Rafael laughs, then squeezes my shoulder. ‘Why don’t you hang out here in the VIP area, babe, until Austin calls you guys on? Sit and drink, cuties,’ he says, winking at me and Kye through the smoky liner that makes his ebony eyes shine.
Austin’s gaze shifts between me and Kye, and he suddenly pushes close to me, touching his lips to my cheek.
‘Knock ’em dead, babe,’ he says.
I smile. ‘You, too.’
A roving, eagle-eyed photographer aims her camera in our direction, and I make a snap decision, purely for publicity’s sake, to tilt forward and press my mouth to Austin’s. A cold shiver rushes over my lips as they touch his.How can these kisses be getting worse, not better?
Austin heads off with Rafael, and I gingerly take a seat on the couch beside Kye.
‘You know it’s just for the cameras,’ I say without looking at him.
His fingers pick at the label of his beer bottle. ‘Of course. I came up with the idea, didn’t I?’ He finally angles his face to look at me, and heat whips over my cheeks as our gazes sear together.
Hi.
Hi.
I suck in a breath and blink away, reminding myself not to get caught up in fantasy. It doesn’t help that Kye looks eye-poppingly handsome tonight in ripped white jeans and a blue-and-white gingham shirt with a plum pocket square that matches my dress.
The background music fades out, and Austin’s high-energy voice booms through the microphone, drawing a whooping cheer from the amped-up crowd.
Kye’s eyes haven’t left mine. I turn back to him, letting myself become locked in a silent staring competition.
I didn’t expect this. I was sure that I’d turn up tonight and he’d be back to his cool, distant, Groucho self. Instead, he’s gazing at me with a little crease of longing between his brows. At least, Ithinkit’s longing; the butterflies crowding my stomach certainly want it to be.
‘You look beautiful,’ I can’t help but murmur, because he does.
Kye’s eyes soften; his cheeks darken. ‘Youarebeautiful,’ he says, his voice a deep rumble. ‘And I don’t just mean how you look.’ He reaches to lightly graze his thumb over my cheek. ‘You are very, very beautiful,’ he says.
I tilt my head into his palm as a shaky breath pushes out of my lungs. ‘Kye, what you said the other day—’
‘Hasn’t changed,’ he finishes soberly.
A knife sinks into my heart, and I pull away from him. His hand slips off my cheek.
‘I respect that you don’t want to do anything to upset your best friend,’ I say, wishing we were anywhere but in this loud, crowded bar. ‘And that’s honourable. It is. But boy, does it suck for me.’
Kye’s lips quirk, but the sadness doesn’t leave his eyes. ‘It sucks for me, too.’
Then don’t do it.
He says nothing further, so I pick up my drink and take a long sip. You’d think I would be used to handling rejection by now, considering my history with my father, but this feels agonisingly raw.
Kye sighs, the sound almost pained, as he leans into me, ensnaring me in his gaze. ‘You’re too good for me, Evie,’ he whispers.
We both jump as Austin announces that it’s time for the final act and booms our names through the speakers.Showtime.
I toss back my last gulp of mojito. ‘You ready?’
‘Christ, no.’
I smile as Kye climbs to his feet and reaches for my hand. Our fingers lace tightly together, and I see a flush of affection shining through his face. I haven’t performed one dance move yet, and my heart is already a bass drum. Has holding hands with someone always felt this good? All the nerve endings in my fingers are lighting up, leaving a trail of sparks wherever our skin makes contact. Somehow, our conversation at the photo shoot hasn’t pushed us further apart; I think it’s brought us closer together.
‘Comrades, this is anextra specialperformance,’ Austin announces through the microphone, ‘because, about to hit the stage with the rising salsa star, Kye Evans’—Kye makes a horrified face, and I laugh—‘is my wonderful girlfriend, Evie Scott!’
Kye’s hand loosens in mine a touch, and my fingers constrict around his, silently willing him not to let go.
