Cabin 14: Home Sweet Home

"Wow. It really is you," he said, "And here I thought you were still crying over me."

I snorted, loud and unladylike. "Yeah, because I've spent every waking minute pining for a guy I don't even know." I folded my arms and raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, do I know you?"

His lips curled into a slow, lazy smile. "That's cute." He stood up, towering over me, and took a step closer.

Too close.

"You forgot me already? I must not have made much of an impression."

"Nope. Drawing a blank." I tilted my head, plastering on my best innocent expression. "I mean, you do have that generic bad-boy look. Leather jacket, unnecessary attitude, commitment issues—you're practically a walking stereotype."

His friends snickered behind him, and for a split second, I thought maybe I'd won. Maybe I'd brushed him off, and he would let it go.

But this was Theo.

Letting things go wasn't his style.

"Generic bad boy?" His smile sharpened. "Funny. I don't remember you calling me that when you were in my bed."

And there it was.

My mouth opened, but no sound came out. Heat crawled up my neck, spreading to my cheeks. Of course he'd bring that up.

Of course.

"Must've been someone else," I shot back, my voice tight. "You're not that memorable."

"Right," he drawled, brushing a hand through his hair. "So forgettable you followed me home. Or should I remind you how you kissed me first?"

"I was drunk." Total lie. I remembered every second. Every touch. Every breath. But I'd rather choke on my own tongue than admit it.

"You weren't that drunk." He took another step closer, voice dipping lower. "Or maybe you just don't want to admit you wanted me. Still want me."

I laughed, short and harsh. "Wow. You really do think you're God's gift, don't you? Newsflash, Theo, you're just a guy who got lucky. Once."

"Once?" His head tilted, that maddening smirk still plastered on his face. "That why you looked at me like you wanted to do it again just now?"

I wanted to throw something at him. Preferably something heavy.

And sharp.

"You're delusional," I snapped, stepping back. "I have zero interest in whatever ego trip you're on."

"Mmm." He crossed his arms, muscles flexing beneath his t-shirt. "Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. But you and I both know that night meant something."

His words hung in the air, daring me to deny them.

And God, I wanted to. I wanted to throw it back in his face and walk away. But the worst part? He wasn't entirely wrong.

"You know what?" I said, lifting my chin. "Believe whatever helps you sleep at night, Theo. I don't care. And I don't know why you do."

For the first time, the smirk slipped, just a little. But he caught himself quickly, leaning down until his face was level with mine. "Oh, I don't care," he murmured, his breath brushing against my skin. "But it sure looks like you do."

I didn't bother answering him. I just turned my heel and walked out the damn cabin.

They didn't mention this in the brochure!

I didn't think I had an anger issue until I met Theo again.

"Aw, come on, Lex. You're not gonna walk away already, are you?" His voice chased after me, smooth and laced with mockery, like he knew exactly which buttons to press.

Spoiler alert: he did.

I slammed the cabin door so hard the walls rattled, but apparently, I wasn't done. My legs had a mind of their own because before I knew it, I was storming right back in.

"What did you just call me?" My voice came out sharp, cutting through the thick cloud of cologne and cigarette smoke.

Theo was now lounging on the couch, looking as unbothered as a guy could while casually ruining someone else's day. His brown eyes sparkled with that familiar, infuriating glint—the one that made me want to punch him and kiss him, probably in that order.

"I said," he drawled, stretching out the words like he had all the time in the world, "you're not a coward, are you, Lex?"

The nickname. God, the nickname. Like we were still those people. Like everything that happened didn't happen.

"Don't call me that," I snapped.

"Why not? It still suits you. A little feisty, a little reckless. Just like I remember."

I laughed—a dry, humorless sound. "Yeah? Well, you must be confusing me with some other girl who gives a damn."

His smile widened, but there was an edge to it now. "You can pretend all you want, but we both know you remember."

Silence stretched between us, thick with everything we weren't saying. The others had gone quiet too, but I barely noticed. It was just him and me, locked in this impossible, infuriating push-and-pull.

"Enjoy the cabin," he added, his voice a low drawl. "Looks like we're gonna be real cozy, roommate."

My stomach dropped.

"You're kidding."

"Nope." He popped the "p" with infuriating glee. "Cabin 14. Home sweet home."

This has to be some freaking joke.

I'm not paid enough to put up with Theo.

I stormed out of the cabin, slamming the door behind me with enough force to make the walls shake. I didn't care if the whole structure collapsed—probably doing everyone a favor.

Sharing a cabin with Theo? The universe had to be laughing its ass off.

I started my search for the camp's main office to confront whoever was behind this sick joke.

The camp office wasn't hard to find. It was the only building that didn't look like it had survived multiple zombie apocalypses.

I marched in.

A woman with reading glasses and a Camp Whispering Pines Retreat hoodie glanced up from her computer. "Can I help you?"

"Yes." I leaned against the counter, voice sugar-sweet. "There's been a mistake. A huge, tragic mistake."

Her brow furrowed. "What kind of mistake?"

"I've been placed in a cabin with a guy," I emphasized the word like it personally offended me. "A guy who shouldn't even be allowed near decent human beings, let alone me. I'm pretty sure it violates some human rights policy."

"We do co-ed cabins for the coaches," she said in a tone that suggested she'd had this conversation a thousand times. "It's to promote bonding."

"Oh, I'm bonded enough, thanks." I folded my arms. "Isn't there a spare cabin? A closet? A large cardboard box?"

She offered a tight smile. "I'm afraid not. We're at full capacity."

Of course.

"Is there really no—"

"I'm afraid not." She tapped her keyboard, already moving on.

I stood there for a moment, weighing my options—burning down the cabin seemed extreme, but appealing—before turning and walking out.

When I got back to Cabin 14, the other coaches had left. Theo was on the couch scrolling on his phone.

He barely glanced up from his phone. "Back so soon?"

"Bite me." I tossed my bag onto the floor harder than necessary.

"You're really making yourself at home," he drawled, smirking.

"Oh, don't worry—I'm not staying long." I marched into the bedroom area, staking my claim on the left side. "This half is mine. Don't touch it, breathe on it, or even look at it."

Theo strolled over, leaning against the doorframe with an infuriatingly relaxed posture. "What if I want the left side?"

"Too bad. I called it." I flopped onto the bed. "Unless you want to fight me for it. I'm not above violence."

"Tempting," he said, his eyes glinting. "But I'd hate to ruin your ego when you lose."

I scoffed. "I'd mop the floor with you."

He opened his mouth—probably to deliver another snarky remark—but before he could...

 I flung my suitcase onto the bed, yanking it open to unpack.

And that's when it happened.

The bra.

It flew out like it had been personally trained for chaos, soaring across the room in a graceful arc—and smacked Theo square in the face.

Silence.

He peeled it off slowly, dangling it between two fingers like it might bite. "Wow," he said, deadpan. "I always knew you'd throw yourself at me eventually."

"Don't be weird," I snapped, snatching it back. "And for the record, if I wanted to assault you with lingerie, you wouldn't survive."

His laugh was low, teasing. "Promises, promises."

I was halfway through hiding my embarrassment behind unpacking when his voice slid back in. "By the way, Duckie?"

I froze. "What?"

He walked over to my bed, reaching in to pluck out the most incriminating item in my suitcase—a tiny, well-worn stuffed duck.

"Cute," he mused, turning it over in his hands. "I always pictured you as the type to cuddle a brick or maybe a book on tax fraud, but this is...unexpected."

"Put it down," I hissed, lunging for it. He held it high above his head because apparently, he never matured past the age of twelve.

"Relax," he said, still grinning. "I wouldn't hurt your emotional support poultry."

"You're the worst." I snatched it back and shoved it under my pillow, trying to ignore the heat creeping up my neck.

"And you're fun when you're flustered," he countered smoothly. "We make a great team."

"We're not a team," I snapped. "And if you value your life, you'll stay on your side of the cabin."

"Oh?" He tilted his head, that smirk still plastered across his face. "Didn't realize we were drawing battle lines. Should I mark my territory?"

"Please don't pee on anything," I said dryly, plopping down on my bed. "I don't get paid enough to survive that trauma."

His gaze lingered on me, just long enough to make my stomach twist. "Looking forward to staying with you, Lex."

And just like that, the battle for Cabin 14 had officially begun.