Chapter 36

Time skip, its the end of the session, and all the campers have gone home. Its time for the counsellor party, hosted at Noah’s cottage this time. Me, Annabelle, Emily, and Caitlyn pull up in my Bronco, blasting music.

The cottage smells like pinewood, alcohol, and sunscreen. Music is blasting from someone’s phone, laughter bouncing off the walls, and the air is sticky from too many bodies in too small a space.

I walk in with them, trying to keep my bandaged leg under control. My chest is tight with anticipation—and anxiety. This is the first real “off-duty” night for the counsellors, and I know exactly who I’ll have to dodge—or tempt—depending on my mood.

Quinn is already there, leaning against the railing of the deck outside, clearly already drunk, one oversized hoodie half unzipped, tank top underneath clinging just enough, legs crossed, hair messy, that crooked grin plastered across her face. She catches my eye immediately.

“…About time you got here,” she calls, voice low, teasing. “…I was starting to think you’d chicken out.”

“…Please,” I mutter, trying to sound annoyed, “…like I would.”

“…Sure,” she replies, stepping closer, moving just enough that the heat from her body brushes mine as she hands me a shot. “…You’re so fragile, Kennedy. I could crush you.”

I glare, cheeks heating. “…Yeah, right. Not scary at all.”

“…Mm,” she hums, leaning in just enough that our faces are almost brushing. “…I like that.”

Inside, the party is chaos. Staff and counselors everywhere, dancing, laughing, drinking. I try to settle with my friends, but every few minutes, Quinn appears—hovering, teasing, making small, inappropriate comments loud enough for me to hear but quiet enough that no one else notices.

“…Careful,” she whispers as she passes me, fingers brushing my hip. “…Don’t spill that drink on me. Or maybe do. I wouldn’t mind cleaning it up.”

I nearly choke on my own sip, blinking at her. “…Quinn!”

“…What?” she grins. “…You like it.”

“…Do not!” I hiss, cheeks flaming.

“…Do too,” she teases, pulling back just enough to leave me wanting, licking her lips slightly like it’s a challenge.

I step outside for air, hoping to catch a breather. The cool night is a relief, until Quinn appears beside me again, holding her own drink, that crooked grin still there.

“…You know,” she murmurs, voice low, “…I’ve been thinking about our little lake adventures. You falling, me saving you…”

I groan. “…You’re terrible.”

“…Mm,” she hums, voice teasing, “…and you love it. Admit it.”

“…I hate you,” I mutter, though my body disagrees entirely.

She laughs softly, leaning just a little too close, chest brushing mine. “…Sure you do. Can’t resist me, Kennedy. Don’t even try.”

I turn my head, pretending to look at the stars, but I feel her smirk against my shoulder, her presence dangerously close. Every nerve ending is alert.

Later, the music shifts. Someone cranks the bass. Staff start dancing like fools. Quinn grabs my hand, dragging me into the crowd.

“…Dance,” she commands, smirk full-on now, “…or I’ll take over your entire weekend with ‘supervised fun.'”

“…You’re insane,” I whisper, trying to pull free, but she holds firm. “…I’m not—”

“…Shh,” she cuts me off, leaning in so close our faces almost touch, “…you don’t get to talk. You just follow my lead.”

And somehow, I do.

The rest of the night is a blur. Drinks spill. Laughter roars. Quinn presses close whenever possible, whispers ridiculous, dirty little suggestions in my ear that make my cheeks burn and my stomach flip.

“…I think you need supervision,” she murmurs at one point, voice low, breath warm against my neck. “…Too many hands on you tonight. I don’t like it.”

I flush red, swatting at her, “…Thats too bad.” I say sarcastically.

“…Oh i’m getting you back for that one,” she teases, cutting me off, smirk wide, and just like that, every ounce of control I had over myself evaporates.

By the end of the night, I’m dizzy, flushed, and completely caught in her orbit. Every glance, every touch, every teasing word—she’s dismantled every wall I thought I had up. And I hate it. But her plan worked.

And I know, without a doubt, that nothing in this cottage, this party, or this summer will ever be the same once this tension breaks.