Page 55 of Lights, Camera, Love

‘Evie is not only my co-star in my upcoming film,Moving,’ Austin says as Kye and I wait at the base of the stage stairs, ‘but, uh … look, this is something notmany people know, but I’m sure this gorgeous girl won’t mind me telling you—Evie is also showbizroyalty.’

Wait. What?

Kye stiffens as I stare up at Austin, whose face is a white oval beneath the stage lights.

‘Our Evie Scott is none other than the daughter—the only child—of international film iconGabriel Dean!’ Austin bursts out, like a circus ringmaster announcing his headline act.

A split second of stunned silence envelops the nightclub. Then it tips into a sharp upsurge of ear-piercing whistles and thunderous claps. Kye’s grip on my hand tightens, but I barely register his touch. My entire body has frozen solid, and all I can do is gape up at Austin.

Did he just …

In the corner of my eye, I see a jumble of black camera lenses pointed at me, their red lights blinking and their flashbulbs popping.

I turn and stare vacantly at Kye as the opening bars of ‘La Bomba’ boom through the speakers.

‘Come on. We have to go on,’ he says, giving my hand a light tug as he leads me up the stage steps. My head is swimming with shock, but as soon as I feel the stage lights warming my face, something inside me resets. I do what I’ve been trained to do as a professional dancer and get on with the show.

Kye stands directly behind me, folds an arm around my waist, and presses his warm, solid chest to my back. We hold there, still, while the song’s long intro playsout, and a growing horror begins to spread through my stomach.

Kye must’ve told Austin who my father is, even though I asked him not to. Of course he did; they’re so close—they share everything. Why not this? Plus, Kye’s already made it obvious that he puts Austin’s feelings well above my own.

Ricky Martin’s first verse kicks in, and Kye flings me into six lightning-fast spins before dropping me into a dip. The world pitches onto its side but Kye holds me steady until I’ve regained my balance, his arm cupping my back, his body bent over mine and his dark, thickly lashed eyes fixed on my own.

On the next beat, he pulls me back up and leads me into a cross-body inside turn, followed by a hook turn. His fingers slide down my hair and down my arm, and then he drags my body against his in one smooth manoeuvre, bringing my stomach flush with his.

He locks one arm behind my back and we perform the basic step, back and forth, with our hips moulded tightly together. The audience whistles and claps as our hips gyrate and circle, down low then back up again.

We both step out, and as soon as we’re no longer touching, my mind resumes racing. Did Kye and Austin plan this together, deciding to reveal my father’s identity tonight because the media would be here? Did they do it to get more publicity for the movie—and Austin’s career?

Kye moves behind me again, raising one of my arms up over my head and wrapping his other arm aroundmy waist. Facing the audience, we drop our hips together, first to the right, then to the left.

All of a sudden, a camera light pans into my sightline, blinding me, and I stumble on the next turn.

With his chest still locked to my back, Kye brings his lips to my ear. ‘Look at me,’ he says. ‘Focus on me.’

His fingers catch my jaw and tilt my face up and around to his. I gaze right into Kye’s eyes as his hips loosen against my backside a touch, then press forward. A sigh escapes my throat, and my fingers grip tighter around his thick forearm. He does it again—pulls back a touch, then grinds into me, harder this time. I can’t help but push back against him.

Oh my.What was I thinking about just now?

While I’m still facing away from Kye, he guides my arms back, moving them up and around his neck, and my eyes sink closed while I lose myself in the rhythm … in the movements … inhim.

There’s no Gabriel anymore. There’s no Austin. There is only me, and Kye, and the music.

Towering behind me, he drops his face down to my clavicle, and I turn and rest my nose against his upper cheek. His arms tighten around my torso, and my world blurs into soft focus. I imagine turning my face all the way around and brushing my lips against his, capturing his mouth and tasting everything I want but can’t have.

Then, like a slap to the face, the song cuts out, and a fierce chorus of clapping rises in my ears. Kye stepsforward to stand beside me, his fingers find mine, and we bow.

Austin marches onto the stage clutching the microphone, his mouth pulled tight and his skin absent of colour. Still gripping my hand, Kye guides me down the short staircase. As soon as we’re off the stage, though, the fog of music and desire lifts.

‘You okay?’ he asks when I let go of his hand.

‘I can’t believe she’s Gabriel Dean’sdaughter,’ I hear a woman gasp.

‘I know!’ chimes another.

I can’t seem to catch my breath, and I’m by no means out of shape. I turn away from Kye’s concerned stare and escape through the closest exit I can find, a black door beside the stage. I need air.

‘Evie?’ Kye follows me down the dimly lit hallway that connects the back storage rooms to the loading dock. ‘Where are you going?’

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