Page 54 of Stealing Summer
His brow arched playfully, already knowing where I was going. Then he reached into the pocket of his jeans. In one smooth motion, he pulled out a set of keys and tossed them at me.
“Take care of Boston!” I yelled over the rain that had just started to pour.
I knew I had to go find Reese. When I got back to Willow’s house, I asked around frantically until someone mentioned he walked down to the boat dock. The rain poured down in sheets as I ran to the dock, my shoes splashing through growing puddles. There was no thunder, no dramatic claps to emphasize my turmoil. Just the relentless patter of rain, soaking through my clothes, plastering my hair to my skull. It felt fitting, this shitstorm that seems to keep unraveling all around me.
“Reese!” I yelled, as I saw him sitting with his legs dangling over the churning waters below.
He turned, his eyes meeting mine, not clouded by the weather but by whatever was going through his mind. The sight of him, so deceptively calm in the middle of this storm, made me even more angry—I could no longer hold my composure.
My voice cut through the sound of the rain, sharp and accusing. “Can you just tell me why? Why did you use me to get to Boston? How did you even know it would get to him?”
Water dripped from the tips of his lashes, as he looked over at me. “I already told you—I saw the way he looked at you. I know that look,” Reese said calmly, his voice barely rising above the din of the rainfall.
I frowned, tilting my head. “And what about us?” I demanded, the hurt evident in my tone. “Was everything just... just part of your plan?”
“I’m not answering that. You know everything between us was real.” he shook his head, standing up slowly.
“It’s not fair,” I spat out, the words tumbling from my lips, heavy with the weight of betrayal. “For using me to get to Boston. For whatever he’s going through right now because of you, for making me start to fall for you when you were the jerk everyone said you were this entire time!”
“Chandler,” he began, rising to his feet, the rain pouring down on his face like tears he would never shed. But I wasn’t finished. Not yet.
“Did you enjoy it?” I hurled the accusation, stepping closer, each word punctuated by the slap of water against the dock. “Manipulating me? Did you laugh about everything with your friends? Did you get what you wanted out of all this?”
“Of course not,” Reese countered, his voice raised above the thrum of rainfall. He took a step toward me, hands outstretched, as if wanting to bridge the gap with more than just words. “It wasn’t like that with you.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” I said sharply, holding up a hand, feeling the sting of raindrops against my palm. “How can I trust anything else you say?”
The rain couldn’t even drown out my thoughts, ones I wished I could unhear. Reese Carrington could reach parts of me I thought were untouchable. No matter how much the universe didn’t want us to be together, no matter how many people warned me that I couldn’t trust him, a part of me still wanted him—so badly.
“Hear me out,” he shouted back, his hair plastered to his forehead, drops clinging to his long lashes. “You matter to me. I know you feel it. Why does anything else matter?”
“Because it does,” I muttered, folding my arms protectively across my chest.
“Chandler, I wish I could have begun things differently,” he said, and maybe it was my name in his mouth that sounded like the sweetest melody, or the way his gaze softened when he said it. “I do, but I can’t.”
“You’re right, you can’t,” I interrupted, as I took an involuntary step toward him. “And now I can’t trust you and things are too complicated.”
He matched my advance, closing the gap until we were just a breath apart. “I regret why I first approached you, not that I did. Because meeting you?” Reese’s voice cracked, raw and earnest against the storm’s howl. “It changed everything. You’re the only girl that’s ever consumed all of my thoughts. You’re the only girl I think I’ve ever really cared about.”
His words, sincere as they seemed, did little to persuade me. I refused to let him in again. The rain mingled with the heat of anger on my skin, but the warmth of something else, something that refused to be extinguished by rage or reason, flickered stubbornly within.
“Well, there’s nothing you can do to make it right now,” my voice trembled, betraying the churning mess of emotions I fought to keep at bay. “We can’t undo any of it.”
“No,” he agreed, his jaw set, his eyes never leaving mine. “We can’t. But I’d do it all over again knowing it would end like this if it meant that I still got to spend the summer with you.”
The rain intensified, hitting the wooden planks of the dock with an unforgiving rhythm. “You think you can just walk into my life, mess up everything, and what? I’m supposed to be okay with it?” I hurled the words at Reese like daggers.
“Hartford,” he said, his voice laced with that infuriating calm that always seemed to surround him. “I know I hurt you. I’m sorry. I never used to care about who I hurt—but for some reason, when it comes to you, I care about everything.”
“Just stop,” I pleaded, but it wasn’t clear if I wanted him to stop talking or stop making my heart race despite my anger.
“Nah, can’t do that.” Reese closed the gap between us until I could feel the heat radiating from his body. “Because no matter how pissed you are, I still want you, and I know you still want me.”
“Even now, you’re doing it,” I spat out, my voice nearly lost in the tumult. “Charming your way through this. It’s maddening. Even when you make me so furious, you—you...” My voice faltered as his hands found my waist, pulling me against him, the world tilting dangerously.
“Even then,” he whispered before his lips crashed onto mine.
My lips parted uncontrollably, granting him access. His mouth moved with a desperation that spoke of unspoken apologies and silent promises. My fingers tangled in his wet hair, my body clinging to his. The rain continued to fall, relentlessly, as if what was happening between us was fueled by the sky. The raindrops mingled with our kiss, sliding down our cheeks and onto our lips. I could taste the rain on his tongue, the bitterness of the argument still lingered but was quickly dissolving with each passing moment.