Walking away, I head to the showers, but his words play in my head like a broken record.
Pushing through the locker room doors after I get dressed, I scan the waiting crowd until I spot her. Standing there with Delaney and that purple-haired girl—Demi, I think. Reese's cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright in a way that tells me she's been drinking. Fucking great. She knows I hate when she drinks without me there.
I stride over, nodding briefly at Delaney and her cousin. "Ladies."
Delaney gives me a knowing smirk. "Blackwood. Nice game."
I don't bother with small talk. Instead, I reach down andscoop Reese up, tucking her under my arm against my side like she weighs nothing. Her surprised squeal is music to my ears.
"C'mon, star, we got somewhere to be," I say, already walking away.
"Ramsey! What the hell?" She squirms against me, but I can feel her heart racing where her chest presses against my ribs.
"Bucket list," is all I say, and she goes still.
I don't look back at Delaney and her cousin, but I can feel their eyes on us as we push through the crowd. People step out of my way—they always do—and within minutes we're outside in the cold night air.
"Put me down," Reese demands, smacking my shoulder. "I can walk, you know."
I set her on her feet but keep my arm around her waist. "You've been drinking."
"Just a little Fireball," she admits, not looking sorry at all. "Delaney had a flask."
"Of course she did," I mutter. That girl is trouble incarnate, perfect for Cope's fucked-up ass. "How much did you have?"
Reese rolls her eyes. "Relax, Blackwood. I'm not drunk. Just...buzzy."
I steer her toward my truck, parked in the players' reserved section. "Not too buzzy to cross something off your list tonight?"
She stops walking, her eyes widening. "Which one?"
I lean down, my lips brushing against her ear as I whisper, "Number four. Dancing in the rain with no lights."
"But it's not raining," she points out, confusion crossing her face.
I smirk, opening the passenger door for her. "It will be. Get in."
She buckles up without argument, which is fucking rare for her stubborn ass. I slide into the driver's seat and crank the engine, the truck roaring to life. As I pull out of the parking lot, Reese fiddles with the radio until she finds some indie shit I normally hate, but tonight I let it slide.
We drive in silence for a while, the city lights fading behind us as I take us deeper into the countryside. The roads get narrower, rougher, until we're barely on a road at all. Just dirt and gravel crunching under the tires.
I glance over at Reese. She's got her face turned toward the window, the moonlight casting shadows across her perfect fucking profile. My hands tighten on the wheel. I want her so bad it physically hurts, like a constant ache in my chest that never quite goes away.
After about forty minutes of driving, I finally find what I'm looking for—a clearing near a small stream, far enough from everything that there's not a single artificial light in sight. Just darkness, the sound of water, and a sky full of stars like someone spilled diamonds across black velvet.
I cut the engine, and we just sit in silence for a moment.
"Where the hell are we?" Reese asks quietly, turning to look at me.
"Middle of nowhere," I answer, unbuckling my seatbelt. "Exactly where we need to be."
She peers out the window, taking in the darkness around us. "Why this one? Why dancing in the rain?"
I shrug, trying to act casual, even though my heart's pounding like a fucking war drum. "Well, I was considering the tattoo, but not now since you’ve been drinking. So dancing it is. And according to the weather, it's supposed to rain in just a few minutes."
She raises an eyebrow. "You planned this? Checked the weather forecast and everything?"
"I plan everything," I remind her, opening my door and stepping out into the cool night air.
