Chapter 7
seven
Caroline
The green light flickered when I swiped my keycard, and I nudged the door open with my shoulder. Sam and Crew stumbled past me, Crew's arm slung possessively around her waist. It was night and day compared to the obvious distance between Reese and me.
"Damn, how did you guys get a suite?" Crew asked, his eyes going wide as he checked out the room, like it was the first time he’d seen one.
"I mean, I'm committee president," I said with a slight shrug. "Of course I was going to get myself a suite."
"You even got a balcony." With a flick of his wrist, he pointed toward the sliding glass door.
Meanwhile, Reese looked unimpressed by the room and its amenities.
Typical. He was probably the richest person in Bayside, of course no amount of luxury could faze him.
His fingers, decorated with a few large rings, curled possessively around the neck of his whiskey bottle.
Then he brought it to his lips, taking a pull.
Crew looked down through the floor-to-ceiling windows. "This view is insane," he said in awe before he moved around checking out the rest of the suite. He wandered into the large bathroom, and yelled, "Is that a jacuzzi? We gotta do that!"
Sam chuckled from beside me. "Luckily, Caroline and I have our swimsuits," she said playfully, before she glanced at Reese and Crew. "But what are you two going to wear?"
"You know," Crew drawled, his voice carrying a hint of mischief, "skinny dipping is usually a second date kind of thing for me." He winked at Sam. "But I'm willing to compromise for you."
Reese threw an arm around Crew's shoulders. "I don't think either of them want to see that, buddy." His gaze flicked our way briefly, like he was helping us out. "So we'll keep on the boxers."
"Yes, let's do that," Sam said, pulling out a can of sparkling seltzer from the mini fridge. She handed me one before she grabbed one for herself. The seltzers hissed as we popped them open, a momentary distraction.
Crew and Reese slid open the glass door and walked out onto the balcony, leaving Sam and I alone in the room to change.
"Can you believe Crew? He's acting like he’s into me tonight." Sam smoothed down the sides of her swimsuit, settling on her hips. "But I don't want to go all the way with him. Not when he's hooked up with everyone and might go party with those twins later."
I paused, shimmying into the straps of my bikini, the stretchy fabric clinging to every curve. "Then don’t," I whispered, my eyes meeting hers in the mirror. "Just do what you’re comfortable with."
"I always do," she replied with a faint smile.
"Just enjoy the moment, Sammy," I added. "Flirt, get to know him better, kiss if it feels right in the moment. But remember, he's lucky to even have your attention, not the other way around."
She caught my gaze in the mirror, a flicker of resolve igniting in her eyes. "I know," she said, and then her voice dropped, wearily. "And hey, I'm sorry about Reese being here. I just... I couldn't find the words to tell Crew no."
I turned away from our reflection, my gaze dropping to the knot on my swimsuit bottoms secured with a quick twist. "It's fine," I assured her, the lie slipping from my lips. "I'm a big girl. I can handle one evening playing nice."
For Sam, I could handle one night of not murdering him for what he did to me in sixth grade. I could do my best to keep the anger to myself, to not let him get to me.
She handed me one of the hotel robes with a small smile. "Seriously, you're the best for doing this."
"Anything for you," I said, honestly. I really would do anything for her, and I knew she’d do the same for me.
"I owe you," Sam replied, as she bent down to turn on the jacuzzi.
Together, we stepped through the sliding glass doors onto the balcony where Reese and Crew were mid-laugh, both carefree—completely opposite of the turmoil churning beneath my calm facade. But the moment their eyes landed on us, the laughter died.
“Jaccuzi is ready to go,” Sam said, sliding in next to Crew.
"Red bikini… nice choice," Crew murmured, his grin almost on the verge of creepy.
I turned away from everyone, ignoring Reese's smoldering presence. Instead, I took a breath and leaned over the balcony, gazing down into the below.
"Alright, let's get this party started then," Reese said as he began to strip off his shirt and pants on his way inside. Soon he was standing there in nothing but his low-slung, brand-name boxers. Crew scooped Sam into his arms. She laughed and held on tight, as they followed behind Reese.
I trailed behind them, my gaze inexplicably drawn to Reese's retreating form.
His back was a canvas of defined, tanned muscles shifting and flexing with each step—obvious proof of how hard he worked on and off the pitcher's mound.
When he turned, the sight of his sculpted torso sent an unbidden surge of heat through me.
His six-pack was infuriatingly perfect, and I caught myself staring, transfixed by the hard lines that seemed to lead—sinfully—down to his waistband.
Oh, no not the fanny flutters. What was wrong with me?
I silently scolded myself until they disappeared.
Reese was trouble—every woman in Bayside knew that.
I had personally experienced my own trauma from this jerk.
And worse, he knew what he was doing when he set me up to be the punchline of a cruel joke.
My first dance should have been magical, but I was humiliated.
The laughter still echoed in my mind, a tormenting sound that played on repeat.
It was more than just a prank or a momentary lapse of judgment on his part.
He had stolen something from me that night, took away some of my innocence and trust. He wasn’t the only reason I kept most people at arm’s length, but he was part of the reason I was colder.
And here I was, struggling to remember why I should look away.
Reese slid into the steaming bath effortlessly, setting the whiskey bottle on the narrow shelf just behind him.
He leaned back, arms draped casually over the edge.
Sam and Crew were still focused on each other as she slipped off her robe.
Their contagious laughter filled the small space as they sank into the bubbling water.
They seemed lost in their own little universe, nestled together in the corner.
I slid the hotel robe off, hanging it on the wall hook.
Reese's gaze lingered on me, heavy and intense, like a palpable thing that seemed to draw all heat in the room toward me. There was a quiet sort of shock there, like he hadn’t expected me to actually pull off a swimsuit.
He grabbed the whisky bottle slowly, eyes still on me.
He swallowed hard after taking a sip, the gulping sound obvious in the suffocating stillness.
His Adam's apple bobbed, annoying me even more. Why did I think that was so hot?
"Wow," he breathed in a husky whisper, almost like he was holding something back.
With deliberate nonchalance, I descended into the jacuzzi, his gaze still assaulting me. "What?" I asked, melting into the water. "You act like this is the first time you've seen a woman in a bikini."
His lips parted in a slow grin, his tongue teasingly sweeping across them. "Not the first time," he drawled. "Just the first time seeing you in one."
A fluttering broke free in my chest, I couldn’t stop it. Don't let those green eyes fool you, don't fall for the charm or the dimples. This was Bayside's most notorious bad boy, and I knew it.
My skin prickled, and not just from the bubbling jets. "Well, it's just a bikini," I said, aiming for casualness, though my voice weakened just a little under his stare.
"Maybe on the hanger," he drawled, his lips curving into a devilish grin. "On you? It's something else entirely."
"We’re just keeping the peace tonight," I snapped, watching his eyes dip below the water. "You don’t have to overdo it."
"Chaos," he murmured, his voice a sinful rumble, "when I agree to something, I go all in.”
I turned my attention back to Sam and Crew, catching the tail end of what seemed to be a heated debate.
“She was in a happy relationship,” Sam insisted, sliding back against one of the jets.
“But she had no girl code, so why would the girls keep her safe?” Crew questioned, arguing back.
“Because she was in love and that should matter most.” Sam flicked water at Crew, and he grabbed her hand to stop her.
“The trick to winning Love Mountain is the friendships… you just hope to find love in the process,” Reese said, surprising everyone. He didn’t seem like the type to sit and watch a reality show.
Before I could comment, the disturbing sound of intense kissing took over. Out of nowhere, Crew and Sam were lip-locked in a kiss, suddenly making me feel like an intruder.
Reese must have felt it, too, because he glanced at them before turning back to me. "Balcony?" he asked, creating an escape plan from this awkwardness.
I nodded, wordless, and followed him out. Slipping the robe over my damp skin, I felt it cling to every curve, a soft cover that did little to shield me from Reese's unrelenting gaze. He casually draped Sam's robe over his shoulders to cover himself up.
The night air brushed against my skin as we stepped out onto the balcony, the door shutting behind us with a click.
Underneath the dark sky, the town stretched out before us.
Reese stood close—too close. But, his presence wasn’t as unsettling as it usually was.
For a fleeting second, I allowed myself to relish the tranquility of the elevated view, the soft breeze that played with strands of my hair, trying my best to forget about the man I was stuck here with.
I leaned against the cool metal railing of the balcony, people watching.
Reese—the definition of walking trouble—was momentarily lost in the view below, too.