The argument grew louder, and a dozen or so costumed players spilled into the office like a mosh pit at a concert.Someone yelled from the opposite end of the room, and the crowd shifted. A tall boy with a golden crown over dark hair fell backward, one of his hands above his head, the other holding a spilling red Solo cup as he stumbled after something.“I got it! I got it!” he yelled.Oh crap. “Watch it!” I stuck out my leg to stop him from crashing into me. But it was too late.He dropped the ball, tripped, and fell onto my lap, his beer splashing all over me.Warm, pee-smelling liquid dripped off my chin. I shoved the idiot to the floor. “Are you freakin’ kidding me?”He picked up his crown and shook it dry. “My bad. Wild throw.”That voice. Why did it sound so familiar?The room erupted in laughter as my cheeks seared with heat. “I’m sure it was.” I tucked my phone away and kicked the clumsy royal as I passed by.“Eliza?” he called.I turned around slowly, and my pulse raced faster than a rookie actor’s with stage fright. “Reed? Reed Fulton?”Great. Just great.Of all the summers for the Reed Plague to hit, it had to hit this one. What next? Locusts?Reed jumped up and straightened his fluffy white shirt. “What’s it been, four, five years?”“Four.” My eye twitched.He had grown at least a foot taller since I last saw him. The broad shoulders and stubble on his jaw were new, but he still had that same annoying smirk and that dimple . . . “That’s right,” he said. “I was thirteen when—”“You deserved it,” I snapped.He reached around me and grabbed my drink, taking a long sip. Whatever. I didn’t like it anyway. “So what’s Princess Crowley doing at a party? Shouldn’t you be home letting your daddy tuck you in?”“Shouldn’t you be back on the farm milking cows?” The Fultons didn’t have cows, but that was always my go‑to.His ears reddened. “Actually, I’m here to pitch against your dad’s team this summer.”Crap, I forgot he pitched. And didn’t I read somewhere that he was really good? Like really, really good? “So was this whole bet your granddad’s foolish idea or yours?”A hush fell over the room. Even the music grew softer.“There’s nothing foolish about claiming back what’s always been rightfully ours.” Reed stood up straighter. “But don’t worry. I’m sure we won’t embarrass the Crowley dynasty too badly.”I chuckled and stepped closer, kicking the baseball to the side. “The only one who should be worried about being embarrassed this season is you, Fulton.”Half the people at the party now watched us with unblinking eyes, most of them with their phones already recording our standoff. The town lived for this.Crowley versus Fulton.
Copyright © 2026 by Cassie Miller. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
