Page 63 of Rival Summer

"Willow, I can't pull that off," I protested, eyeing the dress like it was cursed.

"Oh, girl, you can and you will," she insisted, her tone leaving no room for argument as she shoved the garment into my hands.

Hesitantly, I held up the small piece of fabric, stretching it slightly. "Alright, let's see how this goes," I said, hesitantly.

Stepping off the elevator into the lobby, the chatter around the bar hushed as all eyes turned our way. Clutching Willow's arm, I fought the urge to hide behind her confidence.

Boston's blue gaze found me. His reaction was a silent gasp, his hand pausing mid-air before his glass dropped down onto the bar with a loud clunk. He shifted, his posture altering subtly as if the sight of me had surprised him. A warm flush bloomed across my cheeks.

"Chandler, go back to the room," Parker interrupted our silent moment.

I turned toward my brother, giving him a glare. "Why?"

"You forgot to put your clothes on," he teased, never missing an opportunity to embarrass me.

"Shut up, Parker," I retorted, rolling my eyes.

"Looking good, Willow," he added, nodding at her.

"Why, thank you," Willow beamed, accepting the compliment with a flair that only she could pull off.

“We got everyone?” Bailey asked, looking around the lobby.

“Yeah,” Parker added. “Reese and a few others are already at the bar.”

“Then let’s go,” Bailey encouraged, pointing toward the exit.

The group's laughter faded into the background buzz of the lobby and we made our way outside. The night air greeted us as we crossed the street on our way to the bar nearby.

Boston held back just enough so that we lagged behind the others.

"Hi," I managed, suddenly aware of the space between us.

"You look fucking amazing," he bit his lip, sending a shiver down my spine despite the warm evening.

"Thank you," I whispered, surprised at how his simple words could make my heart race. As we walked, our hands brushed occasionally—a simple touch, yet subtle enough to be our secret exchange.

TWENTY

boston

As we approached the bar,the music’s bass bounced through the walls. It was a country bar with smashed peanuts on the ground, and the crowd was filled with cowboy hats.

"Should've known it'd be crowded on game night," Parker commented, his eyes scanning over the sea of bodies packed in the dimly lit space.

Weaving through the crowd, we made a beeline for the bar where the bartender was already pouring shots. We shouted our orders and waited, shoulder to shoulder, packed uncomfortably tight against the other patrons.

"Let's grab that booth before someone else does," Willow suggested, pointing toward the back where Reese and a couple of other guys had claimed space.

"Good call," Chandler agreed, taking the lead as we navigated through the crowd, drinks in hand.

Willow and Chandler slid onto the cushioned seats, settling into the booth. The rest of us stood around the perimeter talking about the game, but then we were interrupted.

"Hey, isn't that the pitcher from today's game?" A high-pitched voice pierced through the noise, turning heads as a trioof girls approached. They were overly excited and confident—a little too confident.

"Oh my gosh, it is!" another squealed, her gaze locking onto Reese.

One of the girls slid next to him, making her presence known. "I couldn't take my eyes off you when you pitched today," she purred, her admiration was evident. "Literally, the hottest pitcher I have ever seen."

---