She grabs her phone and her jacket with an apologetic smile before heading toward the exit.
I watch her leave, pushing through the door into the cold, shoulders hunched against the wind, phone already pressed to her ear.
I still can’t look away when Volk mutters, “You’re fucked, King,” from beside me. When I turn, he’s holding out a fresh beer.
“What?”
He doesn’t elaborate. Just takes a slow drink.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, but who am I kidding?
“Yes, you do.”
Fox leans across the table. “What are we talking about?”
“Nothing,” I blurt, and thankfully, Volk stays quiet, turning his attention to the game on the TV above the bar.
You’re fucked.
He’s right. I know he’s right.
Every minute I spend with Summer, every smile, every laugh, every moment like this, where she seamlessly becomes part of my world—it’s all just making it harder.
Because in140 days, she’ll be gone.
And Iwon’task her to stay.
I drain the rest of my beer and signal the server for water.
Through the window, Summer paces, one arm wrapped around herself. Even from here, I can tell something’s happening. The way she’s moving. The energy in her posture.
Good news or bad news, I can’t tell.
But seeing her out there feels like looking at the future. Her chasing her dreams. Me watching from a distance.
Volk is right.
I’m fucked.
TWENTY
The cold airslaps me as soon as I step outside, but I barely feel it.
“Kendra?”
She squeals, and I pull the phone from my ear.
“Cash Walker agreed to do a duet with you!”
“Cash… Walker…” My brain stalls.
“Wants to record a duet with you!” she repeats. “His team called an hour ago. This is what I’ve been working on. I didn’t want to get your hopes up before—but it’s happening!”
I’m barely able to think, let alone form words.
“This is huge,” Kendra continues. “Like,career-changinghuge.”
Cash Walker.
