Chapter 81
Kieran's POV
Mrs. Walker demonstrated the process: testing sap density, controlling heat, knowing when to stir, how to strain out impurities. Summer listened with intense focus, and when it was time for students to try, she stepped up with confidence I hadn't expected.
She stirred the boiling sap with careful precision, adjusting the angle of the wooden paddle, testing consistency with her fingertip the way Mrs. Walker had shown. The older woman beamed. "This girl's a natural! Everyone, come watch Summer's technique."
I stood at the back of the crowd, unable to look away. The way she bent over the kettle, the apron gaping slightly at the neckline. The way she bit her lip in concentration, cheeks pink from steam and heat. The way she licked a drop of syrup off her thumb to test sweetness, and my brain immediately flashed back to last night—my tongue on her skin, the salt-sweet taste of her, the way she'd gasped.
I swallowed hard, shoved my hands in my pockets. This was bad. This was so far past anything I could control.
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I got pushed to the back as more students crowded forward to watch. From my spot near the woodpile, I saw Blake pull out his iPhone, angling it toward Summer as she bent to stir the kettle again.
"Hayes in that outfit is kind of hot, not gonna lie," he muttered to the guy beside him—some kid from calc class. "You can actually see her body for once."
The guy snickered. "Yeah, man. I mean, she's always been pretty, but usually she hides it. This is like... damn."
My vision went red at the edges. I took a step forward before I could stop myself, but Logan grabbed my arm, his grip tight enough to hurt.
"Don't," he said quietly. "Not worth it."
I yanked my arm free, but I didn't move closer. Because Logan was right—it wasn't worth getting kicked out of the trip, wasn't worth giving Tyler and his crew more ammunition to use against me. But God, I wanted to. I wanted to make Blake swallow that phone, wanted to break his fingers so he'd never point a camera at her again.
Summer straightened up, wiping her hands on the apron, and Mrs. Walker clapped her on the shoulder. "Wonderful job, dear! You've got a real talent for this."
Summer's smile was genuine, bright and unguarded in a way I'd never seen before. It hit me like a punch to the chest—how beautiful she was when she wasn't second-guessing herself, when she wasn't aware of all the eyes on her.
And then Blake's phone clicked, the fake shutter sound loud enough to make her head snap up. Her smile faltered, and I watched the light drain out of her face as she realized what he was doing.
"Got a good one," Blake said to his friend, grinning. "Gonna post this later with some caption about 'farm girl fantasy' or something."
I didn't think. I just moved.
I crossed the space between us in three strides, grabbed Blake's wrist with my left hand—the good one—and twisted just hard enough to make him yelp and drop the phone. It clattered to the ground, screen-down in the dirt.
"What the hell, Cross?" Blake jerked back, cradling his wrist. "That hurt!"
"Good," I said, my voice flat and cold. "Delete the photo."
"It's just a picture, man. Chill out."
"Delete it. Now."
Tyler stepped forward, all swagger and false bravado. "You need to back off, scholarship boy. Blake can take whatever pictures he wants."
I didn't look at Tyler. I kept my eyes on Blake, and I let him see exactly how far I was willing to go. "Delete the photo, or I'll delete it for you. Along with your phone. And maybe a couple of your teeth."
Blake's face went pale. He bent down, picked up his phone with shaking hands, and fumbled with the screen. "Fine. Jesus. It's gone. Happy?"
"Ecstatic," I said, my tone making it clear I was anything but.
Mrs. Walker hurried over, her expression somewhere between concerned and disapproving. "Boys, is there a problem here?"
"No, ma'am," I said, stepping back. "Just a misunderstanding."
Blake shot me a look that promised retribution later, but he didn't say anything else. Tyler muttered something under his breath that sounded like "psycho," but he backed off too.
I turned away, my heart pounding, my right hand throbbing where I'd clenched it too hard. And when I looked up, I saw Summer staring at me from across the sugar shack, her eyes wide and unreadable.