Cam laughed once, low and tired. “I’ll do my best.”
He gave me a look before leaving—a quiet kind of look, one that said take care of him, even if he didn’t say the words aloud.
And then it was just us.
I turned toward him, searching his face. His bruises had started to swell, coloring his cheekbone and jaw, and his lip was cracked in the corner. But none of that dulled the way he looked at me.
There was no apology in his eyes.
Just a fierce, unwavering clarity.
“You really meant it,” I said softly. “What you said in there.”
He nodded once. “Every word.”
We walked out together, fingers laced, the sun glaring like it had something to prove.
The moment the doors swung open, the buzz hit me first—low and electric. Then came the shouts, the camera flashes, the swell of bodies closing in.
Paparazzi.
Great.
Kieren tightened his grip on my hand, his thumb brushing across my knuckles like a silent message: I’ve got you.
I didn’t realize how tense I was until that small touch unraveled some of it.
We didn’t break stride, didn’t flinch, just kept walking down the concrete steps like we were on a red carpet neither of us had asked for. I kept my chin high, though my pulse was thudding in my ears.
“Kieren! Any comments on the Ryder Blake incident?”
“What really happened between you and Daphne?”
“Are you leaving the MLS?”
“Is it true you threw the first punch because he insulted your girlfriend?”
Girlfriend.
I shouldn’t have liked how that sounded, but I did.
Kieren didn’t stop, but he did glance toward the cameras with that lazy, cocky grin he wore like a second skin.
“Oh, is that what they’re calling it now?” he called out. “An incident?”
A few photographers laughed.
Another reporter shoved a mic closer. “Was it true Ryder said something about Daphne that pushed you over the edge?”
Kieren shrugged. “Ryder says a lot of things. Most of them sound better coming from the garbage disposal.”
Laughter again—this time from a cluster of younger paparazzi who clearly weren’t expecting a quote that sassy this early in the day.
The older ones stayed focused. “You could be facing suspension. Is it worth it?”
Kieren stopped walking. Just for a second. Right at the base of the stairs, where the light hit his jaw and made the bruises on his face look even darker.
He looked down at me. And then back up.
