Page 35 of Faking Summer
Sam nodded. "Well, it sounds like you've found your passion," she said, understanding flickering across her face.
"Passion, yes," I murmured, "but will that passion impress my parents? Not in the slightest."
"Who cares?" Sam shot back, rolling her eyes. "It's your life, not theirs."
"If only it was that easy," I sighed, really wishing it was. My dreams came in second, right after doing everything I could to make my family proud of me. "What about you?" I asked, eager to escape my own thoughts. "How is everything going with bridezilla?"
"Well, she’s actually not the worst bride I’m dealing with right now, but don’t worry. I’ll be able to breathe a little more after wedding season.” She shrugged.
"Well any bride is so lucky to have you, Sam."
Sam and I drifted through the bar, toward the back where most of our friends usually lounged around. The back of the bar was quieter, darker, its brick walls covered in posters and records on display. There was a back wall of games and a music player that connected to an app on our phones we all often fought over.
"Is the lighting different in here, or do you just get prettier every time I see you?" Wells Clark stepped in front of me. It felt too rehearsed to be sincere, but his effort was noted.
“I'd prefer the second.”
His grin widened as he leaned in closer. "So when are you going to let me take you on that date?"
Sam snickered behind me. "Yeah, when are you doing that, Caroline?" Her gaze swung between me and Wells with mischief. "And while you decide, I'm going to use the ladies' room."
The echoes of Sam's laughter lingered as she walked away, and I fired a glare at her retreating back. The moment she disappeared to the restrooms, I turned back to Wells, feeling the sudden gravity of his expectation.
"I don't know," I began, stirring my drink. "I'm pretty busy these days." The idea of a real date with Wells Clark didn't soundtoobad. It had been over a year since I had hooked up with anyone—since I had allowed myself the vulnerability of any connection. And not only were my hormones doing cartwheels, but I’d been craving attention harder than my 2 p.m. Diet Coke fix.
Wells leaned in, his eyes dark. "Well, I can work around your schedule," he said with a half-smile. "We can get out of here right now if you want. Go back to my place."
Was I actually considering this right now? The moment of silence between Wells and me was quickly shattered by an unmistakable raspy voice. "Not happening tonight, quarterback," Reese drawled, smirking as he fixed Wells with a look that could make hell freeze over.
The shift in atmosphere was instantaneous. Wells let out a low chuckle, but it was dark. "If not tonight, then soon," he said confidently, throwing me a wink. "You let me know when."
He turned to Reese, his gaze turning from playful to pointed, like there was some sort of silent conversation passing between them. Wells stepped back, like he was surrendering in the moment but there was still unfinished business between them.
Reese stood in front of me, his towering frame boxing me in. "Really?" I scoffed, trying to ignore how the dim lighting cast shadows across his sculpted features, giving him an almost predatory look. "You don't need to act like my boyfriend tonight, none of my family is here."
"I wasn't acting."he said, casually running his fingers through his hair.
"Well then, why interrupt, Reese? Maybe I did want to go home with him. Maybe I haven't hooked up with anyone in over a year. I could have been considering it."
His eyebrow arched slowly as he leaned in, his breath a warm whisper against my cheek. "And you're considering that with WellsClark?" The name rolled off his tongue tainted with disdain,like just saying it left a bad taste in his mouth.
"Why not?"
His half-smirk twisted into something more evil as he inched even closer, forcing me to retreat step by step until my back collided with the cold brick wall beside the music machine. Reese loomed over me, a tower of temptation, and casually rested an arm above my head. "You don't need some boy who just gives you attention until he gets off."
“What do I need then?” I asked, knowing exactly what I was walking into.
The air between us grew thick, saturated with desire and the scent of his masculine cologne. He placed his other hand on my neck, his thumb resting on my racing pulse point. He leaned in, his grip gentle but commanding.
"You should only spread your legs for someone who can give you exactly what you want,” he growled.
“And you know what I want?”
He clenched his jaw and carefully drew out his next words. “I think what you really crave is a man who adores you… but fucks you like he doesn’t. And after you have it once… you feel like you might die without it.”
In that moment, Reese wasn't just the bad boy with a reputation that preceded him. He was the embodiment of every fantasy I'd ever had—the tall dark and handsome danger that was in all my dreams. My chest constricted like he had stolen the air from me as I forced out, “Too bad you and I… we can't go there."
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. Instead, Reese’s thumb kept moving—slow, gentle strokes against my skin. Feather-light, but intentional. Dangerous. My breath caught, the warmth of his touch unraveling every reason I had to resist.
