Guilt settled heavily in my chest. "I'm sorry."
Kieran looked up immediately. "For what?"
I gestured vaguely toward the phones. "For this."
His gaze softened slightly. "You didn't take the pictures."
"No," I said quietly. "But they're here because of me."
He set his phone down on the counter and folded his arms across his chest. "I knew you were famous."
A laugh escaped me. "I don't think you did."
That earned the smallest hint of a smile. "You know what I mean. I knew there would be attention. I just didn't realize it would happen this fast."
Neither had I. Or maybe I had and simply hadn't wanted to think about it. The truth was that I'd spent the last few days operating on instinct. Coming out. Responding to Noah. Calling Kieran. Taking him on a date.
For the first time in years, I'd stopped overthinking every decision and simply followed what felt right.
Now reality was catching up.
My gaze drifted toward the article still open on my phone. The photographs themselves weren't particularly revealing. Nobody had caught us kissing. Nobody had photographed us through windows.
"They'll get bored eventually," I said.
Kieran raised an eyebrow. The look contained enough skepticism to make me wince.
"Okay," I admitted. "They'll probably get distracted by something else eventually."
"That's not exactly reassuring."
"No."
A reluctant smile tugged at his mouth despite himself. It wasn't much, but it was progress.
I stepped closer and rested my hip against the counter beside him. Close enough that my arm brushed his shoulder. Close enough to remind both of us that the headlines weren't the entire story.
My phone began ringing again.
I glanced at the screen and immediately felt some of the tension leave my shoulders. A small smile tugged at my mouth as I accepted the call. "Good morning, Mom."
"Is it?" she asked dryly.
My gaze drifted to Kieran. He was standing at the kitchen island wearing one of my T-shirts and looking entirely too good for seven in the morning.
A laugh escaped me.
"Actually, yeah," I said. "Considering everything? It's a pretty good morning."
That earned me an indignant huff from somewhere in the background, which almost certainly belonged to my father.
"We've been trying to call you. You should answer your phone."
"That's rich coming from the woman who ignores texts for three days."
Mom immediately launched into an update about breakfast, a disagreement she'd had with one of the nurses regarding crossword puzzle difficulty levels, and a detailed account of my father's latest attempt to convince everyone that pudding counted as a vegetable.
Then her voice softened slightly. "How are you doing, sweetheart?"
