Page 28

His eyes narrowed.

Yesterday, after he’d discovered every wearable item he’d brought to Camp Dix floating between the dock and the opposite shoreline, Darius had been forced to do something I suspected caused him genuine physical pain. Asking me for help.

At that moment, I’d thought about the perfectly “normal” pair of gym shorts folded inside my bag and then I’d thought about what a prick he’d been. So I’d handed him the skort. It had been childish, sure.

Vindictive? Probably

Petty? Most absolutely.

But it was also fucking hilarious.

Darius pointed at my shorts again. “You could’ve given me those.”

“I could have,” I agreed, shrugging.

His mouth opened and shut like a gaping fish a couple of times. “You gave me a fucking skirt, Alvin,” he hissed.

“I remember well.”

“You made me walk around camp in a fucking skirt.”

“I didn’t make you do anything, DeeDee.”

“I had nothing else because you’re an immature dickbag!”

“Sounds like a personal issue.”

“You threw everything I own in that lake!” he repeated, like that might change something. It didn’t.

“And? You can’t swim, Mr. Team Captain?” I bit the inside of my cheek. He looked ready to kill me and I probably deserved it. I knew why he didn’t spend more time in the lake than he had to. It was the memories. They haunted me the moment my foot hit that creaky dock too.

“I prefer this on you,” he snapped.

My eyebrows went up, and Darius froze as if realizing what he said. I slowly put down my fork. “You prefer this on me?”

His expression immediately darkened. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Sounded pretty clear to me, baby.”

“I meant you should’ve worn the fucking skirt.”

I leaned back and admired his swishy skort. “You prefer me in the skirt?”

“Jesus Christ. You suck ass.”

I let that one slide because we both knew I would in a heartbeat. “Make up your mind, DeeDee. You’re sending mixed signals. I love when you play hard to get and all, but my eggs are getting cold.”

“I meant you should’ve given me the shorts and worn the skirt yourself, asshole.”

“Oh,” I said, feigning innocence. I looked down at my legs. Then back at him. “Nah. My knees are too darling to hide.”

His jaw clenched tighter. “Seriously?”

“Besides, the skirt looks better on you.”

The table behind us erupted with laughter, and Darius turned his head. Every kid suddenly became fascinated by their breakfast, while silence stretched out like a wave that was moments away from tumbling over us.

I smiled sweetly as he looked back at me. “I fucking hate you.”