Page 35 of Spotlight Hearts

“Smile, you joyless fuck,” he whispers, voice low and mocking, breath hot against my skin.

The words sting worse than the kiss.

I freeze. The pap’s camera clicks—once, twice, three times in rapid succession. Michael’s eyes are wide. Min-ho’s gone completely still in the van, watching like he’s witnessing a car crash in slow motion.

Luca straightens. Gives the pap a lazy, practiced grin—rock-star charm turned on like a switch—then turns back to me. His sunglasses are back in place, hiding whatever’s in his eyes. But his mouth is curved in that familiar smirk, the one that says he’s won this round.

“Problem solved,” he says. “Now get in the van before we’re really late.”

He climbs in first—long legs folding into the back row as though nothing happened.

I stand there, lips tingling, face burning, heart slamming so hard I can feel it in my throat. The pap lowers his camera, already tapping at his phone, probably captioning the shot before we’ve even pulled away.

Michael clears his throat again. “Uh…you okay?”

I don’t answer. I can’t. My brain is still stuck on the press of Luca’s mouth, the way his hand curled around the back of my neck like he owned me, the way he called me joyless.

I climb in after him and slam the door. Drop into the seat beside him—close, but not touching. The van lurches forward.

Silence stretches. Thick. Uncomfortable. Luca’s leg brushes mine when the driver takes a turn. I flinch. He doesn’t move away.

I stare straight ahead, jaw locked so tight my teeth ache.

He leans back, arms crossed, sunglasses reflecting the passing buildings. After a long minute, he speaks—quiet, so only I can hear. “You gonna pretend that didn’t happen, too?”

I swallow. “Kissing isn’t part of the contract, Luca, don’t do it again.”

He barks out a laugh. “Right. I won’t save our asses next time.”

I turn my head, glare at him. “Save our asses? If you weren’t being such an insufferable asshole, there wouldn’t have been anything for the pap to take pictures of that would require you to put your lips on mine.”

He lowers his sunglasses just enough to meet my eyes. The hazel is hard now, no trace of the softness from yesterday. “I guess it’s your joylessness that brings that side out in me.”

My stomach twists. “You don’t get to act like I’m the problem here. You’re the one who⁠—”

“Who what?” he cuts in. “Who you kissed back in the gym? Who let you run away instead of talking about it?”

I flinch.

He sees it. His mouth twists. “Exactly. You can’t have it both ways, Kai.”

I open my mouth. Close it. Because he’s right. And I hate him for it.

The van hums along the highway. Tasha, Michael, and Min-ho are dead silent up front—probably pretending they’re not hearing every word.

Luca exhales. Leans his head back against the seat. “Forget it. You’re right. Kissing’s off-limits. Won’t happen again.”

He turns toward the window. Leg still pressed to mine, but it feels different now—as though he’s there but not really. Like he’s already halfway gone.

I stare at the back of his head—platinum hair curling slightly at the nape, neck exposed, the faint red mark from my nails where I gripped him last night still visible if you look close.

I want to reach out. Touch it. Apologize. Say something that isn’t defensive or mean. But I don’t. I turn toward my own window instead. The silence stretches the rest of the ride.

The airport private terminal is small, with direct access to the tarmac. We file out of the van in the usual order: Michael first, already joking about snacks, sometimes I’m sure that all he thinks about is food; Min-ho is next, expression neutral; Luca last before me, sunglasses still on, jaw set, moving like he’s on autopilot.

He walks straight up the steps into the plane and heads for the far back corner seat—the one by the window, farthest from the entrance. He drops into it, legs stretched out, arms crossed, cap pulled low. Sunglasses stay on. Message received loud and clear.

The cabin is small; eight seats, leather, a private bar, our own flight attendants. The crew is already on board prepping for our flight, probably because we were late. I hesitate for half a second at the aisle, then choose the seat closest to the door. Opposite side of Luca but facing him.