Page 50 of Keep Me Close

By the time the sedan pulls up to the venue, I’ve almost convinced myself I’m calm and under control. Then the door opens and the world detonates with both light and sound. Flashbulbs explode the second we step out. Voices crash over us in waves. My body reacts instantly, years of conditioning snapping into place without a second thought.

Shoulders back.

Chin lifted.

Smile ready.

I know how to step onto a carpet and become the version of myself people expect to see. Although, standing beside Knox changes the equation in a way I’m unable to explain.

“Knox!”

“Cheyenne!”

“Over here!”

I slip into publicity mode, but it feels less practiced tonight because his hand is firm at my waist as he guides me forward. Every flash seems brighter with him next to me. Every shouted question louder. Every camera more apt to catch the feelings I’m trying to keep buried beneath the surface so I can pretend they don’t exist.

Zane and Gigi are already halfway down the carpet, posing like they’ve rehearsed every angle. The second Knox appears, attention shifts our way. You can see the moment the couple realizes they’ve lost the crowd’s interest.

Gigi frowns at us before stalking away.

A reporter calls, “Knox! Are you dating Cheyenne Benson?”

And there it is. The question we knew was coming.

I turn slightly toward him, my smile fixed in place. The air shifts before I fully understand what it means. His arm tightens around me, drawing me closer until my side is pressed against his.

The crowd erupts as the voices grow more frenzied.

He leans closer, warm breath brushing my ear. “Are you ready, Hollywood?”

This time, I know exactly what he means, and my heart trips. When I look up, he’s already watching me.

Everything slows.

The cameras.

The voices.

The city.

It all fades to the background as I stare into his eyes and realize he’s giving me a choice in the matter. A split second to decide. A chance to pull back and keep this safe, to let tonight stay inside the boundaries we’ve been pretending still exist.

I don’t take it. The most startling part is that I don’t want to.

His hand slides along my waist as he pulls me closer right before his mouth settles over mine. The first brush of his lips sends a hot, electric jolt straight through me.

Nothing about this feels tentative or rehearsed.

The kiss from last night had been explosive in its own way. It was unexpected, intimate, and charged with all the things we hadn’t yet said.

This one is bolder.

More of a claim.

The crowd reacts instantly. There’s shouting as shutters flash in relentless bursts, but the noise disappears the second his mouth moves against mine. I’ve been kissed on camera enough times to know how to fake chemistry when necessary.

This isn’t one of those times.