Chapter 11 #2
I clung to the memory of Cooper's kindness, using it like armor against her onslaught.
I stood there, rooted to the grimy floor as each insult embedded itself deeper.
The urge to flee was overwhelming, a primal scream building within the confines of my chest, yet I remained motionless, a statue built by years of enduring this torment.
"...And can we just talk about how we don’t even need to think about her having a plus one to the wedding?" Charlotte continued. "She'll be the only one in my family again without a date, but no surprise there."
“Who can she date? No man in Bayside can stand her. She’s like boyfriend repellent or something.
” Stella laughed, and my vision blurred as tears threatened to take over.
All I wanted was to run away, but that would mean victory for Charlotte, and I refused to give her the satisfaction.
My fingers twitched at my sides, desperate to grasp onto something, anything, that could keep me strong, keep me standing.
“I don’t even know how she can stand herself,” Charlotte snarled, holding up an empty glass and shaking it rudely at the bartender.
I couldn't hold back the tears any longer.
The overwhelming humiliation was suffocating, and all I could think about was how to make my escape, how to bolt from this stupid bachelorette party before my last shred of dignity snapped.
The last thing I could do was let them see me cry.
Just as I silently begged for an out, for someone—anyone—to pull the damn fire alarm, salvation arrived.
In the form of someone I never expected.
"There you are, baby. You look beautiful."
Time stalled. The room blurred. A long arm slid around me like the man it belonged to had done it a thousand times before.
His presence was solid, confident, an unexpected lifeline.
His large hand gripped my waist firmly, grounding me at the exact moment I needed it most. Then, he turned to Charlotte, calm and composed, like this was just another effortless move in his playbook as he extended a hand.
"I don't think we've formally met. I'm Reese. "
My sister's jaw hit the floor, her tipsy haze vanishing in an instant as she gawked at the man next to me. Reese, with his effortless charm and those swoon-worthy green eyes, was practically a celebrity in our small town—he definitely wasn’t intimidated by my sister.
She knew exactly who he was—the whole town did.
She stuttered out a response, her voice trembling. "I-I know who you are... everyone knows who you are." She looked from him to me, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "What’s happening right now?"
"We're together," he announced casually. "She didn't tell you I was her date to your wedding?"
Charlotte's glare, icy and accusing, shifted to me. "No," she spat out, the single syllable laced with venomous disbelief. "It must have slipped her mind because she never once mentioned that.”
Reese’s hand was still steady on my hip, and it was somehow calming me. "Well now you know," I added, watching her process the information. "Didn’t want to steal any of the excitement away from celebrating you."
The lie rolled off my tongue smoother than I'd expected.
My heart hammered, not from deception, but from the realization that Reese had just stepped in to save me.
But why? He must have overheard my sister's harsh words, and out of pity, he stepped in.
Whatever the reason, I accepted without hesitation.
"So you've been dating... him? Really?" The words tumbled out of her mouth. Her gaze flicked between Reese and me again, like she couldn’t solve this equation, like it couldn’t possibly add up.
It hurt more than I cared to admit, the insinuation that it was hard to believe Reese would ever date someone like me.
But it never surprised me how low she thought of me.
“Lucky me, right? She’s way out of my league," he confirmed, taking me by surprise again.
Reese set down his empty glass on the bar top.
Then flashed that panty dropping dimple of his as he turned toward me, rolling up his sleeve.
The movement drew attention to his tattoos that slid down his arm, coming to a stop around the luxe watch on his wrist, giving off a hint of rebellion but also class at the same time.
I strangely found myself staring a bit too long.
Oh, no—not these uncalled for and rebellious fanny flutters again. I scolded myself internally. Why did that simple gesture make me react that way? Don’t go there, Caroline. Don’t even think about it. Before I could gather my thoughts, he took my hand, pulling me away.
“Well, if you’ll excuse us,” he said, turning his back to Charlotte, “I’m stealing her for a dance.”
My sister’s eyes widened, a flicker of something I had never seen before crossing her face—was it jealousy? I didn’t think that was possible. For the first time in our lives, was she envious of me?
The dance floor was packed around us, full of couples swaying to the slow beat.
As we moved, those around us blurred. I caught the scent of his cologne—a mix of cedarwood and something dangerously intoxicating.
Each step drew us closer together, his grip on my hand firm but also gentle.
Reese pulled me into him, and suddenly, there were no more worries, no more stress—just this calm and dangerously captivating feeling he left me with.
His chest pressed against mine as I could feel every line of muscle beneath his shirt, his body hard and warm.
"Come here," he demanded, placing my hand up around the nape of his neck. I’d never been this attracted to anyone before—it was intense, unsettling.
"Why did you do that?" I whispered, my voice barely steady—caught somewhere between confusion and curiosity. His unsolicited rescue couldn’t have been better timed. But why?
Reese's hand slid lower down my back, sending shivers up my spine that had nothing to do with the large ceiling fans above us. "Figured you needed the save," he said, simply. "And selfishly figured if I help you, you’d help me."
"Should have known there was a motive. Help you how?"
In that moment, as his eyes held mine captive in a way that felt like falling off a cliff, I knew I was in dangerous territory.
Still, here I was, drawn to him, finally giving him all my attention—an inch away from doing anything he wanted.
My senses were heightened, aware of every point of contact, every brush of his breath against my cheek.
"I'll be your date to that wedding," he growled into my ear. "Be your fake boyfriend until the big day is over." I felt the brush of his calloused thumb against the small of my back. "In exchange," he continued, "you help my sister."
The idea of pretending to be with Reese Carrington, of all people, was absurd. And still part of me was intrigued by the thought of defying expectations and watching the world react.
As we continued to move to the music together in a way that almost felt too natural, a reckless part of me wanted to say yes, to dive headfirst into the unknown for a chance at pulling the idea of this off.
"You want to fake date me," I thought out loud, "and in return, all I have to do is get your sister on the cheer team?"
“That simple,” he said, but it wasn’t simple at all. My mind spun with the implications, the power plays hidden beneath the surface of his casual assurance. Could I really do something like this, and do it with him?
I could easily get lost in those green eyes if I wasn't careful. I could tell he was trying to read every one of my thoughts. I could see the darkness lurking in his eyes, a challenge he didn't need to voice. There was only one thing I could do, make a safe decision—I couldn’t trust him.
"We can't do this," I whispered. "No one would buy it—not for a second. My mom..." I cut off the sentence. My mom knew who he was, how powerful he was, that his family is in a tax bracket we’d never even dream about. She would never believe that he’d date me.
His hand shifted, not leaving its place but pulling me in a little closer, holding me in this dance of deception. "Think about it and get back to me."
“I’m telling you we could never get away with it.” I said, not quite understanding how he could be so casual about this.
His eyes were focused on something past my shoulder. "From the looks of it, she already believes it," he smirked, turning me enough to see my sister's jaw still on the floor, still frozen in place where we left her.
"Honestly? I’d pay someone good money right now for a picture of her face—framed and mounted, right on my bedroom wall." I snickered, turning away to hide my grin.
When I looked back up at him, his expression had turned serious. "If you were really mine, I’d never let anyone speak to you that way," he said, matter-of-factly. "And you shouldn't either."
My heart skipped a beat, not from the proximity of him but from the unexpected protectiveness in his words.
“I only allow family to speak to me that way, it’s just the way we are.”
"Even with family," he replied, like what I’d said was useless information, "you need to draw your boundaries. And I can tell you this… when I'm around, no one will talk to you that way. I don't care if that is your sister."
I should have recoiled at his words, at the brazen implication that he could, or would, step into my life with such audacity.
He didn’t know me, and he didn’t know my family.
But somehow what he said was oddly charming.
I wasn't used to anyone standing up for me—especially not when it came to my sister or mother.
In fact, the only person who ever had was Cooper.
"So," he continued, "you might want to take that into consideration before you make your decision."
I laid my head on his shoulder as we finished the dance. Giving my sister one last show. I loathed myself for loving the way I felt in his arms, for the warmth that spread through my veins, the electricity that danced along my skin where he held me close.
I was actually considering his offer—his ridiculous idea.
Not for the allure of being Reese Carrington's girlfriend, but for the leverage it granted.
Just the thought of shocking my family and causing the same reaction in them that Reese had on my sister was almost too tempting to resist. But the real question was, could I actually do this?
Could I bury the grudge I had against him until my sister's wedding?
At the end of the day, it would just be a business arrangement, nothing more.