Page 36 of Rival Summer

"Fine." My response was short, but I was grateful for the distraction. Anything to pull my thoughts away from Caroline and Boston and the nauseating images that were flashing through my mind.

I reached for the envelope and tore it open, sending a shower of paper fragments into my lap. "Let's see what this roundbrings." I unfolded the note, not giving Reese the satisfaction of seeing me ruffled.

"Swap a clothing item to wear while grabbing a slice at the best pizza place in town," I read aloud. This was going to be interesting.

"Okay, so what are we swapping?" Reese asked in amusement.

I glanced around the truck's interior and spotted his gym bag. "What do you have that's clean?"

"Um," he began, as he kept his eyes on the road but reached in the backseat and rummaged through a bag, pulling out a jersey. "I have this."

I eyed it skeptically. "No, I'm not wearing your jersey. What else do you have?"

"Hm..." Reese looked down, then pointed to the shirt he was wearing. "This? But it's got my last name on it too."

"Holy balls, you really are conceited." I sighed. "Who only has shirts with their last name on it?"

He flashed a grin, all confidence and charm. "I came straight from baseball, what do you expect?"

"Right." I pondered for a moment, biting my lip. "Can I have your shorts?"

"Sure," Reese said with a devilish grin. "But I don't have anything on underneath them."

"Reese!" I exclaimed, half exasperated, half amused. "Why aren't you wearing anything underneath?"

"Again," he replied with a lazy shrug, his eyes locked with mine, "came from practice, just showered."

"Convenient," I whispered under my breath, already plotting the quickest way to win this round of the game. "Give me the damn jersey," I said, slapping my palm against my forehead in despair. Reese tossed it over with a teasing glint in his eye.

"What's in it for me?" he asked, his smirk growing wider. "Your panties?"

"No way in hell, Carrington." I rolled my eyes, glancing down at what I was wearing to figure out what I could offer him. "You can have my socks."

"Chandler, I'm not wearing your smelly ass socks," he said playfully.

"Reese, my socks don't smell bad!" I protested, though I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

"Still, I'm not wearing them." He shrugged.

With a huff, I searched myself for an alternative. An idea popped into my head. I slipped my hand beneath my shirt and slid off my tank top, flinging it at him. "Here."

He caught the piece of cloth, holding it up and eyeing it suspiciously. "How the hell am I supposed to wear this?"

"I don't know, Reese. You're a big boy, figure it out," I teased, knowing full well that the stretchy fabric stood no chance against his broad shoulders.

We parked near the pizza place and Reese, without hesitation, peeled his shirt off. I stole a glance—okay, maybe more than just a glance—at his defined muscles and the way his tanned skin seemed to glow even in the shade of his truck. But I quickly turned away, focusing on anything else.

As soon as we burst through the Derald’s Pizza doors, Parker and Willow dashed out, grinning like they’d just robbed a bank. Their swapped attire was impossible to miss: Willow was drowning in Parker’s Blue Devils shirt, looking surprisingly fierce. The shirt he was wearing, on the other hand said, “A Little Bit Dramatic” across the front.

"Nice shirt, drama queen!" Reese yelled at Parker, a smirk on his face.

Parker spun around mid-stride with his middle finger raised. "You're literally in my sister's purple tank top, Carrington. See you at the finish line!"

I couldn't help but snicker at them, but the competitive fire in me flared. I latched onto Reese's arm, tugging him forward. "Hurry up—they're beating us!"

"We'll catch them," Reese said, but he was already making his way to the counter. I stood on tiptoes to watch over the crowd as Reese ordered. The lady behind the register caught sight of him and did a double take, her lips quivering.

"Can I get two slices? Any kind—whatever is quickest, please. The lady gets feisty when she’s hungry," he said, winking at her.

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