Page 41 of Spotlight Hearts

The door opens behind us. The rest of the band spills in—Michael first, already loud; Min-ho quiet behind him; Luca last, already scanning the room.

They find us almost immediately. Luca’s gaze lands on me and holds. Butterflies explode to life, like a volcano erupting and my heart kicks hard against my ribs.

Laney squeezes my hand one last time. “Go talk to him.”

She lets go. Walks toward Min-ho and pulls him into a tight hug, kissing each cheek.

I stand there—alone in the crowd, lights pulsing, music thumping—watching Luca cross the room toward me.

“We should talk,” he says as he comes to a stop in front of me.

FOURTEEN

LUCA

The lounge is loud—bass thumping through the floor, laughter spiking over the music, glasses clinking—but all I can hear is my own pulse hammering in my ears as I cross the room toward him.

Kai’s standing near the bar, alone now that Laney’s peeled off to hug Min-ho. He’s in a black hoodie and dark jeans, hair still a little damp from sweat, and even in the dim light, I can see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers flex around an empty glass as though he’s holding himself together by sheer will.

I stop a foot away. Close enough to see the way his throat moves when he swallows.

“We should talk,” I say.

His eyes lift to mine—dark and guarded, but not cold. Not anymore. There’s something else there now. Something that makes my stomach flip like I’m sixteen again, asking someone to prom and terrified they’ll laugh.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “We should.”

Relief hits first, sharp and dizzying. Then nerves—hot, electric, crawling under my skin. My palms are damp. My heart’s beating so hard I’m sure he can hear it. I feel turned on and terrified in equal measure, like I’m standing on the edge of something I’ve wanted for months and might still fall off.

“Somewhere quieter?” I ask.

He nods once, before setting his glass down and following me without another word.

The balcony door clicks shut behind us. The city hums below—car horns, distant sirens, the low pulse of New York that never quite sleeps—but out here, it’s quieter. Cooler. The string lights overhead cast soft gold across Kai’s face, catching the sharp line of his jaw. He’s close enough that I can smell him—clean soap, the slight scent of leather from his stage pants, the faint musk of exertion. My pulse kicks up again, same way it did on stage when his hand brushed over my cock.

He leans his forearms on the railing, staring out at the skyline instead of at me. I mirror him—elbows on the metal, shoulder almost touching his.

Neither of us speaks for a long minute. The tension from the show is still crackling between us like static.

I break first, keeping my voice low and careful.

“Tonight…during ‘Starlight Ruin.’ When I put my hand under your shirt. When you—” I swallow. Shit, I’m really going to say this out loud. I breathe in a steadying breath before continuing. “When you felt how hard I was. And you touched me back, instead of pulling away…”

He goes still and doesn’t look at me. But I see the way his knuckles whiten on the railing.

“Yeah…” he trails off.

I turn my head to look at him and repeat, “You didn’t pull away, Kai.”

“No. I didn’t.”

The admission hangs there. My dick twitches in my jeans just remembering the slow drag of his fingers over the bulge, the way neither of us pulled away. I watched the Tiktoks that are flooding social media as we speak. It looks real.

I shift my weight, debating if I should reveal the next information or if it’s crossing another line. “I’ve been hard for you on stage before—more times than I want to admit—but tonight…when you pressed back into me, when you cupped me through my pants…I almost lost it right there.”

Kai exhales, his breath shaky. His eyes are still on the city, but his cheeks are flushed now. “I think I wanted you to. I wanted you to groan my name into the mic so the whole arena heard it.”

Fuck.