Page 48 of Faking Summer
"Holy shit, is that Caroline?" he gasped, squinting against the fading light. "I know she's evil, but she’s kinda hot."
Crew leaned forward, elbows on knees, and nodded slowly, as if seeing her for the first time. "I guess I never realized she had a bodylike that."
A grunt escaped me before I even realized it. "Can we not talk about her like that?"
They both turned their heads at me, confusion written all over their faces. Something slowly shifted in Bailey's expression. "Wait a minute," he drawled, "Is Caroline who you were just foaming at the mouth over? Was she the bathroom hookup that Parker was talking about? He said something about you and some witch but I figured Blair had trapped you in a bathroom again."
I reached for my beer, and took a long sip, buying time I didn't have. "I wouldn't say foaming at the mouth… and possibly.”
"Are you serious, dude? Are you into Caroline?" Crew asked, incredulous. I wasn't ready to dissect this subject, especially under their scrutiny. "You don't even like blondes."
"Does it matter?" I said quietly, almost to myself. Caroline was fiery, outspoken, complicated, but a challenge I never knew I craved. My gaze lingered on her as she stood poised at the edge of the ring.
Bailey snorted, his disbelief clear. "Wasn't she hooking up with your brother last summer? And—did I forget to mention—she's evil?" He threw his hands up. "But hey, Blair was evil too, so maybe that's just your type, Reese."
A smirk formed at the corner of my mouth, but it lacked any real humor. "And what if every girl judged you based on your past, Bails?" My eyes met his, unflinching. "You'd end up alone."
"Okay, but that's different," he shot back with a dismissive wave of his hand. "My personality makes up for all the bad things."
I let out a low chuckle, knowing full well that his personality was as much a shield as my own sarcasm. Bailey had a tough upbringing, but he covered it up with humor. We were two sides of the same coin—both hiding our scars, both pretending the past wasn’t beginning to catch up with us. But tonight, for reasons I couldn't fully articulate, I felt drawn to her, almost like I needed to protect Caroline.
"Maybe there's a side of her you haven't seen yet," I said, before tilting back my drink and finishing it.
"Yeah, alright. Can't wait to see how this plays out,"Bailey said sarcastically, but there was a slight hint of curiosity on his face, like he was beginning to piece together where my mind had been lately.
"We all know I think every woman deserves love," Crew added, breaking into our standoff. "Maybe she just needs someone like Reese to make her less… evil." Crew's statement, innocent as it might have seemed, maybe had some truth to it.
As I watched Caroline holding the cardboard sign up, I couldn't help but wonder about all the mysteries she kept hidden beneath her cold, hard surface. In the shifting shadows cast by the trucks' headlights, her presence was a flame, and I was undeniably drawn to it.
Cheering and shouts from the crowd grew louder, but it was the sharp, punctuating whistles at Caroline that got my attention. Each one sent anger coursing through my veins. I popped open another beer and sipped, the liquid barely registering as I watched her work the crowd, making every head turn. She didn’t seem bothered. Instead, she was almost uninterested in the attention. But for me, each whistle felt like a personal attack, an unwelcome claim, and I fought the urge to rise and confront the assholes objectifying her.
Bailey and Crew were focused on the match. The circle constricted, headlights bathing the two wrestlers currently knotted like a pretzel in the spotlight. Bear, "the Bulldozer” was announced the winner after the final match. Around me, engines rumbled to life. Some trucks pulled out, eager to leave. Others lingered, caught up in conversation as they packed up.
I glanced back to check on Caroline, who had two shadows trailing after her. My jaw tightened, anger simmering beneath the surface like a storm as I watched these men closing in on her. With a quick motion, I slammed my truck's tailgate shut, and strode toward her.
"Hey, we're just asking what you're doing after this," one of the men said.
"Actually," I drawled, blocking them from her, "she's going home with me."
Their heads snapped up, and recognition flickered on theirfaces. "Shit, Reese, we're so sorry, man. We had no idea she was your girl," one stammered, his voice cracking.
I stared him down, letting the silence stretch. "Well, now you do." I finally broke it.
"We didn’t know. No disrespect, man." They backpedaled, tripping over their words. I watched them go, feeling the weight of Caroline's gaze on me. I waited until they were out of sight before I turned to her.
"Not this again," she said, almost disappointed. "We're not around my family. You don't have to pretend. I could have handled that."
"I know you can handle it," I admitted, because I knew the wrath she could unleash. "But you shouldn't have to."
We began to navigate through the parked vehicles, taillights flickering all around us.
"Seriously, Reese," Caroline gave me an irritated look. "I can take care of myself, you know. You don't need to act like some... territorial alpha male who is about to pee on me to prove a point. We're not even really dating."
"I was just looking out for you. Those creeps were about to?—"
"About to what?" she interrupted, cutting off my sentence. "Reese, I have a knife in my boot and pepper spray in my purse. Always."
I always knew she was strong and fierce, knew about her faithful independence. But despite her preparedness, I couldn't shake the primal urge to protect her. It was infuriating, this need that swelled within me, unwarranted and unasked for.
