… yup, pretty much!”

Jackson held out his hands as a few of the guys jumped behind him and started dancing. That was the thing about theater camp — we were all cut from the same cloth. We lived to perform, to act, to sing. Most of the staff members were triple threats. Broadway? No problem. Choreography? Easy. Golden Globe? Nailed it.

We couldn’t be hired for this camp and not have talent.

Nerves erupted in my belly.

I had to make this work.

Then again, it wasn’t like my parents were supportive anyway. What if I just did it? What if I just moved without the agent? Without any sort of security from them?

All they had to offer me was money.

And even that was given only when they deemed it reasonable or felt guilty.

I let out a sigh, not realizing I’d walked all the way up to Jackson until he grabbed my arm and pulled me up on the stump with him. “You got second verse.”

That was all he said before wrapping me around his arms and thrusting me into a dance — body roll, body roll, hip swivel.

My eyes widened as Jen grinned and lifted her hands into the air. “Justin Timberlake web!”

Hmm.

I hopped off the log and shoved Jen toward Jackson. His smile fell a bit as he pulled her onto the log and repeated his movements, but this time… this time I noticed something.

When I’d been up there, he had touched my hips.

With Jen up there — it was like he was afraid to touch.

Interesting.

His movements slowed as she sang, and then with a laugh, she finished the second verse and shoved him off the log. “Where my pink ladies at?”

A few of the girls ran over to me and suddenly I was in my own version of hell as the girls started snapping their fingers and then falling into choreography around me.

I either had to join or run.

I eyed Marlo on the other side of the fire, watching the dancing, watching us.

His look made my decision easy.

I fell into step with the rest of the girls and let myself believe nobody was noticing as we danced around Jen and sang the rest of “Summer Lovin’” while the guys circled us, snapping their fingers and twirling around, and then someone grabbed me by the waist and flipped me 180.

Every girl was paired off.

Unfortunately, my other half was Marlo.

And he was touching me again.

He twirled me and then picked me up and swung me around his back.

I didn’t want to crack my neck, so I let him lead and prayed I could remember how to swing dance without meeting an untimely death against the campfire or nearest rock.

He flipped me backward over his arm.

He gave me no choice but to trust him.

And as the music ended, and everyone erupted into cheers, his hand lingered on my waist, pretending to belong there.

His eyes locked on mine as if they couldn’t look away.

This morning, he’d been moving inside me.

And right now, we couldn’t even use words.

I was afraid if I spoke, I’d yell.

I was afraid I would scream my truth.

Afraid I would cry.

Worried the last parts of me that I kept safe would be unlocked, and he’d throw away the key, laughing.

Revenge sex, revenge sex.

I jerked away from him.

He let me.

And as staff around us started dancing and singing again, I made my way over to a log and sat by myself.

I wasn’t there for long.

Soon Jackson joined me.

Wordlessly, he handed me a cup of something that smelled strong and then whispered under his breath, “I may know a few things about mistakes.”

“Oh?” I turned my head.

But he wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at Jen, and his usual smirk or arrogant smile wasn’t there.

No, it was raw.

It was this insatiable hunger.

“You could fix it, you know.” I elbowed him. “She’s right there.”

“That’s the thing about people like us, Ray.”

I frowned. “Excuse me?”

“People like us, we don’t let people in. We’re too afraid they’ll run away screaming. A girl like Jen… she wouldn’t stay long enough, and I don’t think I could survive being abandoned or finally having to look at myself in the mirror and ask the question…”

My throat went dry, my stomach heaved. “What question?”

“What if she saw me — and it still wasn’t enough?”

“Jackson—”

“Don’t Jackson me.” Now the arrogance was back as he leaned in. “You do the exact same thing. You’ve got a fucking wall built around you. The best thing for people like us is to find someone who forces us to question why the hell we’re so afraid in the first place.”

“You’re afraid?” I found my voice.

“We all have our things.” He shrugged and then smiled. “Isn’t she pretty?”

My heart broke a bit. “She’s beautiful.”

“Yeah. I’d like her to stay that way. Beautiful. Unobtainable. Untainted by my baggage. I think I’ll keep her on that shelf, where I can look but tell myself I’ll just shatter her if I touch her with my grimy hands.”

“Sounds like you’re making that decision for the both of you.”

He let out a snort. “Sex confuses girls. Trust me. She’ll tell me she’s fine, and then one day there will be tears. There are always tears. And then I’ll feel like shit because I’ll start stacking my baggage around me, and then she’ll feel like she has to break through it, and then I’ll have to tell her that it’s a crutch, that I need it there to survive. And then she’ll go back to that shelf worse than before. No, I’ll keep her there. She’s safe. Pretty and safe.” He leaned forward and then shook his head as if it was foggy. Some of the liquid in his red cup spilled out onto the dirt.

I frowned. “How drunk are you?” I finally asked a few minutes later.

He’d started to sing under his breath about unrequited love and then had cussed out a mosquito.

“Oh, I’m completely fucked.” He nodded seriously. “How’d you know?”

I bit down on my lower lip and patted him on the back. “Yeah, let’s get you some water, champ.”

“What’s that?”

“Water?”

“I don’t know what water is.”

“Yeah, a lot of water.” I helped him to his feet only to have him stumble, putting his entire weight down onto my body. “Whoa, there…”

“He okay?” Marlo grabbed his other arm and put it around his neck.

We started walking toward Jackson’s cabin as if we’d planned on the arrangement, when all I wanted to do was let Marlo carry Jackson while I ran in the opposite direction.

“He’s completely tanked,” I said in a calm voice, despite the hammering of my heart. “Does he do this a lot?”

“Only when he needs to forget.”

“And he needed to forget today?”

Marlo’s jaw tightened. “He’ll be fine.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” I asked as we made our way up the stairs into the small cabin.

“It’s not my story to tell, Ray.” He grunted and flipped Jackson onto his bed.

Jackson burst out laughing. “Marlo!”

“Hey, man.” Marlo smiled. “We’re gonna get you some water and aspirin, all right?”

“She’s dead still, huh?” Jackson asked.

“Shit,” Marlo said under his breath. “Yeah, she is.”

“I loved her.”

“I know.” Marlo sighed. “I know you did.”

“I fucking hate aspirin.” He shook his head. “No aspirin. Reminds me of how she left. She left me.”

“She was sick,” Marlo said in a soft voice. “Remember?”

“It was my fault, wasn’t it?” Jackson grabbed a pillow, hugged it, and then started snoring.

I was too stunned to do anything.

Marlo grabbed my arm and basically dragged me out of the cabin. “Not a word to anyone.”

“What would I even say?” I threw my hands in the air. “Someone needs to stay with him!”

Marlo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, he’s going to wake up really pissed. He hates hangovers and hates being drunk, but it’s his weird way of honoring her death.”

“Her death,” I repeated, my mind going a million miles a minute. “Someone he loved died on this day…?”

“Three years ago.” Marlo shoved his hands into his pockets and looked away. “She committed suicide. She was on staff at camp.”

“They were friends.” I nodded in understanding.

Marlo let out a harsh laugh. “No, Ray, they weren’t friends. They were siblings.”

I covered my mouth with my hand as my heart thudded against my ribs. I felt as if I couldn’t suck in enough air to survive the next minute.

All I wanted to say was “Me too.”

He hadn’t committed suicide.

But he was dead.

And when someone you love dies, it doesn’t just leave you empty…

It leaves the world worse than before.

“Everyone has their demons.” He put his hands on his head and then slammed his hand against the door.

“And who was she to you?” I whispered, almost afraid to find out.

He looked back over his shoulder. His eyes were wild, and then he said. “She was my replacement for you.”