Celine brought it closer to examine the words. “C'est le bon moment si c'est toi,” she read, and glanced up at him.It’s the right time if it’s you. “Bas—”
“Happy birthday, Celine,” he said, and gently worked the clasp around her wrist. The band fit perfectly.
It was possibly the only gift she would be using out of the pile that kept growing with every guest that arrived late to the party. Celine moved her wrist around, letting the watch catch a sliver of moonlight and reflect it right back. A smile graced her lips—the first genuine smile she had shown tonight.
“This is lovely, Bastien. Thank you.”
“If I had known gifts were the way to put a smile on your face, I would have given it to you earlier. Aren’t people supposed to be happy on their birthdays?”
Clicking her tongue, Celine cursed herself. She hadn’t expected anyone to find her out here, in the middle of a breakdown. She had forgotten to go back to that state of pretend-delight when Bastien had approached.
“How silly you are sometimes.” She tried to derail him. “Of course I am happy.”
“Really?” Quietly, Bastien draped his jacket over her shoulder, and Celine was engulfed in the warmth and the pleasant smell of tobacco and mint that always seemed to cling to his clothes. “Then why did you look like you were heading straight for the guillotine back there?”
Celine huddled into the jacket, sulking. All that effort straining the muscles of her face for hours had come undone within a minute of Bastien Ménard sitting next to her.
“Wow, no comebacks. Have you run out or are you planning on switching to physical combat, and push me into the fountain?” When Celine hid further into the jacket, he tried again, softer this time, “Are you alright?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Celine sensed her lungs contract at the lie. “Everything seems alright, everyone is celebrating—”
“I did not ask abouteveryone. I asked about you.”
She let out a shaky breath. “I’m fine, Bastien. Perfectly and thoroughly, fine.”
He looked far from convinced, but he dropped the subject. Slowly, his pinkie crept over hers where their hands rested on the marble lip, toying with the hairsbreadth space between them. His touch was faint, yet it was sending wild sparks up her arm.
Celine dragged her hand away and plunged her fingers into the fountain to cool them off. “Why didn’t you come inside?”
She had been waiting for him to make an appearance. She didn’t want to admit it, but for the first time, she wouldn’t have minded even if it was to create a scandal.
Bastien wasn’t of the same opinion apparently.
“And watch you kiss Jacques up close while you made a whole display of how you love him?” He retrieved his own hand and ran it through his hair, freeing the strands from the gel. “I wouldn’t be able to stand that, Celine.”
“Why?” She hadn’t meant to, but the question carried a bitter bite. Her fingers started forming violent ripples in the water. “What’s that got to do with you?”
“Plenty,” he said quietly.
Plenty.
Silence settled thickly over them, invaded only by the sound of silver water droplets trickling into the fountain. Sitting side by side, they watched the white geraniums tremble in the breeze.They seemed intent on ignoring the issue arising between them for as long as they could.
They were failing miserably. Celine kept checking to see if Bastien was still there, Bastien kept stealing glances and hastily turning his head away when Celine would catch him.
She sighed. “We shouldn’t have kissed again. You wanted to be friends. That’s not the way to do it.”
Bastien raised a brow. “You reckon so?” Leaning back on his hands, he stared ahead. “I don’t regret it.”
“Of course you don’t. Look at you—you’re practically gloating. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was written in capital letters in your evil plan’s blueprint: KISS CELINE.”
“Maybe,” he smirked, and it was nothing short of wicked delight. “That first kiss might have served a specific purpose. But the second one…” He tossed her a teasing glance. “I just wanted to kiss you again.”
He said it so nonchalantly that Celine had trouble determining if he was being genuine.
“Would you stop looking so surprised? It’s not as though I have never flirted with you.”
“Y-yes,” Celine stammered, admitting it. “To annoy Jacques. Not to—” she broke off, unsure what to name this thing between them. But that wasn’t right either. He had flirted with her even when Jacques wasn’t around. “Were you really flirting?”
