Page 23 of Lights, Camera, Love

I draw closer to him. My mouth almost grazes his jaw, and I notice a tiny patch of stubble he must have missed when he was shaving. The urge I feel to press my lips to the cute spot leaves me light-headed.

‘I can dance like no one’s watching, and I guarantee it’s a show you won’t want to miss,’ I whisper, directly quoting one of Jakob’s cheesy lines. Kye tips his forehead and laughs silently.

I bathe in the warm rush it gives me. Getting this guy to smile makes me feel like I’m mainlining dopamine.

Rafael’s departure steals our focus, and I regain my composure as Austin strides over to me and Kye. He sweeps an arm around me and tugs me towards him. ‘Hey there, girlfriend.’

‘Oh. Hey,’ I say, pulling back with a tentative smile. He’s kidding, right?

‘We should get started,’ Kye mumbles. His throat rises and falls as he swipes his thumb over his phone.

‘La Bomba’ by Ricky Martin—the classic Latin-pop track that Austin and I will dance to for the showcase—kicks in through the overhead speakers. Austin wiggles his elbows and hips to the catchy intro, looking not unlike a fish having a spasm.

‘Oh, this is gonna be interesting,’ Kye mutters, lining up to face the mirror. ‘Evie, let’s show Austin the basic step first. Ready, man? We’ll go super slow.’

‘ Si, signore ,’ Austin replies, evidently unaware he’s speaking Italian rather than Spanish. ‘This stuff isn’t rocket surgery, right?’

With a shake of his head, Kye begins to explain the basic step with impressive clarity. I slowly shift back and forth on my feet, helping demonstrate to Austin.

‘Bend your knees, and keep your steps small,’ Kye instructs. ‘Hold slightly on the four count and the eight count. So, it’s one, two, three—hold—five, six, seven—hold.’

‘Huh?’ Austin says.

‘Just keep going; copy what we’re doing, and you’ll get it,’ I encourage, still performing the steps at half-speed.

But twenty minutes later, Austin isn’t getting it . He can’t even find the beat, and I can sense the tension building between him and Kye. If Austin can’t grasp the basic step of salsa, how is he going to pull off the whole routine Rafael has choreographed—and in just a few weeks?

‘Dude, I’m never gonna get this,’ Austin whines. ‘How do you do this shit so easily?’

‘You have to relax, ’ Kye says. ‘Turn your feet out a little more and loosen your hips.’

Austin splits his legs into as wide a stance as possible and angles his feet out like a penguin’s.

I stifle a laugh while Kye heaves a sigh. ‘If you’re not gonna take this seriously, man—’

‘ You do it, then,’ Austin snaps, pacing backwards. ‘You and Evie show me what the hell this dance is meant to look like, and then I’ll decide whether I can do it. Otherwise, I’m just wasting everyone’s time.’

Kye’s jaw ticks as he punches his thumb into his phone to restart the song.

As soon as my hand lifts, Kye collects it in his grasp and pulls me so close that my thigh pushes between his firm legs.

His face falls into my neck as his warm breath washes over my skin.

My fingers contract into the ridges of muscle beneath his T-shirt, and his palm presses against the curve of my lower back. He smells so damn good .

He leads me into a cross-body inside turn chased by a hook turn, then covers my hand with his and glides our entwined fingers down my loose hair.

He lets go of my hand and his knuckles continue a path down my bare arm, while his other hand sits cinched around my waist. We step out and in again, and my legs slot snugly between his, our thighs locking and our hips swivelling tightly together.

I can feel everything between his legs. Oh .

‘Jesus, you guys are good,’ I hear Austin breathe. My pelvis moulds to Kye’s as he continues leading me through the routine, his palm sliding up my bare back beneath my jumper, pressing me closer. I clutch onto him even tighter.

A vision flashes through me that sends tendrils of heat curling around my spine.

I imagine kissing him.

Not gently either.

My eyes close as I conjure the image—the feeling —of kissing Kye all over his face and neck …

my body twisted up with his on a mattress …

my mouth sucking on that sweet, pouty bottom lip …

my tongue tangling with his … my teeth biting down on his earlobe before I kiss it better while he breathes a sigh of pleasure.

The song comes to an end and Kye immediately lets go of me, cold air slapping over my skin.

Austin stands watching us with his fingers brushing his chin. ‘Okay, well, that was fuckin’ hot,’ he says, his eyes moving from Kye to me. ‘And I can’t pull it off. Sorry. I guess we’re done here.’

He goes to walk out, but Kye lurches to grab his arm. ‘We’ll get you there, man. You know this would be awesome PR for the movie. You just have to be patient and relax your fucking hips. Come on, you can do this.’

Austin slumps. ‘ Fuuuck. Fine. But let’s keep our expectations in check, okay? Whatever filthy sex you guys just had is not in my skill set. Well, not on a dance floor, anyway.’ He flings a cheeky smirk at Kye.

‘No one’s expecting the celebrities to dance like they’re pros,’ I reassure Austin, avoiding Kye’s gaze as I reel from what his friend just said. Whatever filthy sex you guys just had . I almost have to knock myself out to get that image out of my head now.

We persist with the lesson for another hour, but all it yields is the certainty that I have a new contender for the nickname of Avalanche.

At one point Austin flings me so hard into a turn that I nearly get whiplash, and then crunches my toes with his sneakers when he lunges forward instead of stepping back. I hiss through my teeth and limp away while Kye mutters to me, ‘He’s not getting it. I don’t think it’s going to happen.’

‘ He can hear everything you’re saying,’ Austin quips while trailing after me. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he adds, grimacing at my foot.

‘It’s okay.’ I smile and give his perspiring arm a squeeze.

Austin turns back to Kye. ‘And he didn’t want to do this shit in the first place,’ he snaps. ‘ He told you he couldn’t do it. He is wasting his time.’

‘Can you stop talking in the third person?’ Kye gripes.

‘Let me have a chat with Rafael,’ I suggest, gnawing on my thumbnail. ‘Maybe we can figure something else out.’

‘Wait—I have an idea,’ Kye says as he crosses his arms. ‘What about, instead of dancing, Austin hosts the showcase? He could be its emcee. That way he still gets to appear on stage, so the showcase won’t miss out, and we won’t lose our publicity for Moving either.

’ He glances at me. ‘Or does Rafael want to host the event himself?’

‘God, no,’ I say. ‘Rafa hates public speaking.’

‘I love this idea,’ Austin says. ‘Anything to get me out of this dance torture.’

‘I’ll check with Rafa,’ I reply.

I head over to my bag and dig for my phone. Austin would make a brilliant emcee , I think, as long as he stays away from metaphors. I propose the idea to Rafa and, when he agrees, I put him on speaker.

‘We still need a partner for you, though, Evie,’ he says, his voice crackling through the phone. ‘You’re too good not to hit the stage.’

I smile as Kye leans in closer to the speaker. ‘Do you have any other celebrities who can do it?’ he asks.

‘Actually, I was thinking of you , Kye,’ Rafa says.

Kye’s brows lift. ‘I’m not a celebrity.’

‘No, but you’re one of the most natural dancers I’ve ever had in my class, and if you do the routine with Evie, I can add in some harder, more spectacular moves.’

‘I don’t know,’ Kye says, his cheeks flushing. He blinks down at the polished floor and then his gaze flickers to mine.

‘Please?’ I say softly.

I want to dance with you.

His eyes melt into a chocolate glaze. ‘Okay,’ he says.

My smile widens.

‘Fantastic,’ says Rafael. ‘If you guys can work on the existing routine first, I’ll sex it up with some fun stuff over the weekend and run you through the changes next week.’

‘Thanks, Rafa,’ I squeak. Sex it up?

After we end the call, Austin asks Kye if he can drop him off in town; he says he’s got someone to meet. This late? I wonder, but the thought goes no further than that.

Once we’re all outside with the studio locked up, I pull out my phone and tap open my Uber app.

‘You still don’t have a car?’ Kye asks, sounding surprised.

‘Nope. My mechanic got the part in, but it didn’t fix the problem. It’s a whole thing.’ I shake my head. ‘I don’t even want to know what all of it will cost. I should’ve just bought a new car.’

‘Come on; I’ll drive you,’ he says, nodding towards his Audi.

‘You sure? I’m over the other side of the Anzac Bridge.’

He throws me a look that says, Of course , and I smile and climb into the back seat.

After we drop Austin off in King’s Cross, outside a door he says leads to an underground bar, I move into the front seat and Kye pulls out onto the main road.

‘What do you feel like listening to?’ he asks, tapping on the dashboard screen.

I coil my hair into a top knot. ‘Oh, I’m good with anything.’

He pauses, then says, ‘Hey Siri, can you play “La Quiero a Morir” by Dark Latin Groove?’

I stare at Kye in disbelief. ‘You know DLG?’

‘Do I know DLG,’ he repeats sarcastically, shaking his head.

‘Wow.’

One corner of his mouth tilts up. ‘Why “wow”?’

‘They’re just really … old-school.’

He spins the wheel left, his brows lifting with amusement. ‘I think you’ve forgotten I’m an old man.’

I laugh, tapping my fingers against the armrest. ‘I actually have no idea how old you are.’ I steal a glance at Kye.

‘I’m thirty.’ He pauses. ‘How old are you?’

‘Twenty-seven.’

The conversation falls silent, yet it feels like the connection between us is expanding and multiplying at a confusingly brisk rate, making the air crackle.

‘So, you want to talk about today?’ he asks in a quiet voice as we approach the turnoff to the bridge.

‘What do you mean?’

‘This morning at Village Pictures. You looked like you’d been crying.’ Concern splinters in his eyes as they briefly meet mine.