Chapter 18

"Really?You want me to be your date?" I asked in disbelief. Reese snickered.

"Why wouldn't I? Come on Hartford, you must know how I feel about you by now." He cupped my face in his hands. "I like you and I want to show you off."

My heart swelled, and I threw my arms around his neck. "Fine, I'll go with you, but I am not wearing a princess dress!"

"You can wear this swimsuit for all I care. You'll be a knockout," he said, smirking at me.

I couldn't stop smiling, still stunned that he asked me to go with him. Out of all the girls in this town that would be dying to go. Although, I couldn't help but compare Reese's openness with Boston's confusing and guarded demeanor lately. It felt like Boston was always holding something back, leaving me grasping for answers. Speaking to Reese, however, felt like a breath of fresh air—he said exactly what he wanted and didn't hold back, and I kind of loved that about him.

"Are you two lovebirds ever going to join the party?" Crew's voice yelled across the boat, shattering the moment between Reese and me. His mischievous grin was evident even from a distance as he waved his drink in the air.

I glanced over at the rest of our friends, who were chatting with others on the boat tied up next to ours while lounging on colorful floats in the water. The sun reflected off the gentle waves, casting a shimmering glow on everyone.

"Guess we should join the others," Reese murmured, his eyes lingering on mine for just a moment longer before he offered me his hand. I placed mine in his, feeling the warmth of his touch, and we made our way back toward the group.

"Finally!" Crew exclaimed once we were within reach, wrapping an arm around Reese and pulling him away.

As we joined them, I couldn't help but notice a few girls on the boat next to ours giving me dirty looks. My heart sank a little, but I knew that saying yes to going to the Bayside Ball with Reese would come with its fair share of jealousy and resentment just like this. It was no secret that practically every girl in town had a thing for Reese. And now here I was, ordinary Chandler Hartford, scoring the hottest date. I steeled myself, remembering that I could handle it.

Reese wrapped a towel around my shoulders, and one of the girls nearby glared at me before tossing her hair and turning away. I hid a smile, thinking of the ridiculousness of their envy.

The engine's low growl subsided as we glided smoothly up to the dock, Reese's boat reflecting the kaleidoscope of colors still lingering in the night sky from the fireworks. Around us, other boats bobbed gently on the water, filled with others who had watched the show, leaning back with drinks in hand.

"You were right. Fireworks are much better on the lake," I confessed, watching Reese expertly tie the boat off.

"The only way to watch," he replied, shooting me that half-smirk I was beginning to grow fond of. He straightened up, surveying the scene with those hypnotic green eyes.

It was then that they came strolling down the dock—a couple of baseball players I recognized from another team that the Blue Devils had just defeated. It seemed evident they had indulged in both the fireworks display and an excess of alcohol. Their laughter was loud and obnoxious.

"Look who it is," one sneered, nudging his buddy. "Reese Carrington, playing captain of daddy's boat."

"Must be nice, having everything handed to you on a silver platter," another added, his tone was dark.

Reese didn't so much as flinch. His carefree demeanor remained undisturbed, but it felt like there might be a storm brewing just under the surface of his calm.

"Jealousy's a bad look on you, boys," Reese responded, his voice laced with a subtle challenge that was nearly imperceptible.

"Easy for you to say," the first guy shot back, taking a step closer, his eyes scanning over Reese's boat. "We don't just get handed a starting position either, we have to earn it."

Reese let out a gentle laugh, unaffected as if their words were nothing he hadn't heard before. It was that dangerous charisma that drew me to him, that made me want to know the man behind the mystery, to uncover the depths hidden beneath the surface. But for those who dared to cross him, I was worried about what was underneath.

"Must really burn you up inside," Reese said, his voice never rising above a casual tone. He stood there and I could almost see a hint of a smile on his face.

"Bet you need daddy to fight your battles for you too," another taunted, voice laced with ridicule. It was then that their eyes landed on me. I had been quietly watching from the boat, with my arms crossed protectively over my chest.

"Hey, look at this one," one jeered, pointing at me with a malicious grin. "Money sure buys pretty company."

"Leave her the fuck out of it," Reese said, his voice taking on a harder edge, but still eerily composed. The atmosphere shifted, and it felt like everyone watching held their breath.

"Or what?" one man challenged, stepping even closer.

Reese's response was not in words. With a calm that was more terrifying than any display of anger, he began to peel off his shirt, revealing his upper body crafted by more than just baseball—probably hours of working out. The motion was unhurried and deliberate, and it wasn't until the fabric slid off his arms and dropped to the deck that I saw the moment of realization in their eyes, indicating they had just pushed the limit too far and made a grave miscalculation.

In a fluid movement too quick to fully grasp, Reese moved closer to the one who made that comment and his right hook connected with his jaw. The sound of impact was sharp. The guy's head snapped backward from the force of the blow, and for a moment, everything seemed to freeze—the crowd, the other boats, the gentle lap of water against the dock—all the other noise stopped.

"Reese, stop!" I called out. I should have been appalled, should have been thinking of ways to pull Reese out of this mess, but all I could focus on was how he captivated me. him, his body—the defined ridges on his perfectly sculpted abs, and the deep lines that seemed to trail down and disappear into his waistband.

"Just need a second!" Reese shouted without looking at me, his entire focus on the two trying to overwhelm him. The second one joined his friend in what seemed like a coordinated effort to try to take Reese down. But Reese sidestepped, deflecting blows.

"Guys, break it up!" Crew's commanding voice cut through the commotion. He and Bailey muscled their way through the gathering crowd. They pulled Reese away and separated from the fight.

"Easy now," Bailey said, his tone light but firm as he held one of them away at arm's length.

"Having fun without us?" Crew joked, though his eyes were serious as he assessed the situation.

Reese straightened up, brushing a hand through his dark hair as if there was nothing to see. "Wouldn't dream of it," he replied with a smirk, looking at his friends as the surrounding tension began to dissipate.

"Man, you're crazy," Bailey said, shaking his head but grinning all the same.

"Come on, let's get out of here before it gets worse," Crew suggested, glancing around at everyone starting to whisper.

"Sure thing," Reese agreed, his smile never wavering. He walked over to me, extending a hand as though I had been through something myself. "You okay?"

"Fine," I said, accepting his hand, feeling the warmth of his palm against mine. His grip was steady, reassuring. I tried not to think about how that same hand had just been clenched in a fist, how it seemed capable of both tenderness and destruction.

"Let's get outta here," Reese said, and there was a lightness in his voice that contrasted the intensity of the moments before. As we left the chaos behind, I couldn't shake the disquieting thoughts in my head—this man inexplicably drew me in.