“Friends who kiss.”
“How did you—”
“There’s lipstick all over your face,” she said. “But no glitter. You always have showgirl glitter on you after meeting with what’s her name—Elana.” She hummed. “I fear you’ve jumped five steps ahead with your plan.”
“You ought to be a detective,” Bastien said wryly, prying his face away from her fingers and wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. “Those skills are being wasted on me.”
“Do not change the subject. Come on, spill it. You owe me a good story for doingthatto my lunch.” She pointed to the bucket where a few, sad pieces of noodles floated in the water.
Bastien shook his head. Juliana was the biggest busybody to exist in all of Paris, after Anaïs. He wondered what would happen if the two of them ever decided to run an underground gossip club together.
“We just…kissed, alright? It wasn’t part of my plan. It meant nothing the first time, it meant nothing this time. End of story.”
Juliana’s grin only intensified. Her eyes had gone wide with amusement. “This time?” she echoed. “Friends, my foot.” She prodded a finger into his ribs. “Talk. How did it happen?”
Bastien sighed. “You really are starved for entertainment, aren’t you?” She gave him a shrug. “Well, don’t get your hopes up. It was a two time thing and it is sure to have no repeats. She was just trying to get back at me for what I did at the masquerade, that’s all.”
To his surprise, his friend burst into a fit of laughter.
“What’s so funny now?”
“Shekissedyou? And you’re here, moaning about it? Insisting it was nothing?” With a flounce, Juliana threw her lithe body onto one of the chaises and continued cackling, kicking her stockinged feet in the air. “Oh, this Celine deserves an award.”
“By all means,” Bastien drawled indignant. “Take your time mocking me.”
Juliana started fanning herself in response, until the giggles died down. “I never thought this would happen to you.Tu vis enfin un amour non réciproque. It’s karma, you know.”
Bastien smacked the mop down in protest. “This is not a one-sided love. And karma isn’t real.”
“Right.”
“Why would it be? I have never been in love and I do not plan on being blinded by it any time soon.”
“Maybe,” she sprawled on her stomach and propped her chin on the crook of her palm. “But others have, with you in fact, and all you have done is juggle their hearts for a month or two, and then you have let them fall to the floor and crack like eggs.”
“First of all, I never commit to anyone for more than three weeks,” he corrected. “And second, that’s not my fault,” Bastien added flippantly. “Women have always loved their men dark and brooding, and as far as I’m aware, I check both boxes.”
Juliana rolled her eyes. “It’s that arrogance you are being punished for now.”
“Hey—”
“Complain all you want, but this is the plain truth: someone is finally juggling withyourheart and you can’t stand it. A one-sided love.”
Indignant, Bastien dipped the mop into the bucket again and watched the water turn murky. “Even if she was juggling with my heart—which she isn’t—it wouldn’t be a one-sided love. It’s not that she doesn’t want me back, it’s just that she is taken. So it’s an impossible love. Or a forbidden love. Or—”
Juliana’s menacing chuckle cut him off.
“I should have accepted that job as a secret agent. Then I would have had a recorder to save all the nonsense that just came out of your mouth. My God, she has your heart-strings all tied up.”
“Celine LeBeau is doing no such things with my heart!” he protested. “She is just…she…oh, forget it!”
Giving the floor one final swipe, Bastien unlatched the window and dumped the water into the draining pipe right underneath the sill. He returned the cleaning supplies inside the pantry. Then strode back to the kitchen, where he turned the faucet on, letting the cold water run over his hands, waiting for it to wash away all thoughts of Celine. Although there were things about her that nothing could ever erase, things that lingered like a phantom, day and night. Such as the notes of her perfume sticking to his clothes, or the feel of her skin when he held her hand to help her out of the car; the sensation her fingers brushing his as he’d hand over a ribbon, or when his teeth had greedily bit her lips because kissing hadn’t been enough.
Bastien closed his eyes and listened to the water trickle down the drain. He hadn’t a clue what had possessed him to kiss her again. If Madame LeBeau had caught them, she would’ve nodoubt chased Bastien out with a broom. But he hadn’t cared in that moment; not about the broom, or her mother, or Jacques; not about anything, other than how soft Celine’s lips were. How sweet her little gasps sounded to his ears. Surely, even Celine must have felt that the kiss had been different this time.
Bastien shuddered, turned off the tap, and strolled back into the living room.
“You don’t really think that I—that this is—that she—” He dropped on one of the chaises, resolved to find anything that would provide a distraction for a while. He picked up the shuffling of Juliana’s feet as she returned to the kitchen and started preparing lunch anew. A bag rustled. A knife cut through bread. The bottom of a plate grazed the counter.
