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The cool water washed away the sticky heat that came with the night. It would rain soon, you knew, but you didn't care. Your focus centered on the smooth lake against your skin and the fresh scent of the redwood trees surrounding the camp.
Nature often soothes you in times of distress. Living in Los Angeles robbed you of that luxury. Camp Redwood offered you the opportunity of experiencing it once again.
You closed your eyes and leaned back so your head bobbed against the surface of the lake. The water rippled around your prone form gently. A breeze rustling the leaves cut through the muted sounds of your friends partying in the cabin.
Coming to the infamous site of a violent massacre for the summer hadn't been on your list of plans. But Xavier had convinced all of you to join him as counselors for the reopening. The thought of being immersed in something other than pollution called you out to the middle of nowhere - and you couldn't be more at peace.
As you floated in the water, letting it lap over your exposed flesh, all tales of Mr. Jingles faded from your memory.
"Looks like we had the same idea."
The voice cut through the still night with a sultry blade. You gasped and whipped your body back down beneath the shroud of the water, eyes wide as they settled on Montana.
A smirk playing at her mouth, she picked up your panties from the pile of your discarded clothes and admired the pastel lace. She flicked her gaze back to you.
"I never knew you were such a tease, [ Y/N ]," she teased. "These are a bit slutty, don't you think?"
Heat bloomed in your face, chasing away the comfortable chill that helped cool you down in the first place. Anxiety flooded your mind as you wondered how much of your body she had seen - and if she had liked the view.
You hadn't always lived in L.A. When you moved to the City of Angels a few years ago, you had joined a jazzercise class to try and integrate yourself into your new environment. It was there that you had met a few friends that you didn't necessarily interact with outside of aerobics.
Except for Montana - and maybe Xavier, on occasion, and now Brooke.
Montana had chosen you as her partner for stretches. The way she could move her body never failed to swarm you in a type of warmth that left you desperate for more but that never was satisfied. She would walk around the locker room shamelessly, giving you an ample view of those lithe muscles and soft curves, making your mouth dry up and your lower abdomen to twist with heat.
