Chapter 28

"Chan?"I heard Parker yell out. "Everything alright out there?"

"Give me a second," I answered, my gaze transfixed. My heart raced, the revelation dawning on me, leaving me reeling.

"Is that...?" I whispered, my voice barely breaking the silence of the night.

The petals shimmered in a radiant shade of blue, rare and resplendent under the soft porch light. A few of my grandmas favorite flowers were in a white flower pot, its bloom a vibrant defiance against the dark. The sight of it transported me, as if my grandmother herself had brushed her fingers against the delicate petals. For the first time in seven years, I could feel her presence. It was overwhelming.

"Chandler, what is it?" Parker"s voice came from behind me, but I could hardly move, let alone respond.

"Grandma used to grow these," I managed to say, my voice thick with emotion. "They"re so rare..." I felt a tear trail down my cheek. It was beautiful—no, it was more than that; it was a visit from the past, a fleeting embrace from someone I"d lost who meant the world to me.

"Reese," I murmured, the realization hitting me like a gentle wave. Only Reese with his reckless determination could pull off something like this.

"Did you say Reese?" Parker asked, stepping up beside me, his gaze following mine.

I nodded, unable to take my eyes off the flower. "He remembered," I said, disbelief coloring my tone. "I told him once, about grandma"s garden. About how much these flowers meant to her... to me."

"Wow," Parker exhaled, the word hanging between us. "That"s... That"s some gesture."

I sensed he didn"t fully grasp the gravity of the moment.

"It is," I murmured, unable to tear my eyes away from it. It was stunning, overwhelming, and so intrinsically Reese.

"Definitely not your average apology," Parker commented, a soft chuckle in his voice. "I mean, it's kinda impressive."

"Can I borrow your car?" I asked.

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.

"Reese..." I clung to him, the coolness of the rain seeping into my flesh, but nothing compared to the heat that radiated from our entwined bodies. My heart pounded, echoing the rhythm of the rainfall, and despite the conflicting feelings of desire and frustration, I couldn't ignore how good this felt—even if it was wrong. Reese was either the best thing or the worst—I couldn't tell which.

"I like it when you moan my name," he said, his voice low.

"You're making this so much harder. I don't know how this can ever work," I confessed, my voice barely audible over the rain.

"Do you wanna get out of the rain?" the sound of water overshadowed his question, slapping against the wooden pillars below.

"No," I whispered, looking up at him. "Don't stop kissing me."

He obeyed without hesitation. The strength of his arms pulled me in tight as he lowered himself onto the dock, the old wood shifting under his weight. There was a steadiness in him that blocked out the surrounding chaos, and as he pulled me on top of him, I clung to him as if it were my lifeline.

He groaned as I bent to kiss the raindrops from his collarbone, the taste of the storm mingling with the warmth of his flesh. "You're driving me crazy."

"What are you going to do about it?" I teased, my voice filled with desire.

"You have no idea what I could do to you," he said, his eyes darkening with hunger.

His grip on my waist tightened in response to every kiss I planted along the path of revealed skin.

"Reese," I breathed out, parting from the intoxicating embrace just long enough to glimpse those piercing eyes, "I—I've never..."

"Never what?" he asked, the rain trailing down his chiseled face.

"Never... had sex before," I confessed, my voice barely above the sound of the rain.

"Chandler," he said, his voice low and husky, sending a jolt through me. He leaned in, his forehead resting against mine, our breaths mingling. "We don't have to do anything you're not ready for."

But that response, his proximity, everything about him—made me consumed with want. The usual caution that guided my actions, that reminded me of who I was—safe. Used to being in her bubble, Chandler seemed to dissolve under his touch.

"Maybe I am ready," I whispered, as I tried to push away any thoughts of doubt or worry about what I was getting myself into—I couldn't let those thoughts talk me out of this.

"No, you're not ready for that, but tell me what you want—be real with me," his eyes were serious and his voice was calm.

"Just touch me," I managed to get out before kissing him again.

His hands explored every inch of me—from the curve of my breasts to the dip of my waist—each touch sent sparks flying along my nerves until they pooled in an intoxicating heat between my thighs.

"Wait," I gasped between kisses, my voice barely a whisper. "What if someone sees us?" A flicker of caution I was unable to silence.

He leaned back, his gaze locking with mine. The corners of his lips turned up in a mischievous smile. "Then we better give them a show," he teased, his hands, strong and assertive, wrapped around my waist, drawing me in until there was no space left for doubt or fear.

His fingers worked at the button of my jeans, popping it open with a soft click that seemed to echo in the stormy silence. The zip followed a whisper of sound drowned out by our heavy breaths. His thumb brushed over the cotton of my underwear, a teasing pressure that sent jolts of pleasure radiating through me. I arched into him, moaning his name, craving more of the exquisite torture.

"More," I gasped, the rain mingling with the heat flushing my cheeks.

He eased my jeans down, his fingers slipping beneath the edge of my underwear with a boldness that belied his usual playful smirk. One finger slid inside, and then another to find me slick and ready for him—drawing a sharp intake of breath from me. His thumb resumed its slow circles as he continued to kiss me—I was leaning against him, riddled with need.

"Fuck," he said, his voice thick with want as he watched me. "You're so beautiful like this, wet from the storm... and you're so wet for me."

"God, Reese..." My hands found his arms, feeling his muscles beneath my grip, as if he too were holding on for dear life. Every movement of his hand, every deliberate stroke, sent a cascade of sensations that echoed the relentless downpour around us.

"That's it, baby," he coaxed, as he continued working me.

"I don't want things to be complicated—I just want you," I moaned, feeling close to the edge.

"You can have whatever you want," he promised, his actions amplifying the words.

Our moans, intertwined with the rain's patter, created a symphony that filled the air. Each surge of pleasure brought me closer to the edge, and Reese, ever the conductor of my desires, played me like an instrument he knew all too well. I felt myself unraveling, my composure slipping away.

"Shit," I gasped, my voice barely above a breath, "you're... you're making it impossible to be mad at you."

"Good," he responded with that signature smirk of his. "Don't fight it."

The pressure was building and Reese's grip on me tightened, not just physically but emotionally too, as if he was determined to hold me together while simultaneously pulling me apart at the same time.

"Stay with me," Reese whispered against the curve of my neck, his breath hot on my skin. His words were more than a request. They were a lifeline as I felt the waves beginning to crash over me.

"Reese, I—I—" The rest of my sentence got lost in a moan as the tension spiraled, coiling tighter and tighter.

"That's it," he urged, his tone commanding yet laced with something soft and tender. "I've got you."

And with those three words, it sent me spiraling. The world was closing in on me with his arms securely around me and the overwhelming rush of release. I clung to him, nails digging into the warmth of his skin, as wave after wave of ecstasy tore through me, leaving me breathless and spent in the aftermath.

"That was so hot," Reese said softly, with a grin.

"Can't argue that," I whispered back, feeling like I could barely stand.

As we broke apart, panting and soaked to the bone, reality rushed back in like the water around our feet. "I leave tomorrow," I said weakly.

"I know," Reese said, his thumb tracing my jawline. "Let's not ruin the moment."

I couldn't help myself from asking, "But where do we go from here?"

The question hung between us with uncertainty.

"I don't know," he said gently. "But I have you right now, and that's what matters." And with that, he pulled me into his arms, the strength of his embrace shielding me from the relentless downpour.

I understood why it might have been so easy to fall under his spell, why once you started going down a path with him—there might not be a way to turn back. As much as I hated to admit it, the overwhelming desire I had for him consumed me.

"By the way," I kissed him on the cheek, "thank you for the gift."

"That was not easy to get," he said, his voice low and slightly amused. "But you're worth it."

At that moment, surrounded by his warmth, listening to the raindrops and racing heartbeats, everything felt perfect—impossibly, irrationally perfect. And although I knew that perfection was fleeting, I allowed myself to savor it, to hold on to it for just a little while longer.