Page 85 of Faking Summer
thirty-five
Caroline
Reese and I had been inseparable since the moment he came back into town, stealing every second we could before time ran out. Yesterday, we’d spent the entire day on his boat, the sun warming our skin, the gentle waves rocking us blissfully while I was in his arms. He was starting to feel like home, my safe place—and he was right about how much I needed it. And now, just when we’d finally found our rhythm, when everything felt right and effortless with nothing standing in the way, he was leaving. Today.
I reached out, hesitating for just a moment before pressing the doorbell—it was a sleek, modern black circle with a camera. With a small smile, I pressed the button and lifted my shirt just over the camera lens, hoping to be spontaneous and surprise him.
But the giggle died in my throat when the door creaked open sooner than expected. Reese appeared, and a flush crept up my neck as I quickly shoved my shirt back down.
A silent moment hung between us before he grinned and said, “Uh… did you just flash the camera?”
I forced a slow blink, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear like I wasn’t internally combusting at the fact that he’d just caught me. "Maybe," I drawled, aiming for cool and landing somewhere near delusional.
His brow lifted, those sharp green eyes flickering with pure mischief."You do know that footage goes straight to my dad’s phone, right?"
My stomach hit the floor as cold terror rushed through me like I’d been thrown in ice water. He bit his lip, barely holding back a laugh as I choked on air.
"Shut up," I sputtered, voice cracking. "Please tell me you’re kidding."
His smirk deepened. He wasdefinitelynot kidding. Reese just leaned against the door frame, amused. "Don't worry about it," he laughed, "Can guarantee you that wasn’t the first pair he’s seen."
My cheeks still burned as I crossed my arms. "I can never show my face around him again."
"You’re going to have to… he's here in his office," Reese snickered.
"I have to go," I whispered, covering my eyes in embarrassment.
"Get in here," Reese's hands grabbed mine from my face and pulled me inside, the door closing behind me.
He led me down the familiar hallway, moving toward his bedroom. He pushed open the door to his room, where suitcases were open and filled. Shirts, jeans, everything—folded and packed in tight.
"I hate admitting this," I found myself saying, "but we’ve only been apart a few hours and I missed you. How am I going to do this whole long distance thing?"
He straightened, and flashed me a dimple. "Sit on the bed," he said, simply. "Spread your legs, and I can show you how much I've missed you too."
"Very funny," I rolled my eyes, "with my luck, your dad will walk in here and get another show." The thought of his father witnessing anything more than he already had made me want to live the rest of my days under a rock.
A laugh rumbled out of Reese as his arms wrapped around mywaist, pulling me in close, and the scent of him—warm and spicy—filled my senses. It was like coming home to a warm, clean house, if that house was a person.
"Are you sure you don't want to come with me?" His lips brushed against mine in a kiss so tender it was in direct contradiction to his reckless spirit.
I clung to him, my arms entwined around his solid form. "I can’t. But I'll be there to visit in a few weeks," I whispered, feeling the steady thump of his heart.
"I have my own place, you know. It has a nice view of downtown, there’s some vacant dance studio space around me. I'm just saying... you could stay with me, start up your own career."
His words painted images of a life that would be a dream. A new city full of opportunities, a life with him and endless possibilities. But it wasn’t the real world, and I couldn't allow myself to be swept away by how good it sounded.
"I appreciate that—I do." My fingers trailed over his shirt. "But it's not that easy. I don't have the money to just pick up and go, to start a business. And I can't follow you around like a lost puppy."
“You’re not a lost puppy. I got a pretty nice signing bonus. Maybe I could invest in you." His gaze didn't waver, but there was a softness on his face. "And there's nothing tying you down here. You could start a career anywhere."
I felt the pull of his persuasion, saw the determination in his jawline, his puppy dog eyes—he was pulling out all the stops. But this was not how I envisioned the beginning of my journey after college—dependent on someone else's fortune.
"I can't start my career with your signing bonus, but we'll figure this out, okay? I'll be there in a few weeks, and we take it day by day, remember?"
“Yeah, guess I'll go along with this plan," he said, with a deep sigh. "But doesn't mean I have to like it."
"I don't like it either," I said just before a knock on the door fractured our stillness.
