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I don’t need to press him for what’s wrong. I just wait, soothing him with my touch, until he mumbles, “I don’t know how much longer I’m going to stay at KMG.”

My fingers still for a moment. I don’t know why, but it takes me by surprise that of all the things that could be stressing Evan out, it would be work.

“You don’t want to work with your dad anymore?”

He scoffs. He’s lying with one cheek propped on his crossed arms, strands of hair falling over his eyes, which he doesn’t bother pushing away.

“I’m not working with my dad, Sophie. I’m doing the opposite. Working as far from him as possible.”

I didn’t know this. All along, I imagined Evan working near his dad’s office, given pointless, easy tasks that make him look important without requiring any effort from him. Just a rich kid riding on his father’s coattails while he waits to be handed the crown and sceptre to the empire sprawling at his feet.

But this couldn’t be further from the truth. For the first time, Evan actually explains to me what’s been going on since he started at KMG. He’s hesitant at first, cheeks flushed a high pink, but then the words start flowing out of him like a broken dam. He tells me about his rocky start in Operations, how it was supposed to teach him the basics of the company, give him a foundation.

“So my dad pulled me out before I could do any more damage, and now I’m in Corporate Partnerships, which is easier but somehow so much worse. I pretend like I know what the hell I’m doing, but I don’t. I never do. Because I’m not actually good at anything.”

“You are,” I say softly, but he shakes his head.

“Come on, Sophie. You know I’m not. And I know it’s my fault I never bothered to learn.” He sighs, drops his forehead on his arms, his voice coming out muffled. “The truth is Idon’tbelong there. I didn’t work and earn my way in. I’m not clever like you. I’m not ambitious. My dad got me in, and I’m not even capable of doing something with the opportunity.”

His words tug at something in my chest, a deep ache of empathy. Evan has always seemed so sure of himself, so unshakeable. A laughing, golden idol, all sun-kissed skin and athletic prowess and easy charm. To hear him admit his own inadequacy is startling, humbling, almost.

I never imagined he and I would share a feeling so similar, and in this moment, all I want is to be the person he can lean on, just like he was there for me last time.

“Why do you think you’re not clever?” I ask. “You went to Spearcrest. You got your qualifications, you were captain of the rugby team—”

“I only went to Spearcrest because my mother made acharitable donationto renovate the library,” he cuts me off. “None of it was me, Sophie. It’s always been other people pushing me. My parents, teachers—you.”

I push myself up on my elbow, looking down at him. He’s still facing away, face half-hidden by his arms, but I can see the straining line of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders.

“Evan,” I say, my voice firmer now. “Just because something was handed to you doesn’t mean you can’t earn it after the fact. So what if people at work think you’re just the boss’s kid? That’s their problem, not yours. Aren’t you the one who told me to not give a fuck what people think?” He huffs, but I continue. “If you’re struggling, fine. So what?Everyonestruggles, and the more you care, the more you struggle. Struggling doesn’t make you a failure, but giving up just because it’s hard will.”

He doesn’t say anything, but he’s turned his head, blue eyes fixed on me through strands of golden hair.

“Remember what you said to me last time? That I kept going because I wanted to prove to everyone—and to myself—that I deserved to be here. You think that’s easy? It’s not. It’s exhausting, and it’s lonely, and it’s terrifying. I’ve never felt so scared or sad in my life. But you were right, Iamtoo good to give up, but Evan, so areyou.”

His head lifts by a fraction, eyes widening in surprise.

“You don’t even see it, but you have so many great qualities. You’re charming, you’re magnetic. Everyone in Spearcrestwanted to be around you, even Luca, and I’m pretty sure Luca’s never felt a real emotion in his life. Even your teachers liked you, and you didn’t even pay attention in their classes. People are drawn to you, they want to be around you because it makes them feel good to have your attention. Do you know how invaluable that is?”

His mouth falls open, soft and pink, almost vulnerable. I have the urge to close the space between us and claim that gorgeous mouth in a kiss, but I don’t. I keep going.

“And you’re not stupid: you’re quick. Do you remember our tutoring sessions? I used to think you were failing because you didn’t get it, but the moment you started paying attention, you picked things up immediately. You’re a fast learner—when you try. You’re just not used to trying because guys like you think trying is lame.”

He frowns and finally interrupts me.

“I don’t think trying is lame.”

“Yes, you do. You think everything should be effortless and cool. You think that pouring your heart and soul into a task makes you a loser. That’s why you and your friends never achieved anything in Spearcrest.”

“What about Zachary?”

I wave a hand. “He doesn’t count.”

“What about you?” He raises himself up on his elbows to glare up at me. “You cared more than anybody I’d ever met, and I was obsessed with you.”

“But you thought I was a loser.”

“I thought you were—” He stops, shaking his head almost in disbelief. “Sophie, I thought you were fuckingdivine. I liked that you care. I liked that you were a prefect, I liked your little clipboard and all your fancy pins. I found it unbearably fascinating, how hard you worked, how much you tried.”