Page 76 of Faking Summer
She tilted her head, those big, beautiful eyes reflecting back my own uncertainty. And then Goldilocks let out a sound—a low, thoughtful mewl. It was as if she understood, as if she agreed.
"You’re not supposed to agree with him." I chuckled and stroked her back, smoothing down the fine hairs. "I think I was really liking him, maybe even falling for him, which is absolutely wild."
Goldilocks shifted, giving me a knowing look.
"Don’t give me that look. I can't have him—blondes aren’t his type. And men like him don’t end up with women like me," I added, and yes, there I was, spilling my heart out to a horse—having a full conversation.
A deep, gravelly voice cut through the doubt. "Then he's an idiot… because if he had any sense, he'd know how incredible you are."
The phrase struck me like a lightning bolt, sending a jolt through my entire body. I froze, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end as the atmosphere thickened with a suffocating intensity.
There, Reese stood in some suit that made the groom's tux look like it was some worn hand-me-down, its dark fabric hugging his athletic body in a way that made my mouth water. My breath hitched, eyes wide as they drank in the sight of him—the way you knew his wealth and masculinity just from the way he carried himself.
"Reese?" It was the only word that came to mind before I forced out, "Why are you here?"
"I know you can do this on your own," he said, approaching slowly. "You don't need me to get through this, but I want to be there for you anyway."
My fingers twitched at my sides with the urge to close the distance between us, to feel the safety of his arms. I imagined his hard chest pressed against me, his warm breath on my neck, his heartbeat steady and reassuring.
But I had to pull myself back. Spending tonight with him, allowing myself to fall back into the habit of pretending we were together, would only leave a deeper wound when he inevitably left me behind. No matter how fiercely I wanted him or how much him standing here right now made my heart do embarrassing, Olympic-level gymnastics, he still had the draft coming up. He’d be leaving. The last thing I needed was to be the distraction that messed with his future, or pretend a long distance relationship would work. Nope. I’d just swallow my feelings like a responsible, emotionally stableadult… or, at the very least, try really hard to keep myself together long enough to do what’s right.
"I… I need you to stop saving me. Stop trying to be the hero," I forced out, my voice heavy with emotions I didn’t want to unleash.
The moonlight filtered through the cracks in the wooden walls and played across his face, highlighting the chiseled lines of his jaw. He had his hands buried in the pockets of his pants in a casual pose that didn’t match the intensity burning in his green eyes.
"Last thing I am is a hero," he said, with a small chuckle. "But I know you well enough to know when you're pushing me away when you want the exact opposite."
I averted my gaze from him, seeking refuge in the familiarity of Goldilocks and her now judgy eyes. "Reese, our deal is over. This is done."
There was no immediate response, just the sound of Goldilocks shifting restlessly on her hooves. Then, a soft huff—a frustrated exhalation from her—as if she didn’t even believe what I had just said. Goldilocks turned on her heel, her tail flicking in quiet reprimand before she sauntered out of the barn.
"We're not done, Caroline," Reese said, smooth and dangerous. "We haven't even started yet."
"Don't say that." I turned to him, my voice barely a whisper. "We are not doing this." I pressed my hands against his chest, trying to push him away—but he didn’t budge.
“Like fuck we aren’t,” Reese said, before he kicked the stand propping open the barn door. The heavy wood slammed shut, sealing us inside the barn.
"What's the point?" My words were half-lost in the moment, my defiance struggling to find its footing. "We both know what we signed up for. We both knew this had to come to an end."
"You are a fucking headache. But you… you also push me, challenge me to be a better man, and I need someone who does that. I need you. And you need someone to pull you out of those flames you always seem to be in. You need someone to be your safe place. You need me too."
"You think you see something in me that needs saving, that I'm some helpless damsel trapped in a fire. But maybe these flames are where I belong. I can't be the person you want me to be, and I don’t need a safe place."
"You're lying," his voice was low and husky. "Everyone needs a safe place.”
"Just let this go, Reese. It’s over. You can release me now," I said, the words crushing my own heart along with it.
But he wasn’t letting this go. Each slow, deliberate step he took closed the space between us. Heat rolled off him in waves. My back hit the rough wood of the barn, the faint flicker of shadows passing by outside barely registering.
"We’re not over," he said. His dangerous and raw tone unraveled me in a way I wasn’t ready for. He leaned in, smug and unhurried. “If I pulled your dress up right now, what would I find, Caroline?”
“You’d find nothing but some very dry, pink lace panties.”
I did everything I possibly could—kept my face blank, my breathing even, my whole body in check. Anything to make sure he didn’t see right through me. Because if he did? Game over.
“That’s funny, because I know for damn sure your pussy isn’t done with me. I bet it needs me so goddamn bad that it’s soaking wet right now, begging for me."
My heart hammered wildly, now betraying my composure. I fought the unrelenting ache between my legs as I clenched them together, smelling his cologne. Being inches away from him but not touching him was killing me—it took everything in me to resist.
