Page 37 of A Summer of Stars

Tonight, he was surprised to find me awake and opening the car door before he had even closed his.

“Thank you, Craig. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I smiled, stepping onto the sidewalk.

“All right, Ms. Luna. Have a good rest of your night now,” he said with a wrinkle of concern on his forehead, and a hand on his round belly.

“You too.” I waved goodbye and walked up my front steps. The street was blanketed in stars and lamplit curtains. The only sound this far outside the city was the sound of my heels, and the neighbor’s cat in the window.

My mind was clouded with noise, though. The hollers when I had arrived. Kieran’s burning stare from across the carpet. Kieran asking me to dance. Kieran touching me. Kieran asking me questions like an acquaintance. Kieran clutching my hip in front of the paparazzi as if he understood.

Tonight was too much. The thoughts were breaking a barrier in my head and spilling out of my ears.

I peeled my hand off the railing and opened the door.

The cold hardwood of the foyer soothed my feet. My dress fell to the ground with its own weighty grunt, the gold belt smacking the floor. I rubbed my temples, trying to soothe my mind.

Dealing with press was one thing. I could avoid interviews. Pretend I didn’t hear photographers. Bypass the red carpet. Those things could be controlled.

But Kieran… I couldn’t control that. I couldn’t control when he argued with me or dictate when we got along. I had no understanding of why his deep blue eyes bored into me with those long, full stares, only for him to remind me moments later of how inconvenient it was to watch me play tennis.

I didn’t have time for this. Soon I’d be flying to London for Wimbledon, and then I was in Europe for two months.

A year ago, I would’ve been dancing around my London flat withNotting Hillplaying on the TV in the background while Kelsey and I picked my tournament outfits.

Wimbledon used to have a section of my heart the same way a mother’s heart belonged to her children. Now there was a throbbing gap left.

I’d be stepping foot into a country that was no longer mine to call home.

England belonged to Jeremiah.

He was England’s crown jewel of tennis, ranked number one in the world.

And the person who every tennis fan believed was to blame for his six-month break was me.

I couldn’t do anything to change their perception of me inrelation to him. I could date Kieran and try to repair my image, but they’d always believe I was the reason for Britain’s best tennis player taking a break and losing his edge.

Photos of me and Kieran wereeverywhere.

They spanned every magazine, social platform, and talk show. Every tilt of Kieran’s head, breath from my mouth, and repositioning of our hands was caught on camera. There were several close-ups of our intertwined fingers and the proximity in which I kept our conjoined hands near my hip.

He was a gem in his black suit.

I shook my head trying to forget it.

I gripped the tennis racket, thwacking the ball across the court as Felix shouted out commands. Cecilia, with her dirty blond hair stuffed into a bun, sat on the bench, a stuffed tote bag from college at her side. God only knew what was in there. Never underestimate a woman with a large bag. Especially one in charge of screening your calls.

Ugh.I grunted as the next ball made contact. Again, and again, and again.

“Water!” Felix shouted.

I let my arm go limp, jogging over to the bench for a drink.

“You’re pushing yourself,” Cecilia commented. I nodded with the water bottle pressed against my lips. I let it spill down my chin and neck. “More than usual,” she said, her tone becoming suspicious. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone get under your skin so much before.”

I closed the bottle. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about.” She raised her eyebrows.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I shouted, jogging back onto the court.