Chapter 25
twenty-five
Caroline
I traced the rim of the shot glass Sam handed me. "I can’t take this anymore," I said, glancing at the back door, anxiety knotting my stomach. "It's been way too long now. What are they doing back there?"
Sam snickered and shook her head. "Wells is definitely getting his ass kicked," she said with certainty. “I would not want to be him right now.”
We looked at each other, then we reached for our shots in unison. Together, we tilted our heads back, the burn carving a path down our throats as we continued to wait for that back door to open.
"Should I just go out there?" I questioned, knowing I couldn’t stay seated much longer.
“They're walking in now," she said, her voice barely above a breath. "There's one, two, three..." She paused, her count trailing off into uncertainty, her eyes narrowing. “And no Wells.”
“Let’s go,” I said, rising out of my seat.
We pushed past elbows and shoulders to get to the back of the bar. Except once I got there, it was only Crew and Bailey.
"Where's Reese?" I asked Bailey, looking around.
"Bathroom," Bailey shot back, his gaze skimming past me with disinterest.
Unease took over as I turned away to find him. The laughter faded behind me until I stopped at the men's bathroom door, hesitating for a moment before my impatience made the decision for me.
The door swung open, revealing Reese hovering over the sink, hands braced on both sides. His shoulders were hard set. A deep purple bruise was already blooming on his cheek.
"What are you doing in here?" he asked, not turning back but glancing at me in the mirror. The silence stretched between us until I stepped further into his space, the door clicking shut behind me.
I leaned against the dark wall, my gaze never leaving him. "What happened outside?" I asked, already knowing the answer, but it was the only question I could think of.
He watched himself in the mirror as shadows played across the contours of his face, making him look even more intense. "It's taken care of," he snapped.
His shoulders rose and fell with each measured breath. The room seemed to contract around us, the walls closing in, the air heavy.
"Reese," I started, my voice barely above a whisper, "you're shaking."
His hands gripped the sink tighter, knuckles whitening. "I'm good," he said, his voice rough like gravel. "I just need a second."
"Are you hurt?" I asked quietly as I stepped behind him.
He lifted his head slightly, his eyes locking onto mine in the mirror. I glimpsed a storm in them, rage contained but nowhere near completely settled. His jaw worked silently, muscles clenching and unclenching as if trying to calm his thoughts.
"No," he finally said, though it was more a dismissal of my concern than any real assurance. "He tried to fucking touch you… and do whatever else he wanted because of me. What happened to you was my fault."
Without thinking, I reached for him, my hand finding his. "Look at me," I urged as he turned toward me. “I'm fine. And you’re not the reason Wells is a dick."
As I drew his hand up, guiding his palm to rest against the curve of my cheek, the roughness of his hand melted into the softness there.
"I should've been there," he said, voice low. "I should've protected you."
"I stopped him, but you… you stood up for me." I said, my heart sort of exploding. I wasn’t used to anyone having my back, but for some reason, he kept doing it—over and over. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. But this time, it hit me harder than any time before.
"I’ll always stand up for you," he said, stepping closer. "But knowing he tried to... do that to you? I could’ve killed him for thinking he had the right to touch what’s mine."
"But I’m not actually yours," I stuttered, the words tumbling out with confusion. For a second, I forgot about what this was, because the feeling of being his almost felt real. A part of me wanted to believe it could be—wanted to believe happiness for me was possible. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t.
"He doesn't know that," he shrugged. "But I promise you, Caroline, nothing like that will ever happen again. I feel sorry for anyone else who tries to fucking test me."
I could see the turmoil on his face, his vulnerability. It was so much different than the image of him that others saw: the confident pitcher, the untouchable bad boy. There was intimacy in his admission, like a secret, one that I wanted to keep close to my chest.
"What you did out there for me... I’m so grateful, but honestly, I don’t deserve it.
" My voice wavered, betraying the emotions I was barely keeping in check. "Reese, you’re going to do big things. You have so much ahead of you. You shouldn’t be fighting anyone—not for me. No one’s worth risking your future."
“Rule number one of being a fake boyfriend is always defending his girlfriend," he said, barely holding back a smirk.
"I didn’t know there were rules," I replied, the corners of my mouth twitching. "I like that one… but maybe just use your words next time."
“No promises,” he said. Then, the blood on Reese's knuckle drew my focus.
My own fingers trembled as they traced around the injury in the center. "Your hand," I whispered.
Reese glanced down at his hand between mine. "It's barely a cut."
Turning on the faucet, I coaxed his hand under the cold stream.
The water cascaded over his knuckles, washing off some of the blood.
Beneath my fingertips, I could feel the thrumming of his pulse starting to slow, the silent aftershocks of adrenaline that had been pumping through him beginning to steady.
"Really," Reese said, over the sound of running water, "it's not a big deal."
Reese's shoulders finally started to relax. The comforting smell of his cologne was wrapping around me as I sought his eyes through the reflection in the mirror. "Will you take me home?"
He turned, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear before draping an arm around my shoulders—his touch giving me the energy to breathe again. "Yeah, let's get outta here," he nodded.
“Call me later,” I shouted to Sam as we passed by her, who was in Crew’s arms.
She nodded before Reese and I made our way outside. The night air swirled around us as we stepped out into the dimly lit parking lot, leaving the distant laughter fading behind us.
"Did you beat him up badly?" I asked, breaking the silence. I hated the idea of them fighting over something that had to do with me, but still, I couldn’t help but be curious about it. I was only human.
Reese paused next to the passenger side of his truck, his hand finding the door handle before he turned to face me. "Stop worrying about it. He'll be fine in a few days."
I watched as his long arm extended toward me, his calloused fingers gently guiding me inside his truck. Reese closed the door with a soft thud, and then strode around to the driver’s side.
As he slid inside, I fastened my seatbelt. "Are you okay to drive?" I asked softly.
Reese shot me a sidelong glance, his green eyes glinting in the dim light of the dash. “Yeah,” he said with a half-smile. “You pulled me outta there before I even had a drink.”
"Couldn't let you walk around there all hurt and wounded," I teased.
"Wounded?" He chuckled, turning the key and plunging us into the night. "I’ve had much worse from baseball… and you should see the other guy."
I could only imagine the damage he could do, the secrets he kept tucked away.
I turned my head to look at him. His confident lines were softened by the darkness.
As Reese's truck turned onto my street, the familiar surroundings welcomed me.
I had driven down this street countless times, but doing it with him felt different, as if even the ordinary roads in this average subdivision knew Reese belonged to another world.
As the engine died, the silence grew heavy. The only light coming from my house was the soft glow from the porch.
"Are your parents home?"
"No," I murmured, opening my door. "My sister had a dress fitting a few hours away, which apparently is so important that my mom and dad went with her."
He nodded once, a barely noticeable dip of his head before he opened his door and slid out. We walked quietly before I turned the key in the lock and pushed open my front door. Reese followed me inside and shut the door behind us.
"Wait here," I said, pressing my palm against his hard chest. "I'll be right back."
I slipped down the dark hallway that led to the main bathroom. Rifling through the medicine cabinet and closet, I gathered some items.
I returned, finding Reese's shadow leaning against the entryway wall, staring at family photos.
"Come with me," I said, entwining our fingers as I led him up the stairs and inside my room. The door clicked shut behind us.
"Let's see that hand," I whispered. My fingers brushed his, tentative at first, then firm as I cradled his injured knuckle in my palm.
"I told you I'm fine,” he said, watching me tend to the wound.
"Fine or not, I’m taking care of you."
Reese shifted, the floor creaking under his weight as I finished up. "I don't need anyone to take care of me," he said, looking around my room. "Been doing well on my own."
Everyone knew he was physically strong, and a force as an athlete.
But it was in my dark, quiet bedroom that I saw his true depths.
He had lost his mother at such a young age, and it forced him to toughen up.
As I gazed into his troubled eyes, I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of compassion for the little boy who never got the chance to be nurtured and cared for by the one person he needed most in life.
"That may be the case, but I’m taking care of you tonight," I declared, putting my hand on my hip. "And don't even try to argue with me. You won't win."
He grinned slowly, and it did strange things to my pulse as I cleaned his wound and covered it with a band-aid. "Why are you the way that you are?"
"Because I'm a Leo," I said, playfully.
"Well that explains everything," he said sarcastically as he made himself comfortable on my bed. His eyes never wavered from mine.
"It's written in the stars, and out of my control," I murmured, closing the distance and climbing onto his lap.
His hands found their way to my thighs, staying below the hem of my shorts. Reese's gaze intensified, deepening somehow. "Remind me to call you Caro-lion instead of Care Bear from now on," he said, the quiet rasp in his voice teasing out goosebumps on my entire body.
"You can call me whatever you want," I murmured, breath brushing over his ear. "But that's all you get to do because I’m still taking care of you tonight."
Reese's expression shifted, the corner of his mouth curving up in that charmingly arrogant way. "I've never played this game before," he said, in a husky whisper. "But I'm intrigued."
"The rules are simple," I said, matching his energy with a sly grin. "I’m in control tonight. Your job is to lie back and enjoy it."
The tension between us was electric, his darkened eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my pulse race. "Is that what you want, baby?" he murmured, his voice a velvety growl that sent a shiver down my spine. "To be in control?"
I could barely breathe as I nodded, my voice trembling with anticipation. "Uh huh."
“Are you sure you want to do this tonight?” he asked, dragging his words out slowly.
“Uh huh,” I repeated. “This is just sex. We don’t need to overthink it. No feelings, nothing more.”
“Uh huh,” he said this time with a wicked grin. He leaned in, his lips brushing my ear as he added, “show me what you got."
My lips found Reese's in a kiss that detonated like fireworks in the quiet of my room. The familiar taste of his mint gum, how soft and tender his lips were, but still somehow so possessive. I was entranced. The way his mouth moved against mine—he was claiming me. It was addictive.
Reluctantly, I drew back, our breaths mingling, foreheads resting together. My voice, a shaky whisper, ured him in the darkness. "Lay back."
He did as he was told. This powerful man was following my directions.
A spark of desire ignited down my spine as my eyes traced over him—his athletic frame sprawled across my bed, the steady rise and fall of his chest. It was mesmerizing.
In this moment, I wanted to etch everything into memory: the way Reese Carrington, the most important person on the field, the alpha everyone respected, was willingly surrendering to me.
This man, who commanded attention without lifting a finger, was letting me take the lead.
I had been drowning in fear earlier, but now, I felt something else entirely—power.
Wells tried to take that from me, but this man here, in front of me, was handing it back.
He fought for me. Not because he had to.
Not because I asked. But because he couldn’t stand the thought of someone hurting me.
I was reveling in the delicious power I held over him—even if it would never happen again.
It wasn’t just his surrender; it was the way he gave it over, making me feel like I was the only one in the world who could unseat this king.
My lips found his once more, and the kiss deepened, growing bolder.
My fingers traced the outline of his jaw, feeling the stubble that grazed my fingertips.
Reese's hands hovered just above where my waist dipped inwards, as though he was asking for permission to break the rules already.
I gently guided his hands up and above his head, silently reminding him of the rules. Our agreement.
My lips wandered, leaving a trail of fevered kisses along the line of his throat. Every shudder was a victory, every small moan a testament to what this had become—me unraveling Reese Carrington, piece by piece.