Caspian (Carolina Reapers 8)

A knowing smile crept across his arrogant face. “And how is it going with you and Ryleigh?” he asked.

“Fuck off. You know I’m just the means to an end with her.” I threw my bag on top of his and shut the hatch.

“Feeling a little sensitive there, are we?” He leaned back against the car and crossed one ankle over the other, folding his arms across his chest.

“Feeling like I have no business entangling myself with a woman who clearly wants another man.”

His brow puckered. “And yet, here you are, entangling yourself for a drive-in later tonight?”

“I…” I scratched my head.

“Right.”

“My mom…” Wait, was this still about the promise I’d made Mom? No, it was about Chuck…right?

“Uh huh.” A shit-eating smirk graced his punch-worthy face.

“You’re lucky you’re my best friend.” I scoffed. “Get in the damned car. We’re not going to be late.” I wasn’t about to be another man Ryleigh couldn’t depend on to show up, even if I wasn’t the guy who could stick around.

“A large popcorn, two cherry cokes, and a box of sour patch kids, please,” I requested from the attendant.

“Sure thing,” the high-schooler replied, smacking his gum as he filled the order behind the counter.

I turned around, leaning against the counter of the outdoor concession stand as Twister played on the twenty-foot-high screen four car rows away. It was muggy tonight, the air thick with what was going to be rain in the next hour-or-so if the forecast was right.

“Well, if it isn’t Caspian Foster,” a feminine voice said to my right.

A quick smile spread across my face as Rose Howell stepped into view. “I swear, you never age. You look exactly like you did the day we graduated high school.”

The brunette grinned, and I pulled her into a quick, familiar hug. I’d shared her bed over the years when I came home on visits, but it had always been a mutually beneficial friends-with-benefits agreement. It wasn’t like our hearts were involved or anything.

“Stop flattering me.” She play-smacked my arm and stepped back. “Word around town is that you’re pretty tight with Ryleigh Dunham. Is that why you haven’t called since you’ve been home?”

“There may be some truth to that.” I glanced across two rows of parked cars, like I’d be able to see Ryleigh where I’d left her in the back of the SUV if I squinted hard enough. “How is the shop?” Time to change the subject, since there was too much gray area between fact and acting when it came to Ryleigh.

“We’re doing well, thanks for asking.” She glanced left and right, no doubt making sure we couldn’t be heard by anyone. “So, is there any chance I might…see you before you head back to your all-star life back in Charleston?”

Ryleigh’s face flashed in front of my mind, her lips parted from our kiss, her eyes glazed with the first sparks of desire.

Under any other circumstances, I would have told Rose yes. Enthusiastically. I was never the kind of guy to pass up good, no-strings sex. But…I was surprised to realize that I didn’t want her. Not in that way. Not like I wanted Ryleigh.

My whole body went tight just thinking about the smart-mouthed redhead in my car.

“Caz?” Rose asked, softer this time.

I blinked.

“Not this time, Rose.” My lips tugged at the corners of my mouth as I gave her an apologetic smile.

Her eyes widened slightly, but she gave me a nod. “Tell Ryleigh she’s a lucky girl.”

My brain short-circuited. Lucky?

“Mr. Foster, here’s your order,” the attendant said, snagging my attention.

For fuck’s sake, I was so old that the kids around here called me mister? I left a good tip and carried the snacks away from the concession stand as Rose placed her order.

A tornado separated to two on-screen as I passed through the first row of cars, waving to London in the passenger seat of Dad’s truck with Sterling behind the wheel. “Hands where I can see them!” I shouted.

“Give me a break! We’re getting married in less than a week, Caz!” London fired back, offering me the view of one of her hands with a raised finger.

Ryleigh came around the corner of a blue pickup, tucking her hair behind her ears as the breeze picked up.

Damn, she looked good. Those shorts were just begging to get peeled off her body, and her tank top dipped just low enough to put her incredible cleavage on display. She was effortlessly sexy.

“Let me help,” she said as she took one of the sodas that I had precariously perched between my forearm and torso.

“I told you I’d get the snacks if you set up the blankets.”

“How very hunter gatherer of you,” she teased, walking at my side as we wove between the rows of cars. “And besides, I told you that you didn’t even have to bring me to this one. Chuck isn’t here.”