Page 48 of Rival Summer

"Right," Willow drawled, clearly not buying it. "Because Boston winks at everyone when he plays pool."

"Shut up," I retorted, taking a sip of my drink to hide my smile. Boston had always been my crush growing up. It was comforting when he was around—but lately I was feeling new, different things about him.

We leaned against the high table near the pool area, watching the game unfold. Boston was clearly in his element, surrounded by teammates. And yet, his glances kept finding their way back to me, each one sending a thrill down my spine.

"Go talk to him," Willow nudged, her tone laced with encouragement.

"Okay, okay," I said, taking a deep breath and steadying myself for the encounter. With each step closer to where he stood, the sounds of clinking glasses and boisterous laughter seemed to fade into the background.

Boston stepped away from the pool table to set his pool stick back, his look of concentration giving way to a warm smile as he noticed my approach.

"Hey," I said, hoping my voice didn't betray the nervous flutter in my stomach. "Thanks for breakfast this morning."

"It was nothing," Boston replied with a shrug. "Had to make sure you started the day off right."

"So thoughtful," I commented, my heart rate picking up at the proximity. "So, Willow caught you, huh?"

"Yeah, I was so quiet, too." He smiled, running a hand through his wavy hair. "I was slipping the last pot away when her door opened up. Just gave her a smile and said I was on my way out."

"Smooth," I teased, a playful smirk tugging at my lips.

"Always," he retorted. "Getting caught was worth it. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about last night. Practice was almost impossible to get through."

I inched a bit closer to him, feeling the heat from his gaze. "Which parts were you thinking about?" I asked, with a smile. "Please do share."

Boston's eyes darkened, a playful yet cautious smirk forming on his lips. "Don't make me say it," he warned, biting his lip. "Your brother's right over there."

I leaned in, my shoulder brushing against his arm. "What? You don’t think he’d approve?"

Boston's eyes flickered toward where Parker stood nearby, surrounded by teammates, before they rested back on me. A half-smile curved his lips, a familiar playful glint lighting up his icy blue eyes. He spoke so quietly I could barely catch the words over the conversations and music playing. "Probably not."

Then, as if moved by an impulse hidden beneath his casual stance, he reached out ever so slightly. His pinky trailed over mine before they locked—intertwined for a brief moment, a gentle touch that sent a surge of heat through my body. It was our own private exchange, hidden from the view of others, but it spoke volumes.

He paused, a shadow of seriousness crossing his face. "But I should probably talk to him soon... let him know how I'm feeling about you." His voice was steady, but I caught the slightest glimpse of something deeper, possibly apprehension—or maybe hope.

My breath hitched, and for a moment the noise of the bar faded into a distant murmur. That small gesture, the brush of his skin against mine, had sparked a tiny flutter in my chest. It was cute, it was thrilling, and it was reassuring. He had just confessed to having feelings for me, strong enough feelings to make him want to have a conversation with Parker.

"Hey, Chan, is flannel still in?" Parker asked, interrupting our conversation, his towering frame suddenly casting a shadow over me.

I looked up, smirking. "No, Parker, not for you," I joked, knowing full well that it looked fine on him.

"Damnit," he sighed, defeated. Before I could further indulge in Parker's attire, Willow and Bailey approached with their own agenda.

SIXTEEN

boston

"Move over,it's my turn to pick the song!" Bailey exclaimed.

"Too slow!" Willow said, darting towards the machine, her finger jabbing the button triumphantly. “Ha!”

"Ugh, you're lucky you're hot," Bailey grumbled, though the grin on his face gave away his attempt at any real annoyance.

"Please," Willow shot back, "feel free to keep the compliments coming."

Bailey leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "And that ass... How are you not seeing anyone? Is it because you're the coach's daughter?" His words, though teasing, carried a hint of genuine curiosity.

"Because I'm not scared to go there," he added with a lopsided smirk, as if challenging both Willow and himself.

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