Page 23 of Faking Summer
"Talk to me," I said, resting an arm on my knee—leaving no space for her to shut me out.
"Why?" she asked, softly.
"You made that scene. You brought me into this, so help me understand." The heat between us was undeniable, her body caught between my legs and the rough brick wall, trapping her into having this conversation. I wasn’t just boxing her in with my arms—I was trying to break through the icy fortress she’d built around herself. She’s always been snarky, a firecracker, but right now? She looked… breakable. And I didn’t like it. Something about this—about her right now—hit differently. If she’d just let me, maybe I could shoulder some of the weight she carried, take away some of the burden she refused to share. She didn’t have to battle whatever she was dealing with alone, not when I was right here. But I was last person she’d let in. And fuck, I wanted in.
She looked away for a moment, lost in thought or maybe just unwilling to look me in the eye. "Maybe I'm jealous of her," she admitted, and it was like that admission cost her a piece of her soul. "How easy she has things. How everyone, including you, thinks she's so beautiful."
I processed her words, letting them sink in. "What is it you want to hear, Caroline? That you’re fucking hot? Do you want me to tell you that my dick gets hard anytime I’m around you?" The words just came out, surprising even me.
Her lips parted slightly, a sharp inhale the only sound between us. I leaned closer, letting my hand hover near her jaw before trailing my fingers along the column of her throat, slow and deliberate, until they rested just below her ear.
“Because you’re hot as fuck,” I added, my voice nearly a growl as my thumb brushed the curve of her neck. A lazy smirk tugged at mylips. "Not exactly a ray of sunshine… but hey, some of us like a challenge."
In the dim light, I saw her breath catch before she swallowed it. "I think you are probably trying to make me feel better, but I know what’s going on," she said, looking down at her hands. "You're waiting for her to pick you. Just like Boston is. And he chose her, whether she picks him or not. He’s fully in when it comes to her, regardless of anything else."
I caught the pain in her words, and it struck me harder than I expected. Did I look this pathetic? That I’d just wait around for someone to decide between me and someone else? I had a soft spot for Chandler, I always would—and maybe some part of me hoped she’d realize there was nothing between her and Boston, and I was the one for her. But that wasn’t reality, and even I could see it now. Those two? They were always meant to be together.
“I'm not anyone's second choice, and you shouldn't be either," I said, casually shifting the watch on my arm.
Her posture seemed to deflate ever so slightly, but the lift of her chin told me she wasn't about to show any more weakness. "I don't even know why we're talking about this, like we’re friends or something," she spat out. "We’re more enemies than anything else."
"We don’t have to be," I confessed, my gaze locked on hers, unwilling to be the first to look away.
Caroline chuckled, but it was humorless. "Even if that were true..." She paused, and for a moment, she almost seemed hurt. "I still can't ever forget about what happened."
She pushed herself off the ground slowly until she stood over me.
"What happened? What are you talking about?” I asked, confused as fuck. Why was this woman so damn confusing? And once again, why did I even care?
"I'll apologize, okay?" Caroline stepped over my right leg. "I'll tell Chandler that I'm sorry, and I won't get in your business anymore. But please," she paused then continued, "don't try to pretend that you care about me."
As she walked away, I tracked every movement until she was gone from sight. But she was etched in my mind. My arms rested heavily on my knees, more confused than ever. All I knew was that there was a moment tonight when our eyes collided that something shifted, at least for me. I wanted to understand her, to keep finding ways to see glimpses of whoever Caroline really was.
eleven
Caroline
"Big night ahead, huh?" Sam nudged me playfully, misinterpreting my frown. "Your sister's final fling before the ring!"
The pace of this wedding was dizzying, each event blurring into the next as we raced through the festivities for Charlotte. The relentless planning that was in overdrive, the bachelorette party today, the shower coming up—was enough to give anyone whiplash. In this madness, how could it possibly feel right to Charlotte? How could she enjoy blazing through all of this?
"Something like that," I muttered, forcing a smile. "I'll catch up with you later if you decide to go out though.”
"Sounds good," she said, quickly fixing her hair before following me out of the bathroom.
I rushed out of the Blue Devils facility and sped over to my sister's house, knowing she would be furious if I was even a minute late. Just as I arrived, the limousine, which felt more suited for prom night than a bachelorette party, pulled up with all the subtlety of a marching band. It was just for the four of us—my sister, her best friend and maid of honor, my brother's wife, and me.
"Cheers to the bride-to-be!" I raised my glass, the liquid sloshingdangerously close to the rim as the vehicle navigated the streets. The ride over was a blur, punctuated by the pop of another cork. I matched their enthusiasm drink for drink, the annoyance of tonight dissolving with each sip.
The limo slowed to a stop outside Gin and Jerry's. The bass was thumping from within, and as the limo door opened, I peered out cautiously, hoping to go unnoticed. Relief washed over me as I stepped onto the pavement—no prying eyes, no whispers. I was happily in the clear.
"Come on, Caroline!" My sister's voice, bubbly with excitement, urged me forward.
The bar swallowed us whole, the bodies all around jostled and swayed to the music. My gaze landed on the familiar faces of the Blue Devils. The whole baseball squad was clustered around the pool table.
"Let’s do shots!" My brother’s wife, Kay suggested, her voice rising over the music.
"Definitely," I yelled, feeling the need to keep drinking to get through this night. We moved our way through the crowd, shoulders brushing against strangers, until we reached the bar. The bartender nodded in recognition at my sister, already lining up glasses.
