Page 39 of Lights, Camera, Love

Hiking along a precarious cliffside track, shoulder-to-shoulder instead of in single file, Kye and I are a tragic news story waiting to happen.

But he seems as reluctant to separate from me as I am from him.

His arm sits locked around my lower back, his fingers cinched tightly around my waist as we negotiate the rocky path, making frequent stops to kiss so uncontrollably that we lose what’s left of our breath. Oops .

I don’t remember ever feeling this giddy and weak in the knees over someone—not even when I was a teenager dreaming about Austin Reynolds.

Ever since the night Kye and I spent together at the hotel, my stomach has re-formed into a river of maple syrup, while my heart has become a galloping racehorse.

It’s an uncomfortable, frightening and divine feeling, and I can’t remember the last time I felt this happy.

‘Wait, hold up,’ Kye says, tugging me to a stop. He points at a tangle of vines and branches. ‘Do you see it?’

I squint. ‘No, I don’t—oh wait. I do. It’s a tree!’

A chuckle rolls off my tongue, and Kye captures my jaw in his hand and crushes his lips to mine like that’s some kind of punishment. He then guides my face back towards said tree.

‘There. Hanging from that thin branch.’

I peer closer. ‘You mean … leaves ?’ I say with a faux squeal.

‘Exactly. Well, almost.’ He takes my hand and lifts my index finger to a small, dried-up bunch of old leaves. ‘It’s a spiny leaf insect.’

‘That’s alive ?’ I lean closer to inspect the hanging creature, whose tail curls up like a scorpion’s. ‘I can’t believe you even spotted it—you should be a professional sniper. Or a lifeguard. Or someone who paints those teeny-tiny miniature paintings.’

Kye smiles and shakes his head. ‘You can keep these as pets,’ he says, nodding at the insect.

I make a face. ‘No thanks. I’d much prefer a fluffy, cuddly bunny that doesn’t look like it was conceived in the seventh circle of hell.’

As I continue to survey the creepy creature, Kye steps up behind me, slipping his arms around my torso and sinking his hands inside the front pockets of my jean shorts. When his fingertips reach my pelvic area and press down through the thin fabric, I twist around to give him an accusatory stare.

‘ Hey ,’ I say, as a flush of heat washes over my skin.

‘What?’ He gazes down at me, his gorgeous eyes growing smoky.

I lay my hands on top of his. ‘Don’t act like you’re not trying to feel me up in the middle of a national park.’

He hums a flirty sound as he flexes his fingers more firmly against the insides of my thighs, pushing through the fabric. Kye’s hands are so large that the pads of his fingers are causing all the nerve endings from my waist to my knees to awaken and tingle.

‘Stop it,’ I say, but my coarse breaths betray the warning.

He swallows roughly and withdraws one hand from the pocket of my shorts. He then lowers it to touch his thumb to exactly the right spot between my thighs—over the denim—and a sigh escapes my lips.

My head tips back against his shoulder, my hoop earring landing on his neck. ‘Don’t tease me,’ I beg. He slowly undoes the button of my fly, tugs down the zipper and slips his hand inside my underwear. My fingers tighten around his other hand, which still sits loosely in my pocket.

Kye looks down to my panties, beneath which his hand has disappeared. ‘Baby, you’re soaked,’ he says hungrily. He brushes his fingertips against me, savouring my arousal, and then he positions his body a little lower. Once again, he finds the exact right spot with his thumb—skin on skin this time.

‘ Kye .’ I sound as if I just climbed Mount Everest.

‘Yes?’ he whispers, turning his lips to the side of my neck. ‘You want me to stop?’

‘ No ,’ I manage as my legs buckle beneath the weight of my desire. But when I feel his length thickening against my behind, I remember where we are and how illegal this is.

‘We should stop,’ I murmur with a great deal of reluctance.

His hands lift off me. ‘I know; sorry.’ He shakes his head and lets out a forceful breath. ‘If you hadn’t stopped me, I was gonna take you right here in the dirt. And spiny-leaf guy might have seen.’

I turn, giving him a needy look. ‘Now, there’s a mental image I can live with. And I don’t mean spiny-leaf,’ I clarify. ‘I disapprove of insect voyeurs.’

‘They bug you?’ Kye brings his lips to mine and smiles against my mouth. Every part of me melts as he brushes our tongues together, his palms cradling my face.

‘Fuck, Evie,’ he whispers. ‘I need to taste you so bad. I need my mouth on you.’

My vision starts to swim. Another mental image I can live with.

I don’t know where we can go to continue this. I’m pretty sure my mum is at home right now, and I can’t bear the thought of hooking up with a guy while she’s in the next room. Especially not a talker like Kye.

We can’t go to Kye’s apartment either. He’s been crashing over at a friend’s house for the past few days, some guy called Mike. He hasn’t brought up Austin, and I haven’t asked because every time Kye speaks or hears that guy’s name, a new ice age seems to descend upon the Earth.

Kye nuzzles his lips into my neck, and I sigh. ‘You are making this very hard,’ I say.

‘Oh, you think I’m making things hard?’

He takes my hand and presses it to the firm length stretching beneath his fleece shorts, and my skin blisters with heat. I can’t help but squeeze him, and a low groan escapes his mouth.

‘Stop it,’ I gasp, yanking my hand away. ‘You’re just being evil now. Let’s go.’ I prise myself off him and put some much-needed space between us. ‘Also, being out of phone range for this long is starting to freak me out.’

‘Does that mean you still haven’t heard from your agent?’ he asks as we resume our walk back down the trail, kicking up dust clouds of dry earth as we go.

‘Nope,’ I sigh. ‘Crickets.’

At the start of the week, Kye did what he’d promised after I got the go-ahead from Martina: he marched into the Village Pictures headquarters with the video of Buzz and me at the wrap party.

I’d have felt better about him showing it to the executives if it hadn’t also captured me tearing apart Buzz’s creative vision, of course, but I still felt pretty certain that the director’s lewd rant was far more offensive than anything I’d said.

Kye and Martina agreed, and so did Rafael when I showed him the video.

Now, Village Pictures has launched an investigation into the incident, and Martina is handling the matter on my behalf. So far, I have no idea what’s happening other than that post-production for Moving has been put on hold until the situation is resolved.

‘You have no need to worry,’ Kye reassures me now. ‘She’ll get in touch.’ He reaches for my hand and links our fingers. ‘And what about … the other thing?’ he asks, hesitation colouring his voice. ‘How are you feeling about it?’

I tense. The other thing is the lunch I have scheduled with my father tomorrow. Every time I think about it, my stomach turns in on itself, and I fight off an urge to retch. I haven’t even worked up the courage to tell my mum about it yet.

‘The other thing ,’ I stammer, ‘can’t come soon enough, but is also coming way too fast, if that makes sense.’

Kye’s fingers tighten around mine. ‘It does. And like I said, if there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know.’

I smile at him, squinting through the sharp blades of sunlight slicing through the trees. ‘Could you go to the lunch for me?’ I try. ‘Take some notes, and I’ll go see the new Beyoncé concert movie instead?’

He murmurs a sound of sympathy and tugs me closer.

With careful steps, we navigate our way back down the rocky path, and once civilisation has reappeared and we’re back in mobile range, I dig my phone out of my canvas backpack.

‘Everything all right?’ Kye asks, eyeing my frown.

‘Austin tried to call me. He wants me to ring him back.’

Two spots of colour appear on Kye’s cheeks. ‘Why’d he call you?’

‘I have no idea. What do you think he wants?’

He shrugs. ‘No clue.’ We traipse across the picnic ground towards his black Audi in silence. The drama between Kye and Austin still confuses the heck out of me—especially because so much of it has to do with me, even though there was never any real connection between me and Austin.

‘I should call him back,’ I decide out loud as we arrive at the car.

Kye clears his throat and unlocks the doors. ‘Sure.’

We climb into the comfy leather seats, and Kye tugs on his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger while I bring my phone to my ear.

Austin answers immediately, but his usually energetic tone is flat and sombre. ‘Hi, Evie. Are you with Kye?’

‘Um … no—I’m … I’m with my mum.’

Why did I just say that? My face crunches up. I hate lying.

With a tight swallow, Kye throws the car into gear and pulls out onto the street.

This is ridiculous. Why do I feel like we need to hide this?

‘Cool,’ Austin says, sounding relieved. He then starts on about how he hasn’t seen Kye for a few days.

While Austin mutters away, my gaze runs up the side of Kye’s tanned neck, across to the tendrils of dark-caramel hair that sit up off his forehead and down to his lips, which pout even more when he’s concentrating on the road.

If I wasn’t on the phone, I’d crawl over the console and kiss the corner of his mouth.

Like he can read my thoughts, he glances at me for a quick second, and an adorable blush hits his cheeks.

‘Anyway, I should’ve made this call ages ago,’ Austin says, drawing back my focus. After a deep breath, he blurts , ‘I’m sorry, Evie. I’m sorry for making that announcement at the DanceLab showcase about your dad.’

I seize up in my seat.

‘I honestly didn’t know it was such a big secret,’ Austin says. ‘But I should’ve, because you never said anything about it. I was only thinking about the movie and making it a hit for both of us. I screwed up majorly, and I’m really sorry. You know I’m not the sharpest cookie in the jar.’