Page 12 of Faking Summer
I shook my head—a little too eagerly, perhaps—and Paisley smiled, as if she was about to change my entire perspective on him. "Well, they both said he was the best sex they’ve ever had. Wren had three orgasms the night they hooked up."
"And?" I prodded, curious now.
"And, well Wren, she hasn't been able to have another orgasm ever since. He ruined her." She leaned back, with pity in her voice. "Poor thing got Reese'd and released."
She cannot be serious. Reese’d and Released? Oh, hell no. This guy was out here strutting around like he owned this town, crushing souls with that stupid, smug grin. And even worse—he was basking in it all, like leaving a trail of emotional devastation in his wake was just another accomplishment on his rich boy resume.
"That’s probably why Blair's still hooked," Sam said, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "She can't get over him, always trying to win him back."
I shifted uncomfortably. "That's really sad," I murmured aloud.
"But he is dreamy though," Paisley sighed. "Has everything you'd want in a man."
I rolled my eyes at her comment, even as a part of me secretly acknowledged the truth in her words. He was annoyingly good looking, and I hated that about him, too.
Sam finally spoke up again. "I guess," she said skeptically. "Lives off Daddy's money and status only to eventually have his own wealth and power when he goes pro."
"Anyway, what's the deal with you and Wells Clark, Caroline?" Paisley teased, layering on another shade of lipstick.
The murmur of conversation around us seemed to hush for a moment, waiting for my response. But I gave them nothing, just a sip of my drink and a shrug.
"I heard he's into you," Paisley continued, undeterred by my silence, "and probably coming tonight."
"Awesome," I said aloud, tracing the rim of my glass with a fingertip. "Please, for the love of sanity, don't let me drink enough to hook up with Wells Clark."
I understood the appeal. He was a cute quarterback and all, but he couldn't ever keep an actual conversation going. And after the way things ended with Boston and me last summer, I knew the risks of starting to have feelings for the wrong person.
"Got ya girl," Sam said, pulling me back from my thoughts. "You're going home with me tonight."
six
Reese
The snap of the ball hitting Parker's glove was the only sound I needed—a satisfying pop, another out. The game narrowed to the silent conversations between Parker and me. Each signal in his glove, each nod or head shake—a language only we understood. The world beyond the diamond faded. Even the batters didn’t matter. It was just him and I playing catch—well that’s how I saw it anyway. The batters on the other side might not agree.
The innings flew by. No runs had been scored against us, but we weren’t making it happen either. We were well matched. It wasn't until the seventh inning that finally Boston tagged home. One to nothing. When the last batter struck out in the bottom of the ninth, our team erupted. We won. By one run, but I’d fucking take it. This weekend’s tournament was finally over, and we’d won it all.
"Let's celebrate," Bailey yelled as he threw his arm around my shoulder.
Crew chimed in, pulling off his batting gloves. "Let's go to that country bar across the street," he hollered. "Best part is, we can walk there from the hotel." We were a few hours away from Bayside, and we didn’t have to check out until tomorrow.
"Yeah, but we all know your ass will be crawling back drunk," Bailey joked.
I was all for celebrating the tournament win, but I also knew that Chandler—the girl I was kind of with last summer—was on the Blue Devils committee this year. Which meant she’d be around tonight. And while I’d been doing my best to steer clear of her, avoiding her completely? Yeah, that wasn’t happening. She’d be there with the rest of the committee members, looking gorgeous, laughing like nothing ever happened between us. And Boston would be doing everything he could to pursue her while I had to act like that shit wasn’t getting to me.
We headed to our rooms to shower, and just as I slid open the bathroom door, a knock sounded. Parker, sprawled on his bed, didn’t so much as flinch—completely ignoring it. Basically naked, with the exception of the towel wrapped around my waist, I yanked the hotel room door open. Outside, a train wreck of whistles and catcalls awaited me, led by my best friend himself, Bailey.
"What the hell do you want?" I barked, glaring at their grinning faces.
"Hurry your ass up and get down to the lobby," Bailey said, emphasizing every word with a finger jab to my chest. "We're grabbing some appetizers and drinks before we hit the bar."
I glanced back at Parker, still lounging on his bed, hat no longer hiding his face. He rolled his eyes and muttered something about how a guy can’t ever get some quick beauty rest in.
I sighed, shutting the door on the commotion. I turned to glare at my weekend tourney roommate. "Parker, in your case, I think we can drop the 'beauty' and just call it rest."
Parker shrugged, swinging his legs off the bed. "You’re right. These good looks are natural. No sleep needed." He tilted his head in my direction. "But, you might want to change out of your birthday suit because girls won’t even look my way if you’re dressed like that."
I shot him a wink and stalked back into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. When I stepped out, I was freshly dressed injeans and a casual black fitted tee. I shot Parker a sideways glance as I adjusted the pendant necklace around my neck then grabbed a hat off the desk to throw on. "Ready, Sleeping Beauty?"
