Chapter 19
nineteen
Caroline
"Damnit," Reese muttered, raking a hand through his dark hair as he shifted uncomfortably, trying to regain some semblance of composure.
That was humiliating. I covered my eyes, horrified, the heat from the intensity of the moment lingering on my skin. "I knew I shouldn't have done that," I muffled the words into my palms. "They already hate me, now they're really going to hate me."
Reese exhaled, a sound caught somewhere between frustration and reassurance. "It's fine," he said, his voice low and surprisingly steady. His glowing eyes locked onto mine as I dared to peek through my fingers. “Boston and Chandler are together now. Why would they care?”
His casual dismissal was meant to comfort me, but he didn’t sound as confident as he usually did. Even so, there was something in the way he held my gaze that told me no matter the fallout, we were in this together.
"I was with Boston last summer, who is your brother, and you were with Chandler.
None of this is fine," I whispered. With trembling hands, I smoothed down the fabric of my tank top before I twisted the door handle.
Recently, it seemed like there had been this subtle shift between Boston and Reese, like they were just starting to move in a good direction.
Did this just ruin the progress they were making?
And then there was the kiss that was still tingling my lips. The incendiary, mind-blowing kiss that had my entire body on fire. It was more than just a kiss; it was that moment of pure, unfiltered passion that I knew people spent a lifetime chasing.
As I treaded the dimly lit hallway, I could hear the whispers, see the judgment in their eyes.
Chandler and Boston were in the middle of it all, their heads close together, all eyes on me as I approached.
A knot had formed in my stomach as heat crept up my neck, spreading across my cheeks.
I felt exposed under the harsh, unforgiving light of scrutiny.
Chandler's lips moved in conversation, and I couldn’t hear her, but the message was clear—I was the topic of the hour, another joke to everyone here.
I was frozen to the spot, a deer caught in the headlights of their mocking amusement. Then Reese approached. The whispers ceased the moment his arm draped across my shoulders, possessive and protective all at once, like a silent declaration that dared anyone to try him.
"If anyone’s got something to say, now’s your chance," Reese growled, his voice dark and dangerous. He intimidated everyone just as effectively as he commanded my racing pulse. He scanned the crowd, daring anyone to step forward. No one moved; not a single pair of eyes met his.
At that moment, I realized how the room held its breath. The power Reese wielded was not just in his status, or being the star pitcher—it was in the certainty that he wouldn’t back down to anyone. I knew he was trying to defend me, but I still felt the scrutiny and the accusations.
The crowd slowly shifted back into normalcy. I caught Willow's voice, trying to lighten the mood.
"Am I the only one who hasn't hooked up in my own bathroom?" she said, opening her fridge and grabbing a can.
"Well, baby girl, you're in luck," Parker quipped. "I'm willing to be the man who steps up to take that bullet."
Willow gave Parker a playful shove. "How honorable," she tossed back at him. "You're practically a knight in shining armor."
Their lighthearted exchange loosened a tightness in my chest, which I hadn’t noticed until it eased. I turned to Reese, the press of his arm a reminder that I wasn't alone in this fishbowl. "I have to get out of here," I murmured, my voice barely a whisper.
I passed the threshold of the front door and kept walking. My house was a ten minute walk, perfect for clearing my head,
"Where are you going?" Reese yelled.
"Out of here," I tossed back, not slowing my pace. I needed space, air that wasn't thick with tension and the lingering confusion.
"You're walking?"
I glanced over my shoulder. "No. I'm taking the spaceship."
A chuckle escaped him. It was a dangerous thing, that laugh—a reminder of how easily Reese could make you melt. With his charm, his annoying good looks, and that laugh.
"Are you being funny right now?" Reese questioned. "Is there actually a sense of humor in there?"
I stopped dead in my tracks, turning on my heel, allowing him to see the frustration on my face. "Why are you following me, Reese?"
"I’m walking you home… or at least to your spaceship,” he said, matter-of-factly.
"Fine." I relented. "But the second you do that eye thing you do, you need to turn around and go back."
Reese chuckled again. "What eye thing?" he asked, feigning innocence.
"You know exactly what eye thing you do," I said. It was more than his gaze—it was the intensity behind it, a fire that seemed to burn behind them. "The one that tells me all the dirty thoughts you're having."
"Okay, no eye thing," he agreed. "But are you okay?" he asked, his tone more serious now.
I swallowed the knot of emotions lodged in my throat and managed to murmur, "I don't know."
There was truth in those three words—a confession of confusion, an admission that despite how others saw me, I did have feelings deep down. "I know I seem like I don't care what any of them think, but I do."
Reese's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze probing. "Why? You don't even like them."
"That's not true," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "I just don't let a lot of people get close to me. I prefer it that way."
That was something I rarely acknowledged, let alone shared. I was Caroline Matthews—untouchable, unbreakable—yet here I stood, moments away from shattering the illusion I’d worked so hard to portray.
"Yeah, I noticed," he drawled. "Why is that?"
"It's just easier," I murmured. "People can disappoint you when you let them get too close or expect too much."
There was a pause, a moment stretched thin as if the world itself were waiting for his response. Then, in a voice that rumbled through the stillness like distant thunder, he said, "People can disappoint you no matter what."
I wasn’t just thinking about the people here in Bayside. No, it was him too—Reese Carrington. If I allowed him to get too close, if I allowed his magnetism to draw me in... he had the power to devastate me, utterly and completely. Like he had in the past.
"Keeping them at a distance means it doesn't hurt as bad," I said aloud.
Reese didn't reply immediately, but when he did, there was something new in the calmness of his voice. "Maybe so," he finally said. "And maybe some people are worth taking that risk for.”
"I don’t know, but I do know we can't let what happened tonight happen again," I found myself saying, knowing I was shifting the topic.
"Come on, Caroline," Reese said, putting his hands in his pockets. "I know you liked it. You were the one who kissed me in there."
I was desperately trying to push that fact into the shadows.
The sensation of his lips against mine lingered, a permanent imprint that refused to fade with the darkness around us.
I touched my lips involuntarily, the memory igniting a warmth that spread through my chest and settled deep in my belly.
"Can you not be cocky right now? I'm in a very sensitive state." My attempt to deflect was sad, and I knew it. Reese had this infuriating way of stripping down my defenses, leaving me feeling exposed.
Reese's smirk lingered in the half-light. "Sorry," he said with a tilt of his head, miming the action of shoving something into his pocket. "I'll tuck that away for now."
I rolled my eyes at him, well aware of how cheesy that was. Even if I did like it—and god, every cell in my body screamed that I did—it was wrong on a myriad of levels. "Even if I liked it, and if I did, it's probably because it’s been way too long since I have hooked up with anyone.”
"Use me then, Chaos," he said, a rough whisper that sent shivers down my spine.
Use him? I swallowed hard, unable to think or respond. And despite myself, despite every rational thought that screamed caution!, I couldn't shake the image of his hands—those strong, assured hands that were all over me—the way he clenched his jaw and looked down at me.
"Think about it—it’s perfect. Your family thinks we’re together, the whole party probably does now, too." He let the moment stretch. "So why not make the most of it? Use me to take that ache away. I know you want to."
"Use you?"
Reese stood there, effortlessly commanding the space around us. "I’m happily volunteering," he said, his voice low and smooth. He leaned in, just enough for me to smell that delicious scent of his. "Until the wedding, I’m all yours—boyfriend, fuck buddy, whatever you want me to be.”
My steps faltered on the quiet street. Each word unfurled within me, painting images that should have been blurred by doubt but instead made my knees weak.
For some reason—no, for every reason—what he offered sounded incredible.
My mind reeled at the thought of taking what he presented so freely.
I wanted him more than I wanted to admit.
"Fuck buddy," I whispered to myself, letting the idea wash over me in waves.
"Just sleep on it, let me know," Reese said, his tone casual like he was offering me snacks.
I turned on my heel, the gravel beneath my feet crunching like static as we approached my home—a sanctuary that felt too small to contain the breadth of my thoughts. "How are you getting home?"
Reese gestured behind us, and I glanced back to find a sleek black SUV idling at the curb. It was the same SUV that usually drove his dad around town, and sometimes picked and dropped Reese off.
"You had your driver following us this whole time? We didn’t have to walk?"
A smirk tugged at his lips, easing the sharp edge of his jaw.
"What fun would that be?"
I let out a huff as I marched toward my house. The staccato beat of my heels on the concrete punctuated the silence.
"Hey, you going to Taillight Tapout tomorrow?" Reese yelled after me.
"Only if you aren't," I yelled back, not bothering to look at him.
"See you there," he called out, the amusement clear in his tone. I didn't need to look to know he was smiling that half-cocked grin that threatened to unravel me.