When I open my eyes, River’s jaw is clenched so tight I can see the muscle jumping. His eyes have gone dark, intense in a way I haven’t seen before.
“I want to find him,” he says, and his voice is rough with barely contained anger. “I want to find that piece of—” He stops himself, takes a breath. “I want to pound him into the pavement for what he did to you. The thought of anyone treating you like that, using you like that—” His hand tightens on mine. “It makes me so angry I can barely see straight.”
Something inside me shifts at those words. Loosens. Because no one has ever been angry on my behalf before. No one fought for me. No one defended me.
But River is furious. For me. Because of what happened to me.
“When the rumor got out,” I whisper, “everyone blamed me. Said I should have seen it coming. That I was an idiot for falling for his lines. That I deserved what I got.” My voice breaks again. “Even my parents. Especially my parents. They didn’t defend me or protect me or try to help. They just... threw me away.”
“That’s not—” River’s voice cracks. “Kiera, that’s not okay. None of that is okay.”
“I know.” The words come out as a sob. “But I didn’t have anywhere to go. I came here to find Kiki, but I was too ashamed to go to her right away. I saw her with Tobias and Skyler, and they looked so happy, so perfect, and I couldn’t—I couldn’t ruin that by showing up and?—”
I can’t finish the sentence because I’m crying too hard. River doesn’t hesitate. He pulls me into his arms, and I don’t resist. I can’t. I’m too tired of being strong, too exhausted from holding everything together all the time. I curl up on his lap.
I cling to him, my fingers gripping his shirt, and he wraps his arms around me and just holds me. One hand strokes my hair, the other holds me secure against his chest, and he rocks us slowly back and forth while I fall apart.
“I broke into a church and slept in the basement,” I sob into his shirt. “I dug through garbage cans for food. I was so hungry and so scared and so alone, and I—I haven’t dealt with any of it. I just shoved it all down and pretended I was fine because I had to be fine. I had to prove I could survive on my own.”
“Oh, Kiera.” River’s voice is thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry you had to go through that alone.”
“I thought I deserved it,” I whisper. “Thought it was my punishment for being stupid enough to believe him. For trusting someone who didn’t deserve it.”
“No.” River pulls back just enough to look at me, his hands coming up to frame my face. His eyes are bright with unshed tears. “You didn’t deserve any of that. Not the bet, not the betrayal, not your parents kicking you out. None of it. Do you hear me?”
I nod, unable to speak, tears still streaming down my face.
“You trusted him,” he says fiercely. “You believed someone when they said they loved you. That doesn’t make you stupid or naive or deserving of what happened. It makes you human.”
He wipes my tears with his thumbs, so gentle it makes me want to cry harder.
“You’re not alone anymore,” he continues, his voice softer now. “You have Kiki. You have the Barrett family who care about you so much.”
Time slows as he stares at me. “And you have me.”
My breath catches. “River?—”
“I care about you, Kiera.” The words come out raw and honest. “I care about you so much it scares me sometimes. And I’m so thankful that you trusted me enough to tell me this. To let me see this part of you.”
I’m staring at him, at the sincerity in his eyes, at the way he’s looking at me like I’m something cherished instead of something broken. He’s still holding my face in his hands, his thumbs still gently stroking my cheeks, and I feel safer in this moment than I have in years.
Safer than I’ve felt since before everything fell apart.
And suddenly I know what I want. What I need.
I lean forward and press my lips to his.
For half a second, River goes completely still. Like he can’t believe this is happening. Like he’s afraid if he moves, I’ll disappear.
Then his hands slide from my face to cradle the back of my head, and he kisses me back.
It’s gentle. Tender. Nothing like what I imagined kissing River Stone would be like. There’s no urgency or demand, just this overwhelming softness that makes my chest ache. He kisses me like I’m fragile, like I’m precious, like he’s afraid of pushing too hard or taking too much.
One of his hands moves to my waist, pulling me closer, and I go willingly. I thread my fingers through his hair, and he makes this small sound in the back of his throat that makes warmth spread through my entire body.
This is what a kiss should feel like. Safe and wanted and chosen. Not pressured or coerced or part of some game. Just two people who care about each other, sharing something real.
River breaks the kiss first, pulling back to look at me. We’re both breathing hard, and I can feel his heart pounding beneath my hand on his chest.
