Page 28 of Rival Summer

I bit my lip to suppress my embarrassment. "I don't know, exactly. But for me it means focusing on me and doing what I want—avoiding catching feelings for anyone at all costs." I punctuated the sentence with a smile, a performance of confidence I didn't entirely feel—especially now, after that kiss with Boston.

Internally, I winced at my own words. It wasn't the catching feelings part I was truly trying to avoid, it was the inevitable ache that followed—the getting my feelings hurt part. Still, I kept that vulnerability tucked away, hidden beneath the poker face I was trying my best to keep on.

Reese leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his green eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my heart skip. His playful smirk was still there, but there was something else—an edge of assurance.

"Trust me," he said, more genuine than I expected, "in my experience, you can't help when the feelings happen."

He flashed a quick dimple. It seemed genuine. And, despite my inner resolve, I couldn't help but wonder if he was right.If maybe feelings were impossible to hold back.

Willow's clearly fabricated coughing noises caught my attention, then. I turned and spotted her frantically waving me over to her.

"Uh, excuse me," I drawled to Reese, layering my voice with fake concern. "My friend seems to have caught a severe case of hairball."

Reese smiled and shot me a nod before resuming his poolside lounging.

"What’s going on?" I asked as I reached Willow.

She bit her lip, arms unfolding to reveal a red stain the size of Texas on her white shirt. "I'm having an emergency," she shrieked.

"What happened, Will?"

"This—" she gestured to the stain. "I spilled my drink on my shirt. Crew and I are winning at beer pong, and we're up again in five minutes. I can't just leave."

I reached for Willow's hand. "Come on," I urged, tugging her toward the house.

"Where are we going?" She whined playfully, letting me guide her without resistance.

"Not far," I promised. We found the nearest bathroom and I shut the door, sealing us away from the party.

"Okay, trade me," I said, gesturing at the shirt.

Willow's eyes widened. "No, you can't wear this," she insisted, arms instinctively crossing over the giant blemish.

"I'm tired and ready to go home, I swear."

For a moment, she just stared, still resisting before she responded. "You're pretty great, you know that?"

"Oh, I know," I said before we quickly switched tops.

We walked out of the bathroom and immediately crossed paths with Boston.

"Whoa," he said, pausing mid-stride, "Are we wearing our drinks now?"

"As a matter of fact, we are," I retorted.

Willow's arms wrapped around me for a hug. “Are you sure you can get home okay?"

"Sure," I said, mustering a smile. "I'll be fine." The truth was that I needed solitude, needed to sort through the tangled web of emotions that had tied me up in knots. The whole summer was meant to be about me—focusing on work, staying away from men, and any other complications, but all I wanted was to dive deeper with Boston.

"Nah," Boston interrupted with a casual confidence that made my heart skip. "I got it. I'll get her back safely."

Willow glanced between Boston and me, a knowing look in her eyes. "Well, if you're sure..."

"Really, it's no trouble," I protested weakly, but even as I spoke, I could feel my resistance melting away.

"You’re not walking alone," he said, his voice low and dismissive. "Plus," he added with a lopsided grin, "gives me an excuse to get out of here."

I managed a smile despite the fluttering in my chest. "Okay, then. Lead the way."

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