Chapter 41
HAILEY
“Mom! Dad!” Mallory’s smile was literally the brightest I’d ever seen it, and her eyes were twinkling like someone stuffed a bajillion stars in them. “This is the prince I told you about! Isn't he handsome?”
Yes . The thought was automatic, shooting past my brain filters like a bullet ricocheting off a metal wall.
He looked good . Devastatingly so. The black tuxedo fit him like it had been crafted specifically for his broad shoulders and lean frame, the crisp white shirt a stark contrast against his golden skin.
His blond hair had been styled back, though a few rebellious strands had already escaped to curl against his forehead.
Hell, he looked so good that it was hard to pretend not to notice, when all I could do was notice ; the formal wear elevated him from the hockey player I knew into something else entirely —something that made my pulse skitter erratically beneath my skin.
And I honestly didn’t know how to handle it.
So, I remained frozen in the doorway, my heart lodging somewhere between my throat and my sternum. The silk of my deep blue dress suddenly felt too tight, too constricting, as if it were squeezing all the oxygen from my lungs.
“It's wonderful to finally meet you,” Karen said, stepping into the room with a warm smile. “Mallory talks about you constantly.”
Lively let go of my sister’s hands, stepping forward to meet them with that easy grace that had always pissed me the hell off, but was now evoking an emotion so totally different that I didn’t even know what to do with myself.
“The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Hartley. Your daughter is an absolute delight to be around.” His voice was smooth, warm—the complete opposite of how he sounded when speaking to me these past weeks.
David extended his hand. “David Hartley. We’ve heard so much about you. Thank you for being such a good friend to our daughter.”
“Lively Summers, sir.” He shook his hand, that practiced charm sliding into place like a sheer mask. “It's been my privilege, truly.”
“And he's Hailey's partner too!” Mallory added, her eyes darting between us with a mischievous gleam. “He's the captain of the men's hockey team at Maplewood. They're working together now because their teams are sharing a rink.”
My chest tightened at her words, at the casual way she linked us together when everything between us had fractured into jagged, irreconcilable pieces.
David’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh? Summers? As in George and Marilyn Summers? The hospital directors?”
What? I blinked once. Twice. Five fucking times, as shock lanced through me. I mean, I knew his parents were doctors, but the hospital directors? The actual owners of the place that had become Mallory’s second home. I hadn’t known that.
Lively’s eyes found mine for a fraction of a second—so brief I might have imagined it—and I caught a flash of something like shame before he looked away.
“Yes, sir.” His voice came out careful, giving nothing away. “That's them.”
“Well, this is quite the honor then,” David continued, oblivious to the obvious discomfort wedged into the lines of his body.
I didn’t question how quickly I noticed it, either.
“Your parents have done remarkable work with this facility. The pediatric wing especially has made such strides under their leadership.”
Lively’s smile tightened almost imperceptibly. I fucking noticed that, too. “They’re very dedicated to their work.”
“They must be proud to have such a talented son,” Karen added, her tone warm. “Mallory tells us you're quite the hockey player.”
A shadow passed over his face, so quickly I almost missed it. “I do my best, ma'am.” He said.
“Look at you trying to be cool,” Mallory interjected, sticking her tongue out at Lively. “He’s amazing , Dad. The Rink Runners have won the NCAA Championships twice with him as captain. Right, Hailey?”
All eyes turned to me, and I felt heat creep up my neck. I hadn’t spoken a single word since entering the room, and now I was expected to... what? Praise him or something? Were they trying to kill me? Death by embarrassment?
“I mean… He’s… He’s dedicated,” Ugh. Why the hell was I stuttering? Stuttering just wasn’t what I did.
Heh, it’s what you do now. The thought was a molotov cocktail of bile that splattered along the walls of my mind and gave me no chance to dodge. Because it was true.
“Modest as always, Baleman,” he replied, his tone light but his eyes distant. Alien . The use of my last name, too—so formal, so impersonal, felt like a slap. “Speaking of dedication, I should probably get back to my parents. They're expecting me at the fundraiser.”
He was leaving. I could see it in the way he was already inching toward the door, in the careful way he was avoiding looking at me directly.
“Of course,” my father said. “We’ll see you there, I’m sure. We’re planning to bring Mallory down once she’s ready.”
“Looking forward to it.” Lively’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he gave Mallory a small bow that made her giggle. “Save me a dance, Princess?”
“You bet!” she beamed, her pale face glowing with delight. “And maybe one with Hailey too? I know she’s not gonna dance with anyone.”
My heart stuttered in my chest. That little imp. What the are you doing, Mallory? Stop it. Right now . Of course, I couldn’t say any of that out loud.
“I’m sure your sister has better things to do,” Lively responded smoothly, still not looking at me. “I wouldn't want to impose where I’m not wanted.”
The words were casual, but I felt them like a suckerpunch. And I wasn’t the only one. I could see it in the way David’s and Karen’s faces scrunched up in confusion, sharing glances.
“Excuse me,” Lively said, with a smile that I knew was strained at the edges because I’ve seen his smiles before and they did not look like that. “I really should go. It was lovely meeting you both, Mr. and Mrs. Hartley.”
As he turned to leave, something cracked inside me. It wasn’t anger. No. It was a fiery, savage thing I didn’t know how to quantify. My hands were clenched into tight fists, heart hammering against my ribs. I just knew that this was an emotion I couldn’t stomach for another second.
“I'll be right back,” I said, not waiting for a response before pushing through the door and following him out into the corridor.
“Summers!” The name tore from my throat, echoing off the sterile walls.
He paused maybe three feet down the corridor, shoulders going rigid.
For a moment, I thought he might keep walking.
But then he stopped, turning only halfway so I could see his profile.
And that was when I noticed his hand was covering the lower half of his face, cheeks burning red above his fingers.
“I mean, it’s not like I have to tell you everything, right?” The words came out defensive, sharp-edged.
I blinked, confusion throwing me off-balance. “What?”
“Aren’t you mad that I didn’t tell you about my parents?” He asked, his voice tight. “Isn't that why you followed me out here?”
Was that really what he thought? My fists clenched tighter, nails biting into my palms. “What? No!” The protest burst from me, incredulous. “Why should I care what you choose to tell me and what you don’t?” It wasn’t as if I told him everything about my life.
But, as soon as the words left my mouth, I knew they were the wrong ones. Horrifically, catastrophically wrong. I watched his expression shutter further, something cold and resigned settling in his eyes.
“Yeah,” he nodded quietly, turning back around so he faced away from me completely. “Why should you care? I'm an idiot for even thinking that.”
The mutter was barely audible, but it sliced through me like a blade. I opened my mouth, desperate to fix this, to say something— anything —that would undo the damage, but my brain was screaming at me: Why do you care? Because I couldn’t doubt it anymore that I did .
I really, really did.
Before I could form a coherent thought, though, Lively spoke again, his voice unnervingly calm.
“This hallway was where I saw you for the first time, you know?”
Huh? “What are you…?” I blurted, my brain scrambling to process this sudden switch.
“Then, you had the prettiest smile on your face,” he continued, and I couldn’t do anything but listen. “It was like seeing an angel in 4K.”
I sucked in a breath, eyes widening as pieces clicked into place with devastating clarity. The hospital. His volunteer work. The angel he’d mentioned that night in the woods at Blackwater Bay.
I’d thought it was Mallory. But it wasn’t. It was…all this time, he’d been talking about… me ?
“And I kept coming back here hoping to see you again but then, the next time I saw you was at school and…” He let out a small, humorless laugh.
“You took one look at me and hated my guts. I mean, not that I blame you for that; I was a complete jerk in freshman year. I guess I kind of knew you’d hate me before you ever saw me. ”
My entire body was frozen in place by words that rewrote everything I thought I knew. Because, most of all, those first words he’d said to me when I’d met him for the first time rang in my head now:
“Where’s that pretty smile?”
If…If he wasn’t just saying bullshit out of his ass, then that meant that when he’d said that then…he hadn’t meant it in the way I believed he’d meant it. He—
“And I still loved you anyway.” This admission was raw, like it’d been ripped from the back of his throat.
I just stood there, rooted to the spot, his words echoing through my chest cavity like a scream in an empty room.
And, before I could catch my breath, before I could process the implications of what he'd just revealed, before I could form a single coherent thought, he was walking away; strides long and purposeful, putting distance between us with every step.
“Hey!” I finally managed to call out, my voice echoing down the corridor with more force than I'd intended. "Lively!"
My legs propelled me forward before my brain could catch up, heartbeat a wild thunderstorm in my chest as I pursued him. I couldn't let him just walk away—not after dropping a bomb like that in my lap. Not after saying he...
He didn’t slow, but I caught up to him just before he turned the corner, my fingers wrapping around his forearm with enough force to stop him in his tracks.
The contact sent an electric current racing up my arm, and I immediately regretted the impulse, but I didn't let go.
"Wait," I said, my voice betraying me with a tremor I couldn't swallow down.
Lively whirled around so fast it knocked the breath from my lungs, his hand shooting out to grab me. I gasped, startled by the suddenness, my fingers loosening from his arm just as his grip clamped over mine with unshakable force.
“What are you—?” I started to say, but whatever else I might have said died in my throat as our eyes locked.
God, his face. Raw, unguarded, pure torture was carved across every line of him. The crimson stain across his cheeks had deepened to something almost fevered, and his eyes... those impossibly blue eyes now shimmered with unshed tears, vulnerable and raw in a way that made my pulse kick.
For a split second, I forgot how to breathe. And then, without warning, his mouth was on mine.
The kiss should have been rough, violent even, given how desperately he’d seized me.
But it wasn’t. The contrast between his grip—fingers digging into my waist with enough force to bruise—and the achingly tender press of his mouth against mine sent electricity crackling through every nerve ending.
His kiss was reverent, almost worshipful, a confession he didn’t dare speak aloud.
The heat of him, the closeness, the tenderness underneath all that urgency—it made my knees feel like water.
My heart stuttered, then roared alive, as heat bloomed low in my stomach, spreading like wildfire through my veins.
I should’ve shoved him away, demanded what the hell he thought he was doing—but logic didn’t exist in that moment. Not when every nerve ending in my body lit up in helpless response.
Everything I was in that moment narrowed to just his mouth on mine, his hands on my body, the small desperate sounds caught in the back of his throat.
But, as quickly as it began, he tore himself away.
"Fuck." He cursed sharply, stumbling back a step. His face was flame-red now, breathing ragged. "I'm sorry—I shouldn't have—that wasn't—"
Words fragmented and scattered between us as he backed away, hands raised like he was surrendering something precious.
"I'm so goddamn sorry, Hailey," he whispered brokenly.
And before I could blink once, he turned and bolted down the hall, disappearing around the corner like he couldn't get away from me fast enough.
I stood there, stunned, breath escaping like smoke from a damn exhaust pipe. What… What just…? What just happened?
Lively Summers just kissed you, that’s what.
The thought smashed against my reasoning with all the subtlety of a body check into the boards, leaving me mentally winded.
My brain turned strangely hollow, like someone had scooped out every coherent thought and replaced it with static.
The only clear signal cutting through: Lively Summers just kissed me.
And then bolted before I could even say anything.
Who the hell kissed a girl and just ran off? Lively Summers, that was who.
Ugh. Seriously. Why did he keep — ?
“Hailey?” Gina’s voice called from behind me then, breaking the thrall that Lively’s kiss had woven around me.