She cranes her neck to look at me. “Ha,” she says.
“What?”
“Your face is red. Case in point.”
“And what point is that?” I immediately regret the question.
“You and Étienne. There’s something more there. This is not just a ruse to make Jackson jealous. The way Étienne prowls around you…”
“Yeah, he’s like a lion sizing up prey,” I say wryly, tending to agree with her on this one.
Although not a lion, actually. Étienne’s more like a…leopard. Or a wolf.
She shakes her head, dismissing what I’ve said. “No, if he’s a predator, he’s in a cage, pacing back and forth. Sizing you up, sure, but warily. He doesn’t know how you might hurt him.”
I snort. “Okay, enough analogies.”
She laughs and I grin at her.
I do like her, I decide. She may be straight-talking, but it’s refreshing. I think we could be friends.
“Mellie keeps askingwhen you’re coming over to watchQueen of Speedwith us,” I say to Étienne when we find ourselves alone again.
The party has thinned out down here. Most people have gone upstairs—we’re in the showroom closest to his apartment. “Back to Friends” by sombr is playing over the sound system, which feels apt.
“You tell me,” he says.
“Monday night? Sevenish?”
He nods. “Okay.” His gaze drifts downward.
“You’ve been staring at my lips all night,” I say.
His eyes cut right back up to mine.
“It’s like when we were teenagers and you were focusing on trying to understand what I was saying.”
He smiles. “That’s not why I was staring at your lips.”
My stomach swoops. And then I’m giving him an answer to the question he asked me weeks ago.
“I liked you,” I admit.
His eyes narrow.
“Back then, ten years ago,” I tell him. “I really liked you. Iwantedyou. I kept you from Jackson, from Mellie, from all of them…I kept you a secret because you were mine. Just mine. I didn’t want my two worlds to come together, but not because I was embarrassed or ashamed or—”
He steps closer and puts his finger on my lips. I fall silent as he stares into my eyes.
“Je t’aimais aussi.I liked you also.Je te voulais aussi.”My scalp prickles as he says, in English, “I wanted you too.” And then he leans in close and whispers in my ear,“Je te veux.”
I want you.Present tense. And it needs no translation.
My heartbeat is erratic as his chest brushes mine. He skims his fingers along the back of my arm and I shiver as they reach my hand, giving it a small squeeze. I stare pointedly at his apartment and he backs up a step, sweeping his gaze over the showrooms as he gets his keys out of his pocket. He unlocks his door and I follow him inside, resting my back against it to push it closed, muffling the sounds of the party.
There’s barely an inch between our bodies as he closes the gap between us. His heat is intoxicating. I raise my chin and stare into his eyes—they’re as dark as I’ve ever seen them. We lock gazes for a long moment—and then he dips his head.
The room around me spins as our lips connect. His handsclutch my waist and mine fly to the hair at the nape of his neck. He presses me against the wall and I gasp into his mouth as our tongues collide. And then his hands are cupping the backs of my thighs and he’s lifting me. As I wrap my legs around his waist, he carries me across the room to his spiral staircase.
