Page 44 of Lights, Camera, Love

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.

When I clam up, he looks remorseful. ‘Sorry, that sounded nosy as fuck.’

‘No, it’s fine, it’s fine,’ I mumble. As direct as Kye is, I sense that he wouldn’t try to force me to speak about anything that makes me uncomfortable. And I think that’s the reason I always seem to want to.

A jagged breath cuts between my lips. ‘I…I saw my father this morning. At Village Pictures. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him in the flesh, and he…he saw me, and he walked right past me. He ignored me.’

The words come out blunt and matter-of-fact. Inside, though, I’m howling.

Kye lets out a coarse breath. ‘Fuck. I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘That’s rough.’ I stay quiet, and gently he adds, ‘This might sound like a stupid question, but would he recognise you?’

‘I don’t know,’ I whisper, tears springing to my eyes.‘I don’t have a clue if he even knows what I look like. Isn’t that terrible?’

Kye’s brow tightens, and neither of us says anything for a while. The next song off the DLG album is playing when he asks, ‘What about your mum? What does your mum think?’

‘Oh, I haven’t told her about it, and I’m not even sure if I should.’ I run my fingers over a tiny scratch in the leather door. ‘Plus, she’s out with some guy tonight.’ I can’t help but add, ‘She does that a lot.’

After a moment, he says, ‘And you don’t like it?’

My chest expands with a weighty breath. That question is a mind-twister. I’m happy that my mum feels comfortable seeing who she wants and doing what she wants without any judgement or shame. That’s not the problem. It’s more that…

‘Sometimes I think my mum acts like, unless she’s got a man in her bed, she’s not good enough or something,’ I say clumsily, thinking this out as I go. ‘It’s difficult to describe, but it’s been going on for years now, and it’s…it’s hard to watch. It’s as if she’s addicted to casual flings and hook-ups. She’s never had trouble getting attention from men—some of them probably watched her on TV when she was a sitcom star. And if I thought it made her genuinely happy, I wouldn’t care so much, but…I honestly don’t think it does.’

Mum’s grumpiness, her criticisms, her overspending…I don’t think she’s been happy for a very long time.

Kye’s gaze brushes the side of my face before returning to the road. ‘Can I say something that’s probably out of line?’

A chuckle of anticipation rises in my throat. ‘Sure, why not?’Hit me with your best shot, Groucho.

‘Maybe it’s a way for your mum to protect herself. She can find connection and validation and desire without the possibility of being rejected or abandoned. Which, can I guess, might have happened with your father?’

I turn and settle my gaze on his handsome profile.

‘You a therapist, too?’ I tease. ‘What else can you do that I don’t know about? Dancer, manager, stylist, therapist…’ I tap them out on my fingers.

A quiet laugh rumbles from him. ‘That’s pretty much the extent of my repertoire.’

The car pulls to a stop at a red light. ‘And what about you?’ I ask. ‘I feel like we’re always talking aboutmyscrewed-up family.’ The second I say those words, I want to shove them back into my mouth. ‘Oh, wait, sorry, I didn’t mean—’

‘It’s okay.’ He scratches his jaw, blinking at the windscreen.

Good one, Evie. Make light of the foster child’s traumatic past.

I sheepishly direct Kye to turn as we reach my street, and his mocha eyes slide back to mine. ‘Yeah, I know. I picked you up the other day, remember?’

‘Oh yeah.’ The smile I can’t help seems to summon his, and it’s so hard to look away.

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