Page 106 of Spotlight Hearts

“Tell the truth where it matters,” I say. “Ignore the noise. We don’t owe anyone the full story of us.”

Kai nods slowly, thumb still moving in that steady rhythm against my skin.

“Sounds simple when you say it.”

I huff a laugh. “I’m sure it’s not. But what can any of them do?”

“Well…Harry can replace us…” Kai replies.

I roll my lips between my teeth as I hesitate asking the question that wants to come out.

“Does that matter to you? Will that change any of this?” My heart is in my throat as I wait for him to answer.

Please love me as much as I love you.

“It matters,” he says. “But not enough to make me walk away from you.”

The knot in my chest loosens.

“I’ve spent most of my life trying to hold onto things that weren’t mine to keep,” he continues. “I’m tired of that. If Harry wants to replace us, let him try. But I’m not giving this up because of him. Or because of Whitney. Or because of some blurry video.”

He squeezes my hand back.

“I want this. Us. The real version. Even if it means starting over somewhere else.”

I let out a slow breath and pull him closer, pressing my forehead to his.

“Good,” I murmur. “Because I don’t want to do any of it without you.”

Kai’s mouth curves into a small, tired smile. “Then we’re on the same page.”

We stay like that for a while, foreheads touching, breathing each other in. Our phones buzzing in the background reminds us of what the outside world wants, but it doesn’t feel as close right now.

I reach over, grab both our phones, and turn them off without looking at the screens. It’s probably the worst decision, but I just don’t want to face the real world right now. I need one day of this.

“No more today,” I say. “Let’s get away from it all for a few hours.”

Kai watches me, then nods once. “Okay.”

We don’t talk about Harry or the leak or what happens tomorrow. We just get dressed, throw on hoodies and jeans, and slip out of the house before anyone can stop us.

The drive to the coast is quiet. Windows down, music low, Kai’s hand resting on my thigh the whole way. When we finally park near a stretch of rocky beach, the ocean air hits us.

We walk along the shore for hours. And it’s heaven on earth.

No cameras. No fans. No one knowing who we are.

Just the sound of waves crashing, the crunch of pebbles under our shoes, and Kai’s shoulder bumping mine every few steps. He stops to pick up a smooth stone, turning it over in his fingers before tossing it into the water. I watch the way the wind catches his hair, the way his eyes squint against the sun, and feel something settle deep in my chest.

Later, we find a sheltered spot between two large rocks and sit with our backs against one of them. Kai leans into my side, head on my shoulder. I wrap an arm around him, fingers idly playing with the ends of his hair.

We don’t talk much. We don’t need to.

I kiss the top of his head. He tilts his face up and kisses me properly, tasting like salt air and the coffee we grabbed on the way. His hand slides under my hoodie, palm warm against my skin. I pull him closer until he’s half in my lap, legs tangled, our mouths moving lazy over each other.

The world outside doesn’t exist today.

It’s us, the ocean, the cry of gulls, the feel of Kai’s heartbeat against mine, and the quiet certainty that this, right here, is what I want for the rest of my life.