Page 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Austin

I smiled as I listened to Kane’s excited voice notes about his chemistry read, chuckling to myself as he rehashed all the details. It was pretty much a play-by-play for the entire session, but I didn’t mind.

For one, it gave me an excuse to stop editing and lounge on my office sofa in the sunshine like an overgrown cat. And two, because Kane’s excitement was adorable as fuck. It was like listening to an overgrown puppy.

I wondered if he’d been bouncing in circles while he spoke too.

The revelation that his scene partner was Henry Lu had made me whistle in surprise because he was a big fucking name. Almost too big to be attached to a project like Llewelyn . Although if I’d done as many superhero films as him over the past few years, I’d want a fucking break as well.

Having Henry attached was a good sign, though, because it meant the project was being taken seriously, but it did worry me they’d have spent all their budget on him.

Kane and I had never talked about money—we’d had no reason to—so I had no idea what he usually got for projects. He had a good agent, though, so it wasn’t like he didn’t have someone to bat for him, but having a background like his had pros and cons to it and he’d muttered offhandedly once or twice about people not taking him seriously for having grown up in a boy band.

I’d never said anything, but I agreed. Getting serious projects was going to be harder for him because casting directors and executives would only see a pretty face, hot body, and the audience dollars they’d get from slapping his face on all the marketing.

Still, I was really fucking proud of him for making it this far with Llewelyn. I just hoped everyone else could see what I saw: a dedicated, passionate, gorgeous man who’d work his fucking arse off.

When Kane had finished speaking and no more messages had popped up, I tapped the microphone button to leave my own response because I couldn’t be bothered to type everything out.

“Hey, sweetheart, it sounds like you kicked ass today and I’m so proud of you. It’s really cool they’ve got Henry attached to this. I’ve not met him either but I’ve heard he’s a nice guy. And a huge bloody flirt. But that’s also, like, half my personality, so I’m not gonna say anything against him because then I’d be a fucking hypocrite.” I stretched out on the sofa and smiled up at the ceiling, wishing Kane was here so we could have this conversation in person.

Although… it wasn’t as if that’d be too difficult to arrange. All one of us would have to do was get on a train.

“Also, if Henry thinks there’s a good chance you’ll get it, then that’s seriously fucking awesome. We should celebrate. What are you doing tomorrow? You should come up to York for a few days. We can go out to dinner and chill and shit—it’ll be fun. Let me know. Fuck, you can even come up today if you want. I’m not doing anything except editing.” My heart did a funny flip as I spoke, something clenching in my chest. I didn’t know if it was guilt over blowing off my work or something else. I guessed I’d never sought out Kane’s company like this.

Even more recently when we’d hung out at his house for the day, we’d started with fucking. The whole situation had been sex first. And what I was suggesting wasn’t…

We could still fuck, and probably would, but this wasn’t a “let’s fuck and maybe get food after” situation, this was “travel two-hundred odd miles to come and hang out with me.”

Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t have suggested it at all.

I wasn’t good at this shit.

Casual sex was one thing but anything else was completely alien to me. I mean, I’d had relationships but not good ones. Or long-lasting ones. Not that I was thinking about a relationship with Kane—we were only friends who fucked. And even the whole being friends thing felt new despite the fact we probably had been for years.

Maybe that was the problem; Kane and I had so much baggage attached to us as a pair.

We’d been teenagers together, trapped in the fucked-up world of child stardom and using each other as a means of escape. Then we’d grown up and moved on to banter-filled fucking with a side of strange animosity, biting snark, and… maybe something akin to jealousy. Although over what I had no idea.

And in the past few months we’d changed again. We still playfully sniped at each other, we fucked as hard as ever, but there was a new side to our relationship too… a friendliness and this gentle acknowledgement of our past. We’d opened up to each other a little, letting each other see things we’d kept hidden for years.

It was like we’d spent all our time together in one room and suddenly realised there was a door in the corner, behind which lay a whole castle and gardens for us to explore.

I glanced down at my phone and realised I’d sent the message. Kane had seen it too. And according to WhatsApp, he was now tapping out a response.

Too nervous to sit and wait for my doom, I swung my legs off the sofa and pottered downstairs to the kitchen. I put my phone on the counter, rummaged in the cupboard for a glass, and filled it with water. As I sipped it slowly, I tried to convince myself that if Kane didn’t want to come, it wasn’t because of me. He was fucking Jude Kane—he’d have better things to do than run off to see me. Fuck, his diary would be filled up months in advance.

I glanced down at the screen and saw two new messages had popped up.

Kane

Sounds fun! Send me your address and I’ll come up in the morning. Just let me know what time works for you and I’ll be there.

Kane

And if we’re celebrating, can there be cake?

Reading them made my chest swell with joy, like that moment on a rollercoaster right before the drop when everything was amazing and terrifying and hilarious all at once.

I didn’t know what that said about me, but I didn’t need to.

Kane was coming to see me.

It was only half ten the next morning when Kane messaged me to say he was nearly at my house. I frowned because what fucking time had he gotten up to get to York for half ten? It was over two and a half hours on the train.

Except, I realised as I hurried downstairs to do a frantic last bit of tidying, Kane probably hadn’t taken the fucking train because he was sodding Jude Kane and would get mobbed as soon as he set foot in the station. Then I’d never have gotten to see him because he’d have ended up trapped there by hundreds of fans all clamouring for him to sign shit and take selfies.

I straightened the cushions on the sofa and threw the few bits of rubbish lying around into the bin before clearing the drainer next to the sink. At least I’d done the washing up last night so there weren’t several days of dirty plates and mugs sitting on the side.

I’d managed to get Kane cake too because I’d dragged my butt out of bed before eight to get to the little artisan bakery down the road as soon as it opened. The place was only tiny, and at the weekend it usually had a queue around the block from the minute they opened the door. And even though it was only Wednesday today, I didn’t want them to sell out of anything before I got a chance to raid it.

They hadn’t had any slices of cake but I had come back with a large sourdough loaf, two slices of lemon meringue pie, some chocolate and peanut butter morning buns, and some huge slabs of chocolate chip shortbread. And even though that’d probably be enough, I’d still found myself rushing in the other direction to hit M&S and grab a Colin the Caterpillar cake, because it just wasn’t a celebration without one.

There was a sharp knock at the door as I finished stacking plates in the cupboard, startling me for a second. My heart leapt, racing wildly as I headed for the door, wishing I’d had more to drink because my mouth was suddenly very dry.

I pulled it open and almost put my hand on my chest to stop my heart from bursting out of it.

Kane was standing on the doorstep, bathed in bright sunlight. He was wearing a simple white T-shirt and jeans with an old leather jacket thrown on over the top and a pair of large sunglasses, but something about the way he wore everything made him look like he’d walked off a runway. There was a small suitcase by his feet and a blue satchel over his shoulder, and behind him I could see a smart black town car parked.

“Hey,” I said, shooting him my best attempt at an easy smile. My goddamn heart needed to chill the fuck out before it exploded. It was only fucking Kane. “You made it.” I stepped back for him to come in and he turned and waved to the driver, who I assumed had been waiting in case they’d turned up at totally the wrong place. “What fucking time did you set off this morning?”

“Oh, not that early,” Kane said as he walked inside, taking in all the details of the tiled hallway as he put his bags down and unlaced his boots. “I got a flight at nine.”

“A flight?” I bit back a laugh. “You got a fucking private jet from London?”

“No,” he said quietly, almost looking a bit sheepish. “It was a helicopter.”

I snorted and shook my head. “Of course it fucking was.”

“Well, I couldn’t exactly walk into Kings Cross and buy a ticket!”

“Not unless you wanted to make the breakfast news,” I said with a wry smile. This was better. This was easy . This was just the two of us together like we always were. I leant in and kissed him quickly, because I missed that pretty mouth of his. “I’m glad you made it, but I’m still not letting you live this down, kitten.”

“How else was I supposed to get here?” he asked, nudging my nose with his and kissing me again. “Grow wings?”

“Drive, dumbass.”

“I don’t own a car.”

“You could have hired one! You hired a fucking helicopter.”

“But it’s like a five- or six-hour drive,” Kane said incredulously. “Why would I do that?”

“You’re ridiculous,” I said. “But it’s cute.”

“Oh please, like you never used a private jet or a helicopter when you were in acting?”

I shrugged. “Maybe, but if I did it wasn’t my choice. I stopped acting when I was twenty, remember?”

He laughed. “Yeah, because you discovered sex.”

“Hey! I discovered sex way before then. And so did you.” I winked at him, my chest purring when he flushed. I wondered if he was remembering the first time we’d fucked. “By the way, I have a surprise for you.”

“Yeah? Am I going to like it?” he asked, grinning at me as I turned and beckoned him towards the kitchen. It was at the back of the house, overlooking the small garden, and one of my favourite rooms with deep green cupboards, lighter green and white tiles, and swirled marble countertops. There were a few pops of colour with my orange coffee machine and yellow kettle and toaster, and the bright prints of cocktails on the walls.

I’d laid out my hoard of baked goods, including Colin the Caterpillar, on the kitchen island and gestured to them as we walked in. “You said you wanted cake so… ta-da.”

“Oh my God,” Kane said, a burst of joyous laughter bubbling out of him. He threw his arms around my shoulders and kissed me before walking over to them. “Seriously? Is this just for us?”

“Yeah, who the fuck else would it be for?”

“It’s amazing,” he said as he bent over slightly to examine them, a wondrous smile on his face. Jesus, this man was so fucking adorable it was going to kill me. “You got a caterpillar cake! I remember having these at so many birthday parties. They were the shit.”

“They still are,” I said, grabbing a small knife out of the block and handing it to him. “Why don’t you cut some and I’ll flick the kettle on. Then you can have a tour if you want.”

“A tour?”

“Yeah, I figure you’re nosy and you want to look round. This one is mine. Then next door is the studio. We can look in both if you want.” I’d mentioned the whole two-house setup to him last week when I’d been at his. It was also when I’d found out that Kane didn’t drink coffee. Fucking weirdo.

“Sounds good,” he said as he began to cut some large slices of cake. “Any plans for the rest of the day?”

“Not really.” I shrugged. “I booked us a table for dinner—don’t worry, it’s a small local place and they’re gonna find us somewhere in the back where we won’t be disturbed—but apart from that I thought we could just chill?”

I wondered for a second if I should have thought of more, but Kane was still smiling as he picked up a piece of cake and handed a second to me.

“Sounds fucking perfect, babe.”