Page 21 of Lights, Camera, Love

‘You can have cabin twelve,’ she says. ‘It’s at the end of the path, up behind the toolshed. The door will be unlocked, and the key will be inside.’

I let out a breath of relief. ‘Thank you so, so much, lovely, for organising that, and for coming out this late. I really appreciate it.’ I lift the ice pack off my neck to give my skin a break from the freezer burn.

Kiara and James offer to help me move cabins, but it’s getting late, and I’m already packed up for tomorrow’s departure, so I insist they head off.

Once I’ve got all my stuff together, I offer the wasps a ‘good riddance’ salute and roll my bag along the bumpy path, following Kiara’s directions. Hopefully, there’s a hot shower and a strong wi-fi signal at the other end. The path twists behind the toolshed, where a single cabin sits within a cradle of eucalyptus trees, a warm glow seeping through its closed blinds. Whoever unlocked it must’ve put the light on for me.

After lugging my suitcase up the short staircase leading to the verandah, I shove my shoulder into the stiff sliding door to get it open and half-tumble through the vertical blinds into the room beyond.

Kye spins around to face me. My eyes slip to the collage of tattoos inked over his bare chest, to the chest that is …holy shit. Ripped, muscular, shredded—what are words again?

Abs. Abs is a word.

He reaches for a navy V-neck and tugs it over his head. ‘Sorry, I thought you were Austin,’ he grunts.

‘No, I’m …I’msorry.’ I sound like I just ran a marathon. ‘Is this … is this cabin twelve?’

He combs his fingers through his damp hair; he must have just gotten out of the shower. I finally figure out that Groucho doesn’t deliberately style his hair in a messy tousle—it’s how it naturally falls.

‘You’re in the right place,’ he mumbles. ‘I guess I took too long to pack.’

‘Wait. I’m kicking you out of your room?’

‘It’s fine. I’m gonna bunk with Austin. He’s got a two-bedder.’ Kye’s eyes travel to my neck. ‘You all right? Heard a wasp got you. It’s pretty rare that they sting.’

‘Yeah, I’m okay. Just a bit sore.’

‘Any swelling inside your mouth, or trouble breathing?’ A subtle crease appears between his brows.

I shake my head.

‘That’s good. Usually, an anaphylactic reaction to something like that would present pretty quickly.’

‘I’ll be sweet as long as I don’t sleep on my back.’ My gaze travels to the double bed—the one Kye’s been sleeping in, which I’m about to curl up in. I glance back at Kye, and see he’s followed my eyes there.

That’s when the babbling starts.

In a low mutter, he tells me again that Austin has a two-bedder. He says something about having just finished packing, about how he’ll get out of here as quickly as possible, and how Austin wanted them to bunk together in the first place, so I shouldn’t feel bad.

I stammer back an apology about traipsing over so fast and not giving him enough time to move out; I say that I didn’t know he’d been staying in this cabin, or else I would’ve given him more time.

The awkward exchange is interrupted by heavy footsteps clumping across the verandah, followed by two hard raps on the door.

‘That’s probably Austin,’ Kye says, stepping past me and leaving a sublime, soapy smell in his wake.

He sweeps the blinds aside and slides the jammed door open with ease. Buzz pushes past him in silky animal-print pyjamas, his eyes locked on me.

‘Oh, honey, I heard about the injury.’ His caterpillar brows meet in the middle as he comes up to me.

‘It’s just a sting,’ I say, taken aback that Buzz thought this warranted a late-night visit. ‘I feel fine, and … and usually, an anaphylactic reaction to something like that would present pretty quickly.’ My gaze skips to Kye, whose eyes soften a fraction.

But his expression hardens as he addresses Buzz. ‘The wasp nest was right outside Evie’s cabin. That’s an issue that the production team should probably have done something about. Lucky she’s not allergic, huh?’

Buzz swivels around to frown at him. ‘What areyoudoing here?’

‘This was my cabin,’ Kye replies, a sharp edge to his tone. ‘I’m just packing up.’

Buzz has already lost interest; his attention is back on me. ‘Show me the sting,’ he demands. ‘Kiara said itgot you on the neck.’ The hairs on my arms pop up as he circles behind me, the tips of his slippers bumping the backs of my slides.

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