Page 77 of Rival Summer

His gaze shifted away then, down the hallway, as if he was trying to avoid the question. "Oh, that's cool," he said, casually. "Wish I could go, but I can't make it this year."

The words hit me harder than expected, a sting of coldness spreading through my chest. I covered the hurt with a half-hearted nod and forced a smile, though I could feel my hopes crumbling.

"O—oh," I stammered. I desperately waited for him to say more, to give me something to help me understand.

The silence stretched, until Boston broke it with a single phrase that caught me off guard. "Chicago."

"Chicago," I echoed, searching his face, confused.

"The Cubs are flying me out." He shifted his weight. "They want to meet, see if I might be a good fit for them to draft."

"Oh, Boston, that's amazing!"

"Yeah," he forced a smile, "but it's the same weekend as the Bayside Ball."

Suddenly I understood why he wasn’t going to the ball. I tried to keep my face neutral, to hide the disappointment of knowing there was no chance we’d be able to go together. Boston's gaze lingered on mine, and I wondered if he was trying to decipher what I was really thinking. "Your future is way more important than some ball. Baseball is the priority. I get it," I managed to say.

"Chandler..." There was a hesitance in his tone.

"No, don’t even think twice about it." I mustered a smile, even though a tiny part of me couldn't help but still feel the stingof disappointment. "It's a big opportunity, Boston. You can't miss it."

"Yeah, you’re right," he nodded, before he glanced over his shoulder, a crease of urgency on his face as he looked toward the locker room. He leaned in swiftly, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

"I gotta get in there before coach notices I’m late and gets pissed,” he said in a hurried whisper.

"Okay," I tried to sound nonchalant, even as my heart raced with disappointment.

He was already turning away when he yelled, "Team's doing karaoke tonight. You coming?"

"Karaoke?" The question came out before I could consider it. "Sure," I whispered.

Then he disappeared down the hall, leaving me rooted to the spot, confused. The warmth of his kiss still lingered on my cheek.

A few hours later Willow and I walked into the bar, arm in arm.

"Karaoke night, huh?" Willow asked as we stepped into the dimly lit bar. The overhead lights cast a warm glow on the small stage where the DJ had just called Parker up next.

"Can't wait to see this," she giggled, her eyes shimmering with excitement.

"Go grab us a spot. I'll grab the drinks," I told her, pushing through the crowd towards the bar.

"Two vodka lemonades, please," I shouted to the bartender. As I reached out to hand over my debit card, a firm hand blocked mine, pressing it gently back towards me.

"Put those on my tab," Reese ordered, his presence suddenly towering over me.

"Thanks, Reese," I said, turning to face him. "You didn't have to do that."

He gave a nonchalant shrug, his green eyes avoiding mine. "All good," he tossed over his shoulder, leaving a trail of moody energy behind. What was going on today? Was everyone in a weird mood?

I shook off the brief encounter and carried our drinks over to where Willow had secured a table, just as Parker took the stage. "I Want You Back" by *NSYNC blared through the speakers, and he belted out the lyrics with more enthusiasm than skill, holding a beer in hand.

"Where are you getting the dollar bills?" I laughed as Willow playfully tossed ones at him.

"Always got to be prepared for a random strip club night. Happens more than you'd think," she quipped, winking.

It was impossible not to snicker at Parker's performance. Off-key and overconfident, he was definitely putting on a show—if you could call it that. Suddenly, a familiar warmth brushed against me from behind, and before I could react, Boston's breath tickled my skin.

"Hi, pretty girl," he whispered, his lips grazing my cheek in a soft kiss.

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