I already knew. I knew because I was this guy’s stalker, and that should’ve made me all giddy and euphoric. It didn’t. Instead, dread surged in my gut like an Olympic runner taking off after the starting gun popped.

My eyes moved up and up and up, over a defined chest to strong biceps and where they met his broad shoulders. His throat had the slightest stubble, as did his chin. I looked over his perfectly formed mouth, up to his nose and landed right on those hazel eyes that I swore were smoldering. Again.

Reese Forster was touching me.

Red alert, red alert.

His hands flexed on my arms before he chuckled. “Again with the questions?”

“Questions?” Aiden looked between the two of us.

He hadn’t dropped his hands.

He was still touching me.

I couldn’t even formulate a response except what was exploding up from my toes, my legs, my groin, my stomach, my chest, my throat. “If scientists are able to add a rhino’s horn to a horse through DNA manipulation, is that a real unicorn?”

Aiden made a gurgling sound, but to his credit, Reese didn’t even blink.

He responded right away. “No. That’d be a horse with a rhino’s horn.”

“Whaaat is happening?”

Reese ignored Aiden, finally dropping his hands—and yes, he left tingles where he had touched me. His eyebrows dipped down. “You’re a little odd, aren’t you?”

I snorted. “Fantastically so.” Somehow my hand found my hip in the most backward movement ever. I twirled and dipped it like it was an airplane going in for a landing. “You know me. Us camp groupies always have to keep you on your toes.”

His eyes remained locked on mine.

I was such an idiot.

Aiden was almost gawking at us now.

Then Reese gave a little grunt and stepped back. “You’re not a camp groupie. I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

Little did he know…

The door that connected the gym to the concessions burst open behind Reese, and I heard the familiar whisk-whisk-whisk of Keith’s khaki shorts before he bellowed out, “Charlie!”

I was right fucking here. I gritted my teeth.

Reese looked back.

Aiden stepped aside to see Keith too, and I stepped out from behind Reese.

“Oh!” Keith ground to a halt, that damn Boss mug in hand. He must’ve put hair product in his curls since breakfast because they looked wet. I’d bet my measly camp salary he was trying to impress the players, or the coaches.

Keith liked to pretend he was an expert on the sport.

To his credit, he did know quite a bit. He coached his daughters’ basketball teams, and one time I had to help. I’d been slightly impressed with the way he blew his whistle. Until it became annoying. He blew the thing every five minutes.