Page 95 of A Summer of Stars

—Rumor Has It

KIERAN AND Ifilled in the edges of a red Uno card again during theSaving Septemberpremiere, jotting down one-word answers to two-word questions. Favorite color? Lilac. Worst food? Beans. Favorite sport?Tennis obviously, he wrote, breaking our one-word pattern—in which I proceeded to snort.

Once the movie finished, Kieran and the cast accepted a standing ovation. After, he took my hand and whisked us out of the theater to the most vibrant corners of Cannes.

Everything was twinkling stars and warm waves splashing under boats in the harbor until we saw a woman in a white dress crossing the street with a group of friends wearing matching pink dresses, posing for a photographer. Realization spread across her face as she caught sight of Kieran.

“Youmustcome back to our reception. Please, this would be the wedding gift of a lifetime,” she begged, clutching his hand. Bridesmaids flanked her side.

He looked to me for an answer.

What was I going to say?No?

Sorry, ma’am, I actually have this allergic reaction where any time I see, say, or hear the word “wedding,” I instantly burst into tears!

We were ushered up a set of cobblestone steps and into a courtyard where a small bar was set up and a few musicians played for dozens of guests.

Many of whom surrounded Kieran instantly.

I blamed him for this.

“Two brandies, please—oh, do you happen to have Kirsch? That would be perfect, thank you.” One brandy for having to watch Kieran’s hand around Eliza Whitfield’s waist on the red carpet earlier, then pining over and making out with her for two hours in the film. (So much for dying to seeSaving September.) And a second brandy for having to witness this wedding.

This is what I got for trying to let loose. I listened to Cecilia and Deidra, and I’ve ended up at a wedding.

The middle of my back pressed into the wooden bar top. A group of women were glued to his side. Maybe it would be nice to help him. But seeing the bride and groom nearby made my eyes well like an overflowing dam.

Staring at the bride, I was reliving a recurring nightmare I had spent the past year trying to suppress. I had worn a white dress just like that: midi length with a straight neckline and lace overlay. Jeremiah had told me I looked like a lily.

“I want to put you in a vase and look at you all day. I can’t believe you’re my wife now,” he had said. I wore it until the sun rose the next morning. I never wanted to take it off.

“Wooo!”

My focus was pulled back to the crowd. A woman was running her hands up and down Kieran’s chest like she was about to rip hisshirt off and make him the poster boy for airport romance book covers. His eyes were shining with uncomfortable shock.

Time to intervene.

I spun around, downed my two—well-deserved—drinks, and made my way to the center of the courtyard. Lights were hung above on wrought iron awnings. It set the stage for the oceanic view behind everyone.

Kieran stood out, of course. His jacket was off, highlighting the shape of his shoulders.

“Do you mind if I cut in?” I asked once I reached them.

They spun in surprise. Her hands fell as she looked me up and down. But Kieran didn’t wait for her answer.

“Are you asking to dance with me, Aldridge?” He smirked. It made my heart beat at an uncomfortable rate as if I were racing across the court, trying to fight time. I wanted to press my hand against my chest to make it stop.

“Maybe I am.” I lifted my chin.

“Thought you’d never ask.” He took my hand and backed up a few steps before tugging me forward. A tornado of rain-soaked leaves swirled in my stomach as he spun me, my back hitting his chest. His hand was on my hip and his cheek against my temple.

“You’re welcome,” I commented.

“For?”

I removed myself from his chest and turned, putting his hand on my waist and the other in my palm.

“Saving you!”