He leans against the kitchenette counter, considering. “Okay, here’s the honest assessment. The good first. It’s clean, well-maintained, and in a great location. Martha clearly takes care of her property. The windows are solid, the heating works, and having utilities included is a big plus. The water pressure is decent, and I didn’t see any signs of leaks or structural issues.”
“And the bad?”
“It’s small. Really small. You’re not going to have much storage space, and the kitchenette is pretty limited. The oven is tiny—you’ll have to get creative if you’re practicing for cooking competitions.” He gestures to the two-burner stove. “And you’ll be living directly above a bookstore, which means you’ll probably hear customers during the day.”
I look around the space, trying to see it through his eyes. It is small. And the kitchenette will take some getting used to. But it’smine. Or it could be. And I can practice for the competition in River’s massive kitchen.
“But overall?” I prompt, needing his final verdict.
River’s expression softens. “Overall, it’s a good deal. Nine hundred a month for a place this close to the harbor, with utilities included, in a safe building with a landlord who actually cares? That’s hard to find. You’d be fine here, Kiera. More than fine.”
Relief floods through me, so powerful it makes my knees weak. This is really happening. I can really do this. And I can’t believe River took time out from all of his editing to come help me assess the apartment.
Before I can think about what I’m doing, I close the distance between us and throw my arms around River in a hug.
He hesitates a moment, then his arms come up around me, pulling me closer. One hand rests on my back, warm and steady, and the other settles at my waist. He smells like soap and something woodsy and utterly distracting, and I’m suddenly aware of everything—the solidness of his chest against mine, the way his heart is beating just a little too fast, the warmth of his breath near my hair.
Attraction zings through me like electricity, sharp and undeniable. My whole body lights up with awareness, and I can feel the exact places where we’re touching—my arms aroundhis shoulders, his hands on my back and waist, the way we fit together like we’ve done this a thousand times before.
This is dangerous. I’m feeling things I promised myself I wouldn’t. This is exactly what I swore I wouldn’t let happen.
I pull back quickly, maybe too quickly, my heart racing. River lets me go immediately, stepping back to give me space, but the feeling of being in his arms lingers on my skin like a phantom touch. I can still feel the warmth of his hands, the solid strength of him, the way my body responded to his proximity.
“Sorry,” I say, my voice coming out breathless. “I just—I’m excited. This is really happening.”
“Don’t apologize.” His voice is rough, and when I risk a glance at his face, his eyes are darker than usual, focused on me with an intensity that makes my stomach flip. “I’m happy for you, Kiera. You deserve this.”
I force myself to look away, to focus on the apartment instead of the way my body is still humming from that brief contact. “I should tell Martha I’ll take it. Sign whatever paperwork she needs.”
“Yeah.” River clears his throat and shoves his hands in his pockets. “That’s a good idea.”
We head back downstairs together, and I’m hyperaware of every inch of space between us. My skin still tingles where he touched me. I can still feel the impression of his arms around me, the way it felt safe and terrifying all at once.
This is definitely a problem. Because I’m not supposed to feel this way about River Stone. I’m not supposed to want him to touch me again, to hold me longer, to look at me the way he was looking at me just now. I’m supposed to keep this professional, keep my walls up, protect myself from getting hurt again. Besides, River’s way out of my league.
But as Martha appears with the lease paperwork and a pen, and River stands beside me offering quiet encouragement, I can’t deny the truth anymore.
I’m in trouble. The kind of trouble that starts with a harmless hug and ends with a shattered heart.
And I have no idea how to stop it.
CHAPTER 8
RiverStone
Tuesday, June 1
I stareat the timeline on my monitor, the playhead blinking at me like an accusation. I’m supposed to be cutting together the interview with Mrs. Morrison, layering in B-roll of the lighthouse and the beach. I’ve had this footage for weeks. I know exactly what shots I want to use.
But I can’t focus. My mind keeps drifting back to yesterday. To the way Kiera looked when she got that text about the apartment, her whole face lighting up with hope and excitement. To how nervous she was walking up those stairs, fidgeting with her hair the way she does when she’s trying to hide how she’s feeling. To the questions I asked Martha while Kiera watched, her eyes wide.
And then the hug.
I close my eyes and I’m right back there, feeling the sudden weight of her in my arms, the way she pressed against me without hesitation. For those few seconds, all her walls were down. She was just happy, uninhibited, trusting. And the wayshe fit against me—like my arms were made specifically to hold her.
I wanted to freeze that moment. Memorize every detail. The floral scent of her shampoo. The warmth of her body. The way my heart kicked into overdrive the instant she touched me.
And then she pulled away, and I saw it in her eyes—that flash of awareness, maybe even fear. She felt it too, whatever this is between us. And it scared her enough to put the walls right back up.
