Page 40 of Faking Summer
"We’re starting, everyone," a committee member yelled from behind me.
I closed my eyes for a moment, attempting to shut out the thoughts in my head. When I opened them, I was still there, doing my best to stay together. What if he decided not to come? Or worse, what if he arrived hand-in-hand with someone else, a more beautiful, drop-dead gorgeous kind of someone? How would I face the questioning eyes of my family? Our plan—the one thing we had painstakingly constructed—would crumble.
With a trembling hand, I fished my phone from the clutch, and big surprise, no new alerts. No messages. No missed calls. Not a single word from Reese. Tossing it aside, I positioned myself behind the podium. The murmurs from the crowd beyond grew louder, teasing at my heightened senses.
"You got this," I whispered to the empty space, the words barely a breath.
With a hiss, the curtain began its slow retreat, revealing the ballroom inch by inch. I forced a smile as I peered into the audience. My skin prickled with heat as the voices started to silence, the faces blurred together. And then my gaze found him—Reese. The world narrowed to nothing more than the distance between us, every sound fading into the background. He was sitting at a table, his posture relaxed. The seat beside him, blatantly vacant. I froze for a moment, feeling lightheaded from the rush of adrenaline and relief that flooded my veins. Reese was here. And he was here alone.
"Good evening, all. Welcome to this year's Bayside Ball," I began, still distracted by him. By Reese, sharp and smoldering. He owned the room in that suit. The way it hugged his broad shoulders, how it fit his tall, muscular body so well. His intimidating green eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, the room fell away. He looked so at ease, the epitome of nonchalance. Still, there was something undeniablymasculine about him that sent a shiver down my spine, making me feel confused. Why did he affect me so much?
I continued speaking, doing my best to focus. Awards were handed out, applause rose and fell. "And now, for Most Valuable Player," I announced, opening up the envelope. "This year, the award goes to… Boston Riley."
A murmur rippled through the room, and I felt the weight of surprise settle over the crowd. I figured this was going to Reese, but there it was, Boston written in blank ink, undeniable.
"Unfortunately, Boston couldn't be here tonight," I continued, striving for poise as I searched for a sign of him. Then, Reese rose from his seat, every muscle beneath that suit coiled with tension as he made his way out of the ballroom, his expression unreadable. Was he upset Boston had won MVP, or was it something else?
And then she moved—Chandler, her steps moving after Reese. My stomach dropped as I watched them both disappear.
The last of the awards were handed out as applause swelled around me. I stepped back, relieved to be done with my duties for the night. The curtains closed, and with the finality of that heavy drape, the music began—the signal that everyone could now enjoy the night and relax.
As I joined the ballroom, couples found each other, the slow song bringing them all to the dance floor. Where did he go? Why did the sight of Chandler going after him make me feel sick?
"Caroline, you did great," Sam said, her tone earnest, eyes bright with pride. "I may be partial," Sam continued, her hand lightly brushing my arm, "but I think you were the best committee president Bayside has ever seen."
"Thank you," I gleamed, offering a smirk. "I couldn’t have done it without you."
"Oh, they're playing another good slow song," she murmured, looking around. "I'm going to go find Crew. Just ran into twin sisters who said they’re here for him."
"Oh, no! Go get him, girl," I encouraged, grimacing.
Sam squeezed me, then she was gone. There I stood. Alone. Surrounded by couples drifting across the ballroom floor.
"Are we allowed to dance together? Or should I keep my distance?" Reese's voice slipped through the music, smooth and teasing, but there was an undertone of something deeper. I froze, the air catching in my lungs. There was a raw, unspoken question in his voice that dared me to turn around, to let the relief flood in, to admit how much I wanted him here.
I turned. Reese stood there, so calm, with his hands casually tucked in his pockets. The sight of him—so tall, so unavoidably perfect—nearly made me forget how to breathe. The dimmed lights seemed to highlight the firm set of his jaw and the unruly, sexy way his dark hair refused to stay in place.
"I’ll allow it," I said, a smile teasing at the corners of my lips.
Reese didn't hesitate. He stepped forward, extending his hand confidently. His warm fingers wrapped around mine, and the dance floor opened up before us.
My hand traced the line of Reese's shoulder, skimming over the fabric of his suit. His fingers found the small of my back, pressing gently, pulling me closer until the space between us vanished.
"Chaos," he rumbled. His warm breath fanned across my ear as we swayed, and I had never liked hearing that nickname more than the way he’d just said it. "You in this dress... it's going to bring me to my knees."
A shiver raced down my spine at the heat of his words. In his arms, I could almost believe in the possibility ofus—that there might be something real between us.
"Thank you," I whispered. "You look handsome." The words felt inadequate for the way the suit clung to his form, turning every head in the room.
Reese licked his lips before giving a half-smile. His hand was steady on my back. "I can pull off a suit," he admitted, the playful arrogance in his tone softened by something more tender. "But you're wearing that dress like it was made for you."
There was a serious danger in those eyes of his. They pulled you in even as his gaze warned you to stay away. My breath caught, hitching on the edge of a sensation too potent to name. This dance with Reese was more than just movement to music; it was intimate, intense, each step and sway was something much more than I could understand.
“Thank you.” I said, looking up at him towering over me. “I thought maybe you took off.”
"Nah," he said simply. "Just needed to step outside and think for a moment."
"Think?" The word drifted between us carefully. "With Chandler?" I asked, unsure if I wanted to know what they were doing together.
