Chapter 215
Summer's POV
"I have to go," I said.
I shoved the massive bouquet back into Damian's arms, not caring that it knocked against his chest, probably crushing some of those perfect roses.
Then I ran.
"Summer!" Victoria's voice followed me, sharp with surprise. "Where are you—"
But I was already pushing through the crowd, those ridiculous heels I'd worn for the performance making me stumble.
I had to find him.
I had to explain.
Because the look on his face when I'd seen him in the bleachers—that soft, vulnerable expression that Kieran only ever showed me—it had been real. He'd been happy to see me perform. Proud, maybe.
And then Damian had walked onstage.
God, what must he be thinking?
I burst through the gym's side doors into the cool evening air, my breath coming in gasps that had nothing to do with running.
The parking lot stretched out before me, already half-empty. Cars pulling away, families heading home. I spun in a circle, searching.
Please, I thought desperately. Please still be here.
And then I saw him.
---
He was standing by the far side of the building, in the narrow space between the gym and the equipment shed. Back against the brick wall, hands shoved deep in his hoodie pockets, shoulders hunched like he was trying to make himself smaller.
The orange light from the setting sun cut through the gap between buildings, throwing long shadows across the ground. It made him look like he was already halfway to disappearing.
"Kieran."
My voice came out breathless, too loud in the quiet space.
He looked up. For a second—just one second—I saw everything on his face. The hurt, the anger, the bone-deep exhaustion of someone who'd been fighting too long.
Then it all went cold.
"You didn't leave," I said, taking a step closer. My hands were shaking. "I thought you—when I saw the flowers on the bench, I thought—"
"I was leaving," he said. His voice was flat, empty of everything except a kind of bitter exhaustion. "Still am."
"Wait." I moved closer, close enough to see the tension in his jaw, the way his hands were clenched in his pockets. "Please. I need to explain—"
"Explain what?" He cut me off, and now there was something sharp in his voice. Something that made me flinch. "That you're going to dinner with Tom Ford over there? That this—" he gestured vaguely between us, "—was fun while it lasted, but now it's time to get back to reality?"
"What? No!" The words burst out of me. "I'm not—I would never—"
"I saw you, Summer." His voice cracked on my name. "I saw him touch you. Saw you smile at him. Saw you take his fucking flowers like they meant something."
"I didn't smile at him!" The denial shot out of me, fierce and immediate. "I was mortified, Kieran. I froze up there—I couldn't even think straight. And I didn't want the flowers! I gave them back! I ran out here to find you—"
"Who was he?"
I blinked up at him. His jaw was tight, that muscle jumping near his ear the way it did when he was trying not to lose his temper.
"Damian Sterling," I said. The truth felt safer than trying to dance around it. "My mom's business partner's son. I'd never met him before today."
"You looked pretty cozy for strangers."
The words landed like a slap. I felt my face heat, shame and anger twisting in my gut.
"That was just—it's social protocol, Kieran. I didn't—"
"Social protocol?" He let out a sharp laugh that had nothing to do with humor. "Right. Summer, don't lie to yourself. Your mother's setting you up with 'appropriate people.' That Damian guy? He's one of the candidates. And you know what?" His voice dropped, went quieter, more dangerous. "I watched you from up there. You smiled at him. That perfect, polite smile you do when you're being the Hayes family princess."
"That's not what I wanted!"
The words ripped out of me, too loud in the small space. I could feel tears burning at the corners of my eyes, hot and humiliating.
"But that's your destiny." Kieran's voice had gone hollow. "You belong in that world, Summer. Standing under the lights in a dress your mother designed, holding flowers that cost more than my weekly paycheck, getting a standing ovation. And me?" His laugh was bitter. "I'm hiding in the top row with two sad flowers wrapped in newspaper, watching you like some creep who doesn't know his place."
My chest felt too tight. Like someone had wrapped bands around my ribs and was pulling them tighter and tighter.
"Stop it," I whispered.
"Stop what? Telling the truth?"
"Stop acting like you don't matter!" The words came out sharper than I meant them to. "Stop pretending like what we have isn't real just because—because you're scared!"
His eyes flashed. "I'm not scared."
"Yes, you are." I took a step toward him, even though every instinct was screaming at me to back away from the anger radiating off him in waves. "You're terrified. Not of me, not of us—you're scared that you'll start to believe you deserve this. Deserve me. And then it'll all fall apart and you'll be left with nothing."
"Summer—"
"No." I shook my head, hard enough that my ponytail whipped against my neck. "I'm done with this. I'm done with you deciding what I want, what I deserve, who I should be with. You don't get to make those choices for me."
"I'm trying to protect you!"
"From what? From you?" I let out a laugh that sounded too much like a sob. "Kieran, you're not dangerous. You're not going to hurt me. The only person you're hurting right now is yourself."
His hands were clenched at his sides. I could see them shaking.
"You don't understand," he said, and his voice had gone rough. "You don't know what it's like to watch someone like him walk up to you. Perfect hair, perfect suit, probably went to boarding school and has a trust fund and never had to worry about whether there'd be food on the table. He can give you everything, Summer. Everything I can't."
"I don't want everything," I said. My voice broke on the last word. "I just want you."
The silence that followed felt endless.
Kieran stared at me like I'd spoken in a language he didn't understand. His throat worked as he swallowed.
"You say that now," he finally managed. "But what about later? When you're at MIT or Juilliard or wherever you end up, surrounded by people like him? People who fit into your world?"