“Dad!”

“Her words, not mine. Blame Mom.”

“But you looked into what?” I prompt.

He answers with, “West Yorkshire.”

I wrinkle my nose. “West Yorkshire?”

“That’s where the fellow you’re overly interested in hails from. Leeds, West Yorkshire. England.”

My gaze flies to Richmond, who’s walking ahead of us. He’s actually British? I can’t even.

“Thanks for telling me,” I say glumly. “Love you.”

When we reach the front door, Richmond stops me from exiting by saying, “Summer, a word?”

Sum-ah. Dammit. I hate being wrong.

“I’ll wait in the car,” Nora says.

I nod. “I’ll only be a minute.” I wait until she’s out of earshot before crossing my arms. “What do you want?”

“To apologize.” There’s genuine remorse in his eyes. “I’ve been behaving like a bit of a wanker, haven’t I?”

“Just a bit,” I say flatly.

“I must confess—I went into our relationship with a hefty bias.”

“You think?”

He gives me a look. “May I continue?”

“Sorry.”

“I didn’t grow up with money, Summer. I worked myself to the bone in order to attend university, as I wasn’t offered a scholarship. Over the years, I suppose I developed resentment toward people like you, the ones who come from wealthy families that can pull strings for them. I didn’t get into my first choice uni. Nobody called in a favor for me.” He hangs his head. “I’m sorry for my behavior. And I’m especially sorry because you tried to warn me about Professor Laurie. You tried to tell me how uncomfortable he made you, and I dismissed those concerns.”

“Yes. You did.” I can feel the disapproval radiating from my pores.

“And you have no idea how deeply I regret that. It’s ghastly enough, what Ms. Ridgeway endured tonight. But if something had happened to you because I’d ignored your claims?” He shudders. “I’m terribly sorry.”

I exhale. “It’s done now. And I hope that in the future, if a student comes to you with these kinds of concerns, you actually heed them.”

“I will. I promise. And I also promise to be a little friendlier during our meetings.” He chuckles dryly. “But please, don’t expect me to transform into a warm and fuzzy creature overnight. I am British, after all.”

34

Fitz

I’ve been reduced to a basket case by the time I hear the key turn in the lock. It’s nearly midnight. I left the party the moment Summer called to tell me what happened to Nora and that they were on their way to see the dean. I would’ve hopped in my car and met her there, but she insisted I stay home. Something about too many cooks in the kitchen.

Apparently, her father attended the meeting via speakerphone, which is a relief. I feel better knowing someone close to Summer was there to support her.

Now I dive off the couch and take her in my arms before she can even shut the front door. “I’m so glad you’re back,” I groan. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she assures me.

“How’s Nora?” I ask as Summer unbuttons her coat.

“She’s fine too. I karate chopped the bastard before he could do any real harm.”

I take the coat from her cold hands and hang it up for her. “And the dean?”

“He said he’d take care of it.”

“He freaking better. There’s still no chance of Nora going to the cops, though?”

“Even my dad said there’s no point.” Summer runs both hands through her blonde hair. “I hate this world we live in, Fitzy, where shitty people can get away with shitty things.”

“I know,” I say soberly. Shitty things do happen, but I’m confident Erik Laurie will face real consequences.

Only last week I was reading online about three professors from major institutions who had been fired in the last month alone. One of them had even had tenure. Sexual harassment is a huge topic in the news these days—no way will Briar let something as serious as this slide.

I press my face to Summer’s neck and breathe in my favorite scent on earth. Chanel No. 5. The only scent a lady should ever own, someone told me once. “I was worried when you told me what happened.”

“I was worried when I saw it happen.” She takes my hand and leads me toward the stairs. “Let’s not talk about it anymore. I just want to take a hot shower, and then get in bed and catch up on The Bachelor.”

My mouth tips up in a wry grin. I never dreamed I’d fall for a girl who’s into cheesy reality shows. Ever.

But luckily, that’s just one facet to Summer Heyward-Di Laurentis.

There is a plethora of other sides to her. The side that teases her older brothers. The side that adores her parents. The side that instantly becomes best friends with people, because she goes into every relationship with a full plate of trust. Other people remain guarded when they meet new people, but not Summer. Summer is trusting and open.

And she’s smart, in spite of her writing difficulties. Her vocabulary rivals mine. She listens to longwinded fantasy tomes on audiobook and actually discusses them with me. I’ve never had a girlfriend who could sit there and dissect Sir Nornan’s journey to the Glass Forest and recite all the reasons he was stupid to use the angel’s sword, prematurely revealing its existence to the cave dwellers that protect the Great Beyond.

So yes, Summer is everything.

She’s my muse. My sketches of her are already being transferred onto my computer to create the assets for the new video game I’m designing.

She’s my laughter, because everything she says makes me laugh.

She’s my trigger, because holy shit do we scream at each other sometimes. I never knew I was capable of expressing raw emotion, didn’t think I even had it in me.

She’s my desire, because I can’t take a step without wanting to be inside her.

But most of all, she’s my heart.

“I love you,” I tell her as we walk down the hall to my room.

“Love you too,” she whispers.

Her gaze flickers briefly to Hunter’s door.

“He’s not home,” I murmur, and I know we’re both thinking about how much we hate that our roommate is still pissed at us.

But Hunter will get over it. And if he doesn’t, then I’ll take that L. With a heavy heart, of course, but I’ve gained something I know can heal the pain of the loss. I’ve gained Summer.

For the first time ever, I truly feel like I’m living life instead of hiding in the shadows. My folks can keep hating each other, but the next time one of them calls to spew their hatred, I’ll make it clear that I don’t want that negativity poisoning my life anymore. Even if it means hanging up the phone. Hell, I had no qualms hanging up on a billionaire earlier.

When I was waiting for Summer to come home from the dean’s house, I did take the time to think about Kamal’s job offer. And I’ve concluded that maybe he does need someone like me at Orcus Games. Someone who won’t kiss his ass. Someone who’ll tell him when he’s being a jackass. So I’m toying with the offer, but I’ll decide later.