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Hilly cleared her throat and grinned. “I might have, uh, more to tell you, depending on what happens later.”
“Really? What’s later?” Buff leaned forward.
“He’s going to go with me and Nel on our nightly run.”
“Ooh,” Buffy rolled her eyes and gave a yummy moan. “Alone. In the dark. Needing a big, strong man to protect you from marauding bears…”
Hilly gave her a playful punch. “They don’t maraud, and I have spray for that.”
“Then what about if you, oops, accidentally trip, and he has to scoop you up in his arms and carry you back to the empty infirmary to bandage you up, but instead rips off your clothes and has his way with you?” Buffy sighed, her eyes growing dreamy.
Hilly snorted. “Right. Has anybody ever told you you’d make a very lousy romance writer?”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“So, you’re just going to play it cool and lay off for a while?” Welker asked Cisco late on Wednesday, wrapping up the first, long, sweaty workout he’d engaged in since his injury. It might have been too soon, but getting his muscles pumping felt awesome.
Cisco had spilled his conflicted guts during their physical exertion.
He lay on the gym mat now, lifting and mopping his face with the hem of his shirt. “I think it’s the right move.”
Hilly had seemed more standoffish than she’d even been after what she’d dug up about Bailey on Tuesday. Cisco didn’t know why, but he’d gone with the flow.
When she’d confronted her counselor, Lance admitted that, yes, he was interested in Bailey. But when asked if the girl reciprocated his interest, he’d only mumbled that he was working on it.
After finishing up with Lance and sending him on his way, Hilly had called in another of her second-year counselors, figuring that Lisha, whom she trusted implicitly, would know what was going on.
Hilly had hit the jackpot.
According to Lisha, Bailey was a bitch and a tease. A number of the counselors had noticed her leading Lance on, only to shoot him down later, taunting him with racial slurs and jibes at him being a geek.
Cisco didn’t get it. What was Bailey’s game? He’d seen his share of bullying in his life, but he’d never understood it. He’d always assumed it was the bully’s way of compensating for their own insecurities, but as far as he could tell, Bailey was pretty and smart. So, what was her problem with Lance? Could it be, like they’d mused, the girl’s odd way of showing her interest?
From what Cisco could see, Lance was a great kid. Was he a bodybuilder? No. Was he movie-star handsome? Again, not quite. But not many people were. What Lance was, was a cheerful guy, and from what Cisco had seen, the kid went out of his way to make everyone feel special.
Cisco shook his head. His forte was not to understand the mind of today’s teenagers, just to keep them safe.
He set thoughts of Lance aside, and went back to Welker’s question.
“When we went for our run after the camp had been put to bed, she was giving me a slew of ‘step back’ vibes I couldn’t miss. Something about the whole bullying aspect over Lance and Bailey’s situation really bothered her.” Cisco sat up. “I know that’s what Hilly’s camp is all about; keeping kids safe from intimidation, but she seems to take this incident extremely personally.”
“Do you think Hilly was bullied when she was younger?” Welk asked astutely.
It had been on Cisco’s mind.
“Yeah. I do,” Cisco confirmed. “First, she runs this specialized camp. Second, she won’t tell me anything about her past. And three, if I had to guess, she’s been skittish about starting something with me because she fears I’m going to hurt her in some way; maybe get some physical perks off her, then dump her.”
“Which is about as far from the truth as it gets,” Welker rejoindered accurately. “I’ve never seen you sidle up to a female for more than a drink and a spin in the sack. Hilly’s got you dancing way outside your normal two-step, buddy.”
“Don’t I know it,” Cisco admitted, grabbing a towel out of his bag to mop at the curls on top of his head. “You think I’m doing the right thing, backing off?” He’d pretty much kept things strictly in the friend zone when he’d gone on the night-run with Hilly. The only time he’d touched her was to catch her when she’d skidded on some mud. He’d let go almost immediately, despite wanting, viscerally, to keep his hands glued to her soft skin.
Welker shook his head. “You’re asking the wrong guy. I don’t have a clue what women want these days. At least not the nice ones.” He grimaced, smacking the sneakers he’d just removed, onto the hardwood floor.
Cisco wondered again if Welker’s sourness had anything to do with the lovely sheriff on their SWAT team who gave Welk shit all the time. Cisco couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he’d say his footloose and fancy-free buddy was a little smitten with the pretty deputy.
“Maybe you should ask Everlee?” Welker eventually suggested, coming out of his momentary snit. “She’s discreet, and always has good answers.”
Cisco had thought about it, but Ever was Mason’s wife, and Mason was Ellen’s son, and Ellen was employed by Hilly. If somehow his inquiry made it back through the grapevine, he might as well call it a day. Hilly would take any probing like that as a breach of trust, and she’d likely tear a verbal strip off him before requesting a new self-defense instructor from the chief.