Page 40 of My Lucky Star
I nodded vigorously. “It is! I think... if I lived under as much scrutiny as you do, I would rebel too. I thought I wanted success and fame and everything that comes with it, but maybe I didn’t wanteverything. Maybe I couldn’t handle everything.”
Cem’s gaze swept to my feet. “There’s a lot in my life I didn’t sign up for, but... I wasn’t born rich. I remember what I had before, what I didn’t have. When you’re so much luckier than most, it feels really shitty to complain.”
I instinctively touched his chin, lifting it up. “You’re allowed to complain,” I argued, anger welling in my chest, even if I was a bit distracted by the texture of his beard. Rougher than expected. Real.
He caught my two fingers, squeezing them inside his fist. “Trust me. Nobody wants to hear the rich and famous complain.”
“Well, you’re not that famous around here, and the rich in New Zealand complain all the time. They’re like the loudest people group.”
Cem huffed in amusement. He let go of my fingers and grabbed my entire hand, leading me back to the path between the vines, toward the restaurant. “I like not being famous around here. You might be right about the freedom. It’s pretty amazing.”
As we reached the restaurant, I froze. “The photos! We didn’t take any photos!”
Cem looked equally shocked. “How did we forget? That’s so weird!”
I raised a brow, my cheeks pulsing with heat as my mind returned to the culprit – the kiss. “Is it? I forgot my middle name out there.”
“Grace!” Cem yelled victoriously, grinning from ear to ear.
“Thanks.”
“Should we go back to that tree? For the sake of photography.” Cem’s eyes flicked to the vineyard and his lips curved.
My insides sloshed like they’d liquified. In that moment, I knew it with absolute certainty. There couldn’t be a second kiss. He might not be able to stop, and since I clearly had zero restraint... I wouldn’t survive it.
“Let’s grab a couple of pics right here.” I gestured at the dreamy view of the vineyard. “We can always say we were waiting for the right lighting conditions.”
The sun had dipped closer to the horizon, painting the scenery in its golden glow, offering us exactly that. Perfect lighting. Annoyingly perfect.
Cem lifted his phone and coaxed me to him, closer and closer until I leaned on his chest. His heart pounded against my back, echoing inside my ribcage, distracting me with its beat.
“Kiss me?” He angled the phone to capture both of us in the frame.
Steeling my nerves, I reached to press my lips where his beard tapered off on his cheek, waiting for him to snap the photo, but he turned his head, aligning his lips with mine. I jerked back.
“What is it?” He whipped his head left and right, as if expecting to find the reason for my reaction.
“There’s no paparazzi,” I said. “But I don’t think we should do that again.”
“Was it not...good?” His eyes glinted, examining mine. He knew I couldn’t deny it. Even the tree couldn’t deny it. The air sizzled between us.
I forced my voice to neutral. “It was satisfactory. A solid eight out of ten.”
His face fell momentarily until he noticed the smile hiding behind my eyes. “Eight out of ten? Not even nine? Nine and a half?”
I couldn’t stop my grin from bursting out. I lifted my fingers as if counting. “Okay. It was a twelve, but please don’t let it go to your head. I’m glad it was a fifteen though, because if you’re going to kiss someone only once, it should be a seventeen or higher. And now... lucky me, I have a memory of a kiss that was nineteen out of ten.” I whipped up my fingers faster and faster, counting like a deranged preschooler.
Cem didn’t laugh. “Memory? You’re collecting memories here?” His eyes held confusion, laced with hurt.
He couldn’t be hurt, I argued. This was supposed to be funny.
I powered on, committing to my skit. “Yes! The memory of our twenty-five out of ten kiss will keep me warm in my old age when I retire from location scouting to spend time with my... budgies.” I shrugged. “I haven’t figured out what kind of pets I’ll devote my twilight years to, but that thirty out of ten kiss will take the place of honor in my memory palace and I’ll guard it—”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” He growled, then coughed up a frustrated laugh, his hands rubbing his temples as if I’d given him a headache. I probably had.
I swallowed the stupid jokes I evidently had an endless supply of and looked for the right words. Words that tasted like chalk. “I’m saying, you’re right, this can’t be anything real. So, let’s not pretend it is. I know you’re from a different universe.”
“Aria, we both live on Planet Earth.”
