“Why?” she asks quietly.
“You know why.”
“I think your club president isn’t happy.”
I glance at Colt, who's already leaving with Viper and Hunter.
“Probably.”
“It was your win.”
"No, beautiful. It was yours. It was always your win.”
She rises on her toes and kisses me, right there in front of everyone. The crowd whoops. Someone whistles. When she pulls back, her lipstick is smeared and her eyes are shining.
“You're a fool,” she says.
“Yeah.”
“My fool?”
“If you'll have me.”
She kisses me again, and I know the Prez’s anger will be worth it. Some things matter more than following orders. Some people matter more.
And my Juniper? She matters most of all.
Chapter Seven
JUNIPER
The trophy sits on my kitchen counter, catching the afternoon light. It should feel like a victory. Instead, it feels like theft.
I've replayed that moment a hundred times. Kieran reaches into his oven, his hand jerking, the pan flipping. Except his hand didn't jerk. There was no stumble. He threw those rolls on the ground as deliberately as if he'd painted a target on the floor first.
For me.
My phone buzzes with congratulatory texts I can't bring myself to answer. Luna wants to throw me a party at The Coffee Heart. My mom actually said she was proud, though she followed it with questions about when I'm getting a ‘real’ job.
Stanley bubbles on the counter, indifferent to my moral crisis.
“He gave up his win. Who does that?” I tell him.
Kieran had to attend a meeting with his club, but told me he’d be back by late afternoon. I play music and try to distract myself.
Three knocks on my door. Soft, almost hesitant.
Kieran looks rough. His leather cut is absent, replaced by a plain black henley. There's a bruise darkening along his jaw that wasn't there this morning.
“Jesus. What happened to your face?”
“Disagreement with a brother.”
“About the competition?”
“About my priorities.”
I step aside to let him in. He moves stiffly, favoring his right side.
