“Are you hurt anywhere else?”
“I'm fine.”
“That’s crap and you know it!” I lift his shirt without asking. A bruise the size of my hand blooms across his ribs. “Kieran…”
“It looks worse than it is.” He catches my hands, stilling them against his skin.
“That doesn't make this okay.”
“No,” he agrees, giving me that lopsided grin. “But it was worth it.”
“Worth it? You threw away your win and got beaten up for it.”
“You think I give a shit about winning a baking competition?” His hands tighten on mine. “Juniper, you deserved that trophy. Your rolls were perfect?—”
“They weren't, though. The mixer broke. My timing was off. The glaze was rushed.”
“And they were still better than mine.”
“We'll never know that, will we? Because you threw yours on the floor.”
We stare at each other. He's still holding my hands against his chest. His heartbeat thumps under my fingers, steady and strong.
“Why? Tell me the real reason.”
He's been quiet for so long, I think he won't answer.
“The president needed to be visible at the festival.” He pauses, choosing his words carefully. “It was important to the club that we were there all day, with witnesses.”
“An alibi?”
He doesn't deny it.
“Jesus, Kieran. What are you involved in?”
“Nothing that touches you. Nothing that will ever touch you.” His voice is fierce. “But when I saw you struggling with that mixer, saw you fighting so hard to finish, I realized something.”
“What?”
“That I'd rather lose everything than watch you miss out on something you deserved.”
My throat tightens. “One of your MC fought you because you threw the competition?”
“No. He hurt me because I chose you over the club. He thought it wasn’t respectful. I showed him he was wrong and that you’re mine.” His thumb traces my cheekbone. “And I'd do it again. Every time. I would always choose you.”
I kiss him. Can't not kiss him. He makes a pained sound against my mouth, but when I try to pull back, he follows, deepening the kiss until I can't breathe.
I gasp for air. “We've only known each other for three days.”
“Doesn't matter.”
“Your club?—”
“Will get over it or they won't. Either way, I'm not giving you up.”
“Kieran—”
“I love you.”
