Page 35 of Rival Summer

Bailey

Pointers, now! Drop em’ in the chat.

Reese

We all know Bailey doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing with his tongue.

I put my phone back in my pocket. "Caroline, you can't just—" I started, but she cut me off with a wave of her hand.

"Relax, Boston. It's just your teammates and the committee members who saw it. They're my best friends on the cheer team," she said dismissively. “Plus Willow and Chandler.” Her eyes flicked to mine, looking for a reaction. "Is that why you're upset? Chandler?" she asked, her voice suddenly taking on an edge. "Didn't she hook up with Reese last summer? Why do you even care?"

The mention of Chandler's past with him pissed me off, but I pushed the thought aside. "That's not the point."

"Please," Caroline scoffed. "Boston, everyone knows we hooked up last summer. And let's be honest, we'll probably hook up again this summer." She gave me a look that was meant to be enticing. "It's not a big deal."

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her words—completely over the entire thing. "Caroline," I said, lowering my voice, hoping she understood I meant every word I was about to speak. "It's not going to happen. Ever again."

She folded her arms across her chest.

"Yes, we hooked up last summer," I continued, "but I made it clear before anything happened that it wasn't going to go anywhere. And it isn't."

Her eyes, once playful, flashed with anger then. "Fine," she spat, turning on her heel and leaving me standing there. "I'll meet you at the truck."

Relief and unease coursed through me. What the hell was going through Chandler's mind? I knew she'd see that note. Knowing how stubborn she was, I wasn’t going to be surprised if this one incident made her hate me all over again.

THIRTEEN

chandler

"What the fuck,"I blurted out, looking at my phone screen, jaw on the floor.

Reese, leaning against his sleek black truck, arched an eyebrow in response. "What?"

"Did you see what Caroline wrote about Boston?" I said, my eyes scanning my glaringly bright phone screen once more.

I turned the screen around and he squinted at the words before his lips curved into a smirk. "Oh shit, that a fucking boy. Maybe we are related after all," Reese snickered, and shook his head.

I scowled, unamused by his unnecessary support. "It's not funny, Reese. Why would she say that?"

"Chill, Chandler. She’s probably just messing with him." Reese shrugged.

"No, I'm sure she's not." I pressed my lips together, trying to suppress the unsettling images flooding my mind. The thought of Boston hooking up with her, of him going down on her... I went queasy. It wasn't just disgust swirling in my stomach—it was a searing heat, a rage threatening to boil over. "Why is she so horrible?"

"That's just Caroline," he shrugged. "Trust me, she and I have never gotten along. She's hated me for as far back as I can remember, and anytime I get the chance to piss her off, I don’t hesitate."

"I wish I enjoyed being on her bad side," I said.

Reese leaned against the open door of his truck, arms folded, watching me with an expression that was half mockery, half genuine curiosity. "So, you wanna quit? Or should we keep going?" The corners of his mouth twitched, and I could tell he was barely holding back a full-on grin.

"Quit?" I spat, yanking my gaze from the infuriating message to meet his challenging stare. "Not in this lifetime, Carrington." Climbing into the passenger seat, I crossed my arms over my chest. "We're still playing. And now we're winning."

His smile broke free, lighting up those electric green eyes as he shut the truck door after me and climbed into the driver's seat. I stubbornly turned my attention outside, watching the scenery blur by as Reese pulled out onto the road.

"So, are you going to open the next envelope to tell me where we're going, or am I just going to drive around until you get over the fit you're throwing?" Reese asked.

"Fit? I don't throw fits," I retorted without looking at him, staring out the window. "Strategic displays of displeasure, maybe, but not fits."

"Ah, of course, how could I mistake the two?" he snickered, casting a sidelong glance at me. "Strategically display the next envelope, then?"

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