Page 45 of Faking Summer
I wrapped one arm around her waist to pull her into me, while the other slid up the smooth expanse of her back under her shirt. A soft moan escaped her as my fingers traced the contours of her back, the sound reverberating through me like the sweetest music.
Any remaining resistance evaporated like mist in the heat of our embrace, and I felt her fingers slide under my shirt, tracing the lines of my abs. In that small, secluded room, nothing else mattered. There was an undeniable rightness in the wrong we were committing, and I lost myself in the taste of her lips and the feel of her against me.
And then, as if reality had decided to crash through the walls we'd just built around ourselves, the bathroom door swung open with a resounding thud. Time stopped as Caroline and I turned in unison toward the intrusion.
Boston stood there, his eyes wide, mirroring the shock that rippled through us. Beside him, Chandler's gaze darted between us in disbelief.
nineteen
Caroline
"Damnit," Reese muttered, raking a hand through his dark hair as he shifted uncomfortably, trying to regain some semblance of composure.
That was humiliating. I covered my eyes, horrified, the heat from the intensity of the moment lingering on my skin. "I knew I shouldn't have done that," I muffled the words into my palms. "They already hate me, now they're really going to hate me."
Reese exhaled, a sound caught somewhere between frustration and reassurance. "It's fine," he said, his voice low and surprisingly steady. His glowing eyes locked onto mine as I dared to peek through my fingers. “Boston and Chandler are together now. Why would they care?”
His casual dismissal was meant to comfort me, but he didn’t sound as confident as he usually did. Even so, there was something in the way he held my gaze that told me no matter the fallout, we were in this together.
"I was with Boston last summer, who is your brother, and you were with Chandler. None of this is fine," I whispered. With trembling hands, I smoothed down the fabric of my tank top before Itwisted the door handle. Recently, it seemed like there had been this subtle shift between Boston and Reese, like they were just starting to move in a good direction. Did this just ruin the progress they were making?
And then there was the kiss that was still tingling my lips. The incendiary, mind-blowing kiss that had my entire body on fire. It was more than just a kiss; it was that moment of pure, unfiltered passion that I knew people spent a lifetime chasing.
As I treaded the dimly lit hallway, I could hear the whispers, see the judgment in their eyes. Chandler and Boston were in the middle of it all, their heads close together, all eyes on me as I approached. A knot had formed in my stomach as heat crept up my neck, spreading across my cheeks. I felt exposed under the harsh, unforgiving light of scrutiny. Chandler's lips moved in conversation, and I couldn’t hear her, but the message was clear—I was the topic of the hour, another joke to everyone here.
I was frozen to the spot, a deer caught in the headlights of their mocking amusement. Then Reese approached. The whispers ceased the moment his arm draped across my shoulders, possessive and protective all at once, like a silent declaration that dared anyone to try him.
"If anyone’s got something to say, now’s your chance," Reese growled, his voice dark and dangerous. He intimidated everyone just as effectively as he commanded my racing pulse. He scanned the crowd, daring anyone to step forward. No one moved; not a single pair of eyes met his.
At that moment, I realized how the room held its breath. The power Reese wielded was not just in his status, or being the star pitcher—it was in the certainty that he wouldn’t back down to anyone. I knew he was trying to defend me, but I still felt the scrutiny and the accusations.
The crowd slowly shifted back into normalcy. I caught Willow's voice, trying to lighten the mood.
"Am I the only one who hasn't hooked up in my own bathroom?" she said, opening her fridge and grabbing a can.
"Well, baby girl, you're in luck," Parker quipped. "I'm willing to be the man who steps up to take that bullet."
Willow gave Parker a playful shove. "How honorable," she tossed back at him. "You're practically a knight in shining armor."
Their lighthearted exchange loosened a tightness in my chest, which I hadn’t noticed until it eased. I turned to Reese, the press of his arm a reminder that I wasn't alone in this fishbowl. "I have to get out of here," I murmured, my voice barely a whisper.
I passed the threshold of the front door and kept walking. My house was a ten minute walk, perfect for clearing my head,
"Where are you going?" Reese yelled.
"Out of here," I tossed back, not slowing my pace. I needed space, air that wasn't thick with tension and the lingering confusion.
"You're walking?"
I glanced over my shoulder. "No. I'm taking the spaceship."
A chuckle escaped him. It was a dangerous thing, that laugh—a reminder of how easily Reese could make you melt. With his charm, his annoying good looks, and that laugh.
"Are you being funny right now?" Reese questioned. "Is there actually a sense of humor in there?"
I stopped dead in my tracks, turning on my heel, allowing him to see the frustration on my face. "Why are you following me, Reese?"
"I’m walking you home… or at least to your spaceship,” he said, matter-of-factly.
