Page 44 of Lights, Camera, Love

‘Can you come over?’ I ask. ‘My mum’s working tonight.

’ In truth, Beyoncé could be waiting for me at home and I’d still want to drag Kye through my front door by his shirt.

While we’ve talked on the phone almost non-stop, it feels like a millennium has passed since I last saw him on our hike, and I don’t want to let him go.

‘I’d love to.’ He cradles my face in his hands, blinks into my eyes, then tugs me closer for another kiss that buckles my knees.

We drive to my apartment separately, and I meet him on the footpath outside. I apologise for the lack of lift as I lead him up the echoing stairwell to my door.

Mum hasn’t tidied up, and there’s a faint smell of fish sauce mingling with the general mustiness of the old building. I glance over at Kye with a jolt of regret for bringing him here. But as he pulls off his jacket, all he offers me is a warm smile.

‘How are you, baby?’ he asks.

I could throw myself at him. When I really think about the question, though, my voice thins. ‘I’m doing okay.’

I try to smile, but I don’t think it quite works because he says, ‘No, you’re not.’

Sighing, I drag out two kitchen stools, and we sit down. I begin filling Kye in on everything that happened with my father—with more detail this time. I then go over the chat I had with Mum this morning.

‘The whole thing feels weird,’ I explain, going to chew my thumbnail but catching myself.

‘I don’t want to drag up the past and wreck my relationship with her—especially not while she’s living here—but I sort of feel like …

I feel like I’ve unravelled a tight bandage that had been holding Mum and me together, and now we’re somehow disconnected, and not quite working the way we used to. ’

‘You’ll come back together,’ he reassures, his eyes mining my face. ‘And have you heard anything from your dad?’

‘Nope.’

Kye’s brows draw together.

‘And that’d be father ,’ I correct. ‘Not dad . Big difference there.’

‘Yeah. Right.’

‘What about you?’ I ask, tugging his hand into my lap. ‘Are you still staying at your friend’s place?’

‘Yeah. I feel bad about having been there for so long, even though I know he’d never dream of kicking me out. But his house is busy enough as it is. I think it’s time I go home and face the music.’ Kye’s skin loses a bit of colour.

‘Thanks for agreeing to help call off the public romance,’ I say, now that we’re on the topic of Austin.

‘Sure. Of course. The PR stunt was only an option as long as you were both keen on it. Besides, I think we already achieved what we wanted. I’m sure you’ve seen how many news stories are circulating about Moving .’

‘Yeah. Thank goodness the media are focused on that and have stopped pumping out stories about me and Gabriel.’

He smiles, compassion stirring in his eyes as his thumb kneads little circles in my palm. ‘Have you heard anything more about the Buzz situation?’

I shake my head, and Kye lets out a frustrated breath.

‘What more do they fucking want?’ he complains. ‘Why haven’t they sacked him yet?’

I shrug a shoulder. ‘I’m not sure I even care anymore.

I’m glad I did the movie, but I don’t think the big screen is really for me.

I just want to dance and keep things relaxed and low-pressure.

Do you think that’s bad?’ I glance around at my humble apartment and shabby furniture—things that won’t get any fancier with the budget I’m on.

‘Fuck no.’ Kye catches my chin between two fingers, steering my eyes to his.

‘Being a celebrity doesn’t mean shit,’ he says.

‘I’ve been around enough of them to know.

If you want to be a movie star, be a movie star; if you want to be a road maintenance worker, be a road maintenance worker; if you want to teach dance, teach dance.

Just be you, Evie. That’s all the world needs from you. ’

The edges of my smile push against his fingers.

‘And for the record,’ he adds, his soft gaze penetrating mine, ‘I’m glad you did the movie, too.’

I feel the surprise hit my face, knowing how bad the film is turning out, but then I realise what Kye means. I flush with warmth, wishing I could stay in this shoddy kitchen forever. But it’s not the paint-chipped walls and yellowing linoleum counter I’m feeling attached to right now.

‘So, I did something,’ Kye suddenly says, his throat flexing.

‘Oh no, not something ,’ I joke, smiling.

Panic blows across his features. ‘I booked a visit with the jail. To see my brother.’

My brows fly up. ‘You did?’

He nods, his face growing taut. ‘For this weekend. I put in an application, and Jace didn’t reject it, which is a good sign, right?’

‘Yeah, of course. It’s a great sign.’ I squeeze his hand. ‘That’s amazing. I’m so happy for you.’

‘Maybe don’t be happy for me just yet. It might not go well, or Jace could cancel—or I could. I mean, am I really going to do this?’

‘Oh, Kye,’ I say. ‘This is really brave. I’m proud of you.’ It feels odd saying that when I’ve only known him for a few months, but my words summon a look of relief in his eyes.

‘Thank you,’ he says. ‘You’re actually the one who inspired me. I mean, if you went and saw your father, I can do this.’

‘You can.’ I caress the knuckle of his thumb.

‘But Kye, I hope you don’t cancel. I mean— do , if you really want to.

But your brother can’t … he can’t come and see you.

You have to go to him. And if you don’t show up after you said you would, well, let’s just say that I know how that feels—a version of it, at least—and I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone. ’

A soft furrow appears on his brow as he sits forward on his stool and touches his lips to mine.

This time, there’s no mauling, no biting, no blindfolds—just the sweet, soft silk of his mouth. He guides my lips open, and I sigh as our tongues melt together, a sensation so intoxicating that I nearly tumble off my stool.

Kye steadies my shoulders, awarding me that smile at close range. I kiss him so hard that, this time, it’s him who almost topples over.

‘Come on,’ I whisper, linking my fingers with his and leading him to my bedroom.

The moment I close the door, Kye turns me around and pushes me against it, his mouth crashing onto mine. He brushes our tongues together until I turn limp, then sinks to his knees. His palms run up my thighs, then continue their glide over my bare midriff and beneath my crop top.

I slouch against the door as he pushes up the lycra, freeing my breasts and closing his hands over them.

‘ Fuck , I haven’t stopped thinking about these,’ he says, his voice hoarse.

Then he takes one of my nipples into his mouth and lets out a hungry grunt over the tight bud, licking and sucking until I’m so wet and achy between my legs that I seem to be dissolving into the doorframe.

Like he knows exactly what I need, Kye flattens his huge, warm palm over my centre, digging in firmly with the heel of his hand.

My eyes practically roll into the back of my head as he plays with me over the cotton of my leggings.

‘I need to taste you right here ,’ he says, grazing the pad of his thumb across my most sensitive spot.

I’ve lost the ability to speak; I become boneless against the door as Kye presses his mouth to the apex of my thighs through the fabric. He burrows his nose in there, then peels the leggings away from my soaked skin.

‘You’re so perfect, Evie,’ he rasps. With both hands, he grips my behind and brings me to his mouth, swiping and swirling his tongue while he sinks two fingers inside me.

With both of us moaning, he carries my pleasure higher and higher with his mouth and hand until a wave of tension surges inside me, crests and then crashes, unleashing a torrent of pleasure that floods my insides.

Murmuring sounds of delight, Kye nuzzles his mouth against me. After the euphoric fog has lifted, I take hold of his arms and wrench him up so that I can strip him naked.

Once we’re both undressed, he yanks me down onto the bed, and I laugh as I crash on top of him.

I then sit up, curve my palms around his shoulders and shove them onto the mattress.

His chuckle blends into a groan as I bend and take him into my mouth.

His fingers lift my hair away, giving him a clearer view as I swirl my tongue.

He tells me, again and again, how beautiful I am, and I close my mouth over him, gliding my lips up and down, savouring the broken moans that tear from his throat.

‘ Evie ,’ Kye gasps, his hand tightening around the back of my neck. ‘I need to fuck you right now, or I’m going to come all over you.’

I stop what I’m doing and crawl back up to his side. ‘Promise?’ I say.

He growls and flips me over so that I’m lying on my back. Then he straddles me, his hands clasped around my wrists. I thrust up my hips, brushing myself against him and making clear what I want.

Kye lets out a sharp breath, then climbs off me to sheath himself in a condom.

When he returns and crawls between my legs, he presses his hands to the backs of my thighs and pushes them up.

He lines himself up and enters me fully, making my back arch and my lungs expand as pleasure washes through my body.

‘Yeah, that’s it, baby,’ he encourages. ‘Show me how good you feel when I’m inside you.’

At first he’s rough and wild, the headboard smacking against the wall with every forceful punch of his hips.

But at some point, the energy between us starts to shift, and the pace of his movements begins to slow.

By this time I’ve been on my back, on my knees, sitting on Kye’s lap.

But now I find myself on my back again, my fingers entwined with his as he buries himself inside me.

His eyes tangle with mine and we silently gaze at each other, our bodies so tightly fused that it would be impossible to tell where one of us ends and the other begins.

Suddenly, the world tips on its axis as Kye does something so completely ordinary, yet all my attention zeroes in on it. He reaches up to brush a wayward strand of hair off his forehead, and a crushing, yearning feeling steamrolls through my body.

I’m falling in love with you.

I don’t say the words aloud, but I’m sure that Kye catches the blush spreading over my cheeks. Emotion takes hold of his features as he lowers his mouth to mine once again.

‘Come for me, Firefly,’ he whispers. ‘Shine for me.’

I sit up on my elbows, chasing another blissful kiss, and then give him what he wants. Twice, but who’s counting?

Afterwards, we take a shower together, and he slips back into his boxer briefs. I wait for him to continue dressing and tell me he’s going home, but he just sits on the edge of my bed and combs his fingers through his sex-tangled hair.

‘Could I stay over, Evie?’ he asks softly.

Smiling with relief, I pat the space beside me. We lay down, and he drags my back against his chest and drapes a protective arm around my torso.

The exhaustion in my body surfaces quickly, ready to claim me. But as I teeter on the verge of sleep, I can’t shake the thought that this feels every bit as intimate as what we just experienced—maybe even more so to someone as guarded as Kye.

He once implied that he doesn’t trust anyone, including me.

He seems deeply afraid of getting hurt. I don’t know if it’s because of what he went through as a kid, but he’s kept his defences up since the beginning …

pushing me away when I started showing interest in him, using Austin as an excuse to avoid getting close, even trying to sabotage things by telling me I was too good for him.

Yet, for the second time, he’s lying beside me, his chest rising and falling with the slow, steady rhythm of sleep. Isn’t the act of sleeping next to someone the purest form of trust? Of closeness?

A desperate, almost painful feeling of want elbows its way into my chest, and my eyes spring open.

I’m not falling in love with him; I’m already there.

I love him.

I love Kye.

If there’s anything that life has taught me, though, it’s that just because you want someone to love you, it doesn’t mean they will.

A surge of anxiety rises over the longing in my chest. What if Kye’s fear of getting close pulls him away? What if, in the end, it’s not him who gets hurt, but me?