Page 43 of Stealing Summer

I stormed back into the crowded house party, my shoes stomping angrily on the hardwood floors. The music was pulsing, bodies swaying, but I barely noticed it all as I scanned the rooms for Willow. I had to find her, to vent about what just happened with Boston.

Just as I rounded the corner to the kitchen, I overheard a familiar nasally voice that belonged to no other than Blair. “I just can’t believe Reese asked her to the ball,” she was saying to her friends. “Chandler is so not in our league—she’s not even from Bayside. She doesn’t deserve Reese’s attention.”

I froze, my face flushing hot with embarrassment and anger. Of course, she was talking shit about me. How could this night get any worse?

I spun on my heel, no longer in the mood to find Willow. I needed a drink. Several drinks. I pushed my way to the kitchen and grabbed a red solo cup, filling it to the brim with whatever cheap liquor I could find. I downed it fast, relishing the burn in my throat.

The night wore on, and the drinks kept coming. With each sip, my problems felt further away—Blair’s cruelty, Boston’s confession, the mess of emotions happening inside me.

“There you are,” came a smooth voice behind me. I turned to find Reese, his green eyes full of concern. “Looks like you started the party without me.”

Despite my drunken haze, his charm still made my heart flutter. “Oh, hey,” I said, swaying a little.

“Whoa, take it easy.” He grasped my shoulders to steady me. “I think you’ve had enough for tonight.”

His strong hands felt comforting. I realized how much I had longed for him all evening. Reese had a way of making everything feel at ease.

“Let me take you home,” he said gently. Though he was hosting this party, his only concern at that moment was me.

Reese guided me outside to his truck, his eyes burning with a mix of concern and amusement, keeping a secure arm around my waist. The fresh air started to clear my fuzzy head. We drove in silence as I rested my head on the window, watching the streetlights slide by.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked as we pulled away from the driveway. I could hear the slight worry in his voice, but his teasing smile told me that he wasn’t too concerned about my well-being.

“Never better,” I slurred, trying to sound confident and failing miserably. My gaze drifted over to Reese, and I couldn’t help but stare. The warm light highlighted his handsome features, making him look even more gorgeous than usual. It just wasn’t fair how perfect he was.

“Reese,” I mumbled, my words thick with alcohol. “you know, it’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?” he asked, his eyes flicking towards me for a moment before returning to the road.

“Your face,” I said with a hiccup, giggling at my own absurdity. “It’s so... beautiful. You shouldn’t be allowed to look like that.”

He laughed, shaking his head. "Says the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," he replied. The sincerity in his voice almost caused my heart to stop beating. “And you complimenting me right now means you definitely had too much to drink tonight.”

“You’re right,” I sighed, resting my head on the cool window once more. “I take it all back, I didn’t really mean it.”

“There’s the Chandler I know,” Reese chuckled, clearly enjoying my drunken ramblings.

As the truck came to a stop, I felt more dizzy from the buzz than I had before. Without waiting for assistance, I flung open the heavy door. Before I knew it, my foot slid on the unforgiving loose gravel. Balance betrayed me, and I slipped out, my knee striking the sharp stones below.

"Damn it, Chandler," Reese scolded. He appeared at my side, his eyes scanned me. "You should've waited for me. Hang on."

"I thought I had it," I mumbled, more embarrassed than hurt now.

With a shake of his head and a sigh, Reese reached into the truck bed and pulled out a small first aid kit—the kind you'd probably find tucked away somewhere in my mom’s car, not the rugged truck of Reese Carrington. His fingers worked deftly, peeling open an antiseptic wipe with a practiced ease that seemed at odds with his tough exterior.

"Ouch," I winced as he dabbed gently at the cut.

"Sorry," he mumbled, his focus never leaving the task at hand. Once he was done, he placed on a bandaid with cartoon characters all over it. Reese's rough fingers were surprisingly gentle as he smoothed the strip over my wound.

I couldn't help but giggle at the sight, the irony too rich to ignore. “Kids bandaids, Reese? Really?"

"You never know when a pretty girl might fall and need them," he responded, the corner of his mouth quirking upward. It was a rare glimpse into the softer side of him that few got to see. Then he added, “But also, my little sister goes fishing with me sometimes. Gotta have them."

I lifted my gaze, and there it was—an unspoken desire in his eyes. They were burning with something more than just concern. He had a way of looking at me that made me feel truly noticed, something I had never experienced before.

At that moment, we weren't just two people sitting on the ground—we were the only two people in the world. My fingertips grazed the warm skin on his arm and the rich scent of his cologne filled my senses, intoxicating me further. And then he kissed me. His lips were soft and full, inviting me in to explore the hidden depths of him. The taste of mint lingered on his breath, mingling with the warmth of his embrace. Our tongues moved seamlessly together, the passion fueled by desire and longing. Every nerve in my body seemed to come alive, wanting him more than ever before.

Before I realized what I was doing, I had moved, my hands finding his chest for balance as I climbed onto him. My fingers found their way under the hem of his shirt, exploring the hard muscles of his chest. The gravel beneath us was forgotten as I straddled his lap, my heartbeat hammering in my ears. His kiss was addicting. My fingers tangled in his dark hair, pulling him closer, deeper.

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