Page 62 of Faking Summer
"I’ll always stand up for you," he said, stepping closer. "But knowing he tried to... do that to you? I could’ve killed him for thinking he had the right to touch what’s mine."
"But I’m not actually yours," I stuttered, the words tumbling out with confusion. For a second, I forgot about what this was, because the feeling of being his almost felt real. A part of me wanted to believe it could be—wanted to believe happiness for me was possible. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t.
"He doesn't know that," he shrugged. "But I promise you, Caroline, nothing like that will ever happen again. I feel sorry for anyone else who tries to fucking test me."
I could see the turmoil on his face, his vulnerability. It was so much different than the image of him that others saw: the confident pitcher, the untouchable bad boy. There was intimacy in his admission, like a secret, one that I wanted to keep close to my chest.
"What you did out there for me... I’m so grateful, but honestly, I don’t deserve it." My voice wavered, betraying the emotions I was barely keeping in check. "Reese, you’re going to do big things. You have so much ahead of you. You shouldn’t be fighting anyone—not for me. No one’s worth risking your future."
“Rule number one of being a fake boyfriend is always defending his girlfriend," he said, barely holding back a smirk.
"I didn’t know there were rules," I replied, the corners of my mouth twitching. "I like that one… but maybe just use your words next time."
“No promises,” he said. Then, the blood on Reese's knuckle drew my focus.
My own fingers trembled as they traced around the injury in the center. "Your hand," I whispered.
Reese glanced down at his hand between mine. "It's barely a cut."
Turning on the faucet, I coaxed his hand under the cold stream. The water cascaded over his knuckles, washing off some of the blood. Beneath my fingertips, I could feel the thrumming of his pulse starting to slow, the silent aftershocks of adrenaline that had been pumping through him beginning to steady.
"Really," Reese said, over the sound of running water, "it's not a big deal."
Reese's shoulders finally started to relax. The comforting smell of his cologne was wrapping around me as I sought his eyes through the reflection in the mirror. "Will you take me home?"
He turned, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear before draping an arm around my shoulders—his touch giving me the energy to breathe again. "Yeah, let's get outta here," he nodded.
“Call me later,” I shouted to Sam as we passed by her, who was in Crew’s arms.
She nodded before Reese and I made our way outside. The night air swirled around us as we stepped out into the dimly lit parking lot, leaving the distant laughter fading behind us.
"Did you beat him up badly?" I asked, breaking the silence. I hated the idea of them fighting over something that had to do with me, but still, I couldn’t help but be curious about it. I was only human.
Reese paused next to the passenger side of his truck, his hand finding the door handle before he turned to face me. "Stop worrying about it. He'll be fine ina few days."
I watched as his long arm extended toward me, his calloused fingers gently guiding me inside his truck. Reese closed the door with a soft thud, and then strode around to the driver’s side.
As he slid inside, I fastened my seatbelt. "Are you okay to drive?" I asked softly.
Reese shot me a sidelong glance, his green eyes glinting in the dim light of the dash. “Yeah,” he said with a half-smile. “You pulled me outta there before I even had a drink.”
"Couldn't let you walk around there all hurt and wounded," I teased.
"Wounded?" He chuckled, turning the key and plunging us into the night. "I’ve had much worse from baseball… and you should see the other guy."
I could only imagine the damage he could do, the secrets he kept tucked away. I turned my head to look at him. His confident lines were softened by the darkness. As Reese's truck turned onto my street, the familiar surroundings welcomed me. I had driven down this street countless times, but doing it with him felt different, as if even the ordinary roads in this average subdivision knew Reese belonged to another world.
As the engine died, the silence grew heavy. The only light coming from my house was the soft glow from the porch.
"Are your parents home?"
"No," I murmured, opening my door. "My sister had a dress fitting a few hours away, which apparently is so important that my mom and dad went with her."
He nodded once, a barely noticeable dip of his head before he opened his door and slid out. We walked quietly before I turned the key in the lock and pushed open my front door. Reese followed me inside and shut the door behind us.
"Wait here," I said, pressing my palm against his hard chest. "I'll be right back."
I slipped down the dark hallway that led to the main bathroom.Rifling through the medicine cabinet and closet, I gathered some items.
