Chapter 78
Summer's POV
Five minutes later I had a large metal container lined with foil to prevent fish bones from poking through. I picked through the remaining food carefully, trying to look casual about it. The girls' side of the fire had been much more polite than the boys'—there were still a few good pieces of fish left, some slightly charred potatoes that nobody wanted, a handful of roasted vegetables.
I took the best fish I could find, the one with the golden belly that still glistened with fat. Two whole baked potatoes. A generous portion of vegetables. I packed it all carefully into the container until it looked like a small mountain of food.
Ms. Thompson appeared beside me. "That's quite an appetite, Miss Hayes."
My face went hot. "I'm really hungry. And I hate wasting food."
She studied me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then she smiled slightly. "Of course. Make sure you finish it all."
I tucked a few chocolate cookies from my backpack into the corners of the container, remembering how Kieran had carefully saved the Pop-Tart I'd given him weeks ago. He'd told me fish belly was the most tender part when he was teaching me to clean the trout. I'd made sure to choose carefully.
By the time Kieran returned with the last load, most people had gone to their cabins. He looked exhausted, his shoulders hunched under the weight of the final two boxes. His wet hoodie clung to his frame, and there were fresh mud stains on his pants where he must have slipped on the trail.
Logan clapped him on the back. "All set, man. You're a beast."
Kieran just nodded, setting down the boxes. He glanced toward the bonfire area again, taking in the empty table and scattered trash. Something flickered in his eyes—disappointment, maybe, or resignation. Like he'd expected this.
I waited until he started walking away from the lodge before I grabbed the food container and a water bottle, then slipped into the darkness after him.
The path to the stream was easier to navigate than I'd expected, moonlight filtering through the bare branches overhead. I found Kieran crouched by the water's edge, washing mud off his shoes and pants with freezing stream water. His hands looked red and raw in the dim light.
"Hey," I said softly, not wanting to startle him.
He looked up, surprise clear on his face before he schooled it into something more neutral. "Summer. What are you doing here?"
"I brought you something." I held up the container and water bottle.
He stood slowly, water dripping from his hands. "You should be back at the lodge. It's getting cold."
"So should you." I looked around for somewhere to sit, then spotted a large flat rock a few feet away. I pulled off my fleece jacket and spread it over the stone. "Come sit with me? Please?"
Kieran hesitated, his eyes moving from the jacket to my face. "You'll ruin it."
"It's just a jacket." I sat down on one side, patting the space beside me. "Come on. I promise the rock won't bite."
The corner of his mouth twitched, almost a smile. He walked over slowly, like he was approaching something that might disappear if he moved too fast. When he sat down beside me, careful to leave a few inches of space between us, I had to resist the urge to close the gap.
"You must be freezing," I said, noticing how his hoodie was still damp. The mountain night had a gentle quality to it despite the cold, the distant sounds of the camp mixing with the quiet rush of the stream. Out here it felt private, separate from everything else.
"I'm fine." He rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them. "What's in the container?"
I opened it carefully, revealing the fish and potatoes and vegetables. "Dinner. I saved it for you."
His eyes widened slightly. "Summer—"
"Don't argue." I cut him off gently. "You carried four trips worth of supplies while everyone else ate. The least I can do is make sure you don't go to bed hungry."
He stared at the food like he wasn't sure what to do with it. "Did you eat?"
I'd only managed a few bites of potato before my stomach had been too knotted with worry to continue. But in the darkness, he couldn't see my face clearly enough to catch the lie. "I ate tons! I'm so full I might pop."
"Summer." His voice held a note of skepticism.
"I'm serious." I pushed the container toward him. "This is the best fish—the one with the golden belly. You said that part is the most tender, remember? And the potatoes are perfectly cooked. I made sure to pick good ones."
The silence stretched between us. Kieran reached for the container, then stopped. "I can't use a fork properly. My right hand—"
"I know." I'd noticed how he compensated with his left, how certain movements were awkward or impossible. "I could tear the fish into pieces for you? Or..." I took a breath, my heart hammering. "I could feed you?"
His lips parted slightly, those gray eyes fixing on mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. He looked like he was waiting for me to continue, like he was genuinely considering letting me do it.
I picked up a piece of fish belly with my fingers, trying to separate the tender meat from the bones. But my hands were shaking from cold and nervousness, and hot fish oil dripped down my fingers toward my wrist. "Oh no—"
"Don't waste it." Kieran's voice was quiet but firm. His knee bumped against mine, stopping me from getting up to wash my hands in the stream. "It didn't touch the ground. It's still clean."
I froze, my oily fingers suspended in the air between us. "But it's messy—"
"Hold out your hand." He shifted closer, his eyes never leaving mine. "Closer."
I extended my hand toward him, my pulse racing so fast I could hear it in my ears. The fish oil was cooling on my skin, sticky and warm.
"Can I..." He paused, his gaze dropping to my fingers, then back to my face. His voice was careful, almost polite. "Can I lick it off?"