Page 65 of Lights, Camera, Love

‘Glowy?’ she echoes, blurting out half a laugh.

‘You light up the room, Evie. You shine. In a world full of moths.’

Her face dips with embarrassment, then flicks back up. ‘But you love moths,’ she says, glancing at my Picasso moth tattoo.

‘Just the cool-looking ones,’ I remind her.

A smile curls her lips. ‘Firefly, huh?’ She falls onto her back, flopping an arm behind her head. ‘You know, you’re not the only one who had a secret nickname going. Secret nicknames are kind of my thing, actually.’

‘Oh, yeah? You got one for me?’

‘Of course.’

I shift onto my side to stare at her, wondering if I really want to know this. ‘Hit me up then,’ I say. ‘Wait—no, let me guess. You’ve been calling me … Sugar Lips.’

She snorts.

‘What?’ I reply, feigning surprise. ‘You said you like my mouth.’ I push my bottom lip out into a pout, and Evie lets out a breath as she leans close to stamp a few kisses there.

After she settles onto her back again, I say, ‘Doll Face. That’s what you’ve been calling me.’

She chuckles and shakes her head.

‘Sweet Cheeks?’ I try. ‘Hot Stuff?Boss Man?’

She lightly whacks my arm. ‘Groucho,’ she says.

‘Groucho?’

She climbs onto my chest and lays over me like the world’s most priceless blanket, her chin nestled into her folded arms. ‘Oh, come on, you know you can be a bit of a grouch. Just last night, when you arrived at the party, you looked like you’d swallowed a cup of razor blades.’

I have to laugh. She’s not wrong.

‘After we met, it tookweeksfor you to actually smile at me,’ she continues. ‘Which is just as well, really. Your smile should come with a warning label. It should be registered as a lethal weapon by law, like the fists of professional fighters.’

I’ve got zero hope ofnotsmiling now.

Evie’s eyes sparkle. ‘Now, who’s beautiful,’ she says, reaching to trace her fingertips over my lips. I take hold of her hand and pull her thumb, with its almost-gnawed-off nail, closer to my face.

‘Why do you do this?’ I ask, frowning.

‘Bad habit. I don’t even realise I’m doing it most of the time.’

I bring her thumb to my mouth, pressing my lips to the angry-looking skin. Her fingers close around mine and mini fireworks burst between our palms.

‘So, who else do you have a rude nickname for?’ I tease. ‘Surely you’ve got a good one for Buzz.’

She chuckles and rests her cheek on my chest. ‘They’re not rude; they’re terms of endearment,’ she contends.‘But I usually only nickname my dance students. Buzz, though, would be … hmm. If you take his unbearable personality out of the equation, I would go with … Fellini,’ she decides. ‘He thinks he’s changing the world of filmmaking with every shot.’

A laugh pushes through my lips. ‘That or Flannel Moth. Tough call.’

‘Flannel moth?’ She gives me a quizzical glance.

With Evie still on my chest, I twist around to snatch my phone from the bedside table and bring up an image of a tiny caterpillar covered with a wild mane of reddish hair.

‘What the hell is that?’ Evie asks, squinting through her grin.

‘Duh, it’s Buzz.’

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