Isla and the Happily Ever After
Page 21
“Oh, I’m fine. I like the chill.”
But he’s already on his knees, removing his coat. He swings it up and around my shoulders, and the weight of it stuns me in more ways than one. My body weakens with lust. The coat smells like citrus and ink and him.
“I saw you that next night,” he says.
“Huh?” My eyes open. “What night?”
“Last summer. I went back to the café at midnight the next night, and I saw you there. I knew it was a long shot, but…I had this feeling you might be there. And you were.”
I know that feeling. I had that feeling. “Why didn’t I see you?”
“I never went inside. I saw you through the window, and you…”
“I was with Kurt,” I finish.
“So I kept walking. I felt like such an idiot. If only I’d known, I wish I’d known. You’d been so funny and flirty, and—”
“Flirty?”
“Yeah.” He grins. “I could kinda tell you liked me.”
“Ohmygod.” I’m mortified.
“No! It was cute. Trust me, it was really, really cute.”
“Yeah, nope. I want to die now, thanks.”
“No. I’m serious. I always liked you, but I thought you didn’t like me. You would never talk to me. So I didn’t think you were even an option, and then I got together with Rashmi, and that was that. But I realized last summer that you’re just shy.”
Back up, back up, back up. “You always liked me?”
“A supersmart hot girl who reads comics? Are you kidding? You were definitely on my radar.”
Hot. I’ve been upgraded to hot. No one has ever called me hot. Cute? Yes. Adorable? Yes, often, and it makes me want to punch them. I didn’t know short girls could even be hot. I thought I’d been permanently relegated to elfin-pixie-child status.
“Well, bloody noses.” I hug his coat tighter. “Those are definitely hot.”
Josh buries his head in his hands. He moans. “I can’t believe I did that.”
“I believe the laws of physics did that.”
“And my chin.”
I laugh. “But until that last part, it was pretty great, right? I mean, we had actual fireworks. Talk about a credits-rolling, happily-ever-after kind of a kiss.”
“If only I could take credit for those.”
“You know…you can always try again.”
He raises his head. “Setting off fireworks?”
“A second first kiss.”
“I think that’s just called a second kiss.”
I bump my knees against his. “Are you seriously going to make me ask again?”
“Um. No.” Josh quickly leans forward.
“Unless.” I put a hand on his chest. “Are you sure? Because. If you don’t want?”
He smiles. “You’re ruining our second first kiss.”
“I just…wanted to make sure,” I say.
“I’m sure.” But he stops before he reaches me. “Wait. Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.”
“Okay. So we’re both sure.” Josh smiles again. He places one hand on each side of my face. His fingers are cold, but I warm beneath their touch. We stare at each other for several seconds. His smile fades, and then, slowly, he leans over and kisses me.
It’s a gentle kiss, lips slightly parted. Soft.
Josh pulls back a few inches. He studies my forehead. My cheeks. My chin, my ears, my nose, my lips.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I wanted to know what you look like up close.”
“Oh.” It comes out like a breath.
“You have freckles on your eyelids,” he says.
I close my eyes, and he kisses them – one delicate kiss on each lid. His nose trails down the side of mine, and his mouth comes to a rest above my own. My arms wrap around the back of his neck. Our lips meet with more urgency. More exploration. We kiss until it can no longer be called kissing, it’s definitely making out, as his hands slide underneath the coat and around my waist.
We sink into the blanket.
Our fingers are in each other’s hair, and his breath is in the hollow of my neck, and I wish the world would swallow us here, whole, in this moment. And that’s when it hits me that this – this – is falling in love.
Chapter eleven
We kiss on the stairs, on the streets of the Right Bank, on the bridge over the Seine, on the streets of the Left Bank. We kiss until our mouths are sore and our lips are numb. It’s so intense that I don’t realize my feet are blistered until we’re only a few blocks away from the dorm. I pop off my heels on the steps of Saint-Étienne-du-Mont, a church across from the Panthéon, and release a pained hiss of relief.
“Blisters and a bloody nose.” Josh sits down beside me. “This went well.”
I smile and kiss him again.
“Those shoes are insane,” he says.
I wiggle my red feet. “Maybe they were a bit much.”
“Your footwear tends to run on the exceedingly tall side. You know we all know you’re short, right? It’s not, like, a secret.”
“Hush.”
“I like that you’re tiny. I like that I could carry you around in my pocket.”
I shove his arm with my shoulder. “I said hush.”
“And if we ever vacation together, you can sit on my lap to save airfare.”
I shove him harder, and he laughs. He tries to push me back, but I’m faster, and he tumbles against the steps. He laughs even harder. I do, too. “You deserve that,” I say.
“And now I’ll pay my penance.” Josh jumps to the ground and faces his backside towards me. “Get on.”
“What?”
“You can’t walk in those shoes, and the streets are covered in broken glass.”
“I’m sorry. Are you offering me a piggyback ride?”
He sighs in fake exasperation. “Will you just get on already?”
“Just because I’m short doesn’t mean that I don’t weigh anything.”
“Just because I’m skinny doesn’t mean that I can’t carry someone short. You’re what, five one?”
“Yeah.” I’m surprised that he guessed it exactly. “What are you?”
But he’s already on his knees, removing his coat. He swings it up and around my shoulders, and the weight of it stuns me in more ways than one. My body weakens with lust. The coat smells like citrus and ink and him.
“I saw you that next night,” he says.
“Huh?” My eyes open. “What night?”
“Last summer. I went back to the café at midnight the next night, and I saw you there. I knew it was a long shot, but…I had this feeling you might be there. And you were.”
I know that feeling. I had that feeling. “Why didn’t I see you?”
“I never went inside. I saw you through the window, and you…”
“I was with Kurt,” I finish.
“So I kept walking. I felt like such an idiot. If only I’d known, I wish I’d known. You’d been so funny and flirty, and—”
“Flirty?”
“Yeah.” He grins. “I could kinda tell you liked me.”
“Ohmygod.” I’m mortified.
“No! It was cute. Trust me, it was really, really cute.”
“Yeah, nope. I want to die now, thanks.”
“No. I’m serious. I always liked you, but I thought you didn’t like me. You would never talk to me. So I didn’t think you were even an option, and then I got together with Rashmi, and that was that. But I realized last summer that you’re just shy.”
Back up, back up, back up. “You always liked me?”
“A supersmart hot girl who reads comics? Are you kidding? You were definitely on my radar.”
Hot. I’ve been upgraded to hot. No one has ever called me hot. Cute? Yes. Adorable? Yes, often, and it makes me want to punch them. I didn’t know short girls could even be hot. I thought I’d been permanently relegated to elfin-pixie-child status.
“Well, bloody noses.” I hug his coat tighter. “Those are definitely hot.”
Josh buries his head in his hands. He moans. “I can’t believe I did that.”
“I believe the laws of physics did that.”
“And my chin.”
I laugh. “But until that last part, it was pretty great, right? I mean, we had actual fireworks. Talk about a credits-rolling, happily-ever-after kind of a kiss.”
“If only I could take credit for those.”
“You know…you can always try again.”
He raises his head. “Setting off fireworks?”
“A second first kiss.”
“I think that’s just called a second kiss.”
I bump my knees against his. “Are you seriously going to make me ask again?”
“Um. No.” Josh quickly leans forward.
“Unless.” I put a hand on his chest. “Are you sure? Because. If you don’t want?”
He smiles. “You’re ruining our second first kiss.”
“I just…wanted to make sure,” I say.
“I’m sure.” But he stops before he reaches me. “Wait. Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.”
“Okay. So we’re both sure.” Josh smiles again. He places one hand on each side of my face. His fingers are cold, but I warm beneath their touch. We stare at each other for several seconds. His smile fades, and then, slowly, he leans over and kisses me.
It’s a gentle kiss, lips slightly parted. Soft.
Josh pulls back a few inches. He studies my forehead. My cheeks. My chin, my ears, my nose, my lips.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I wanted to know what you look like up close.”
“Oh.” It comes out like a breath.
“You have freckles on your eyelids,” he says.
I close my eyes, and he kisses them – one delicate kiss on each lid. His nose trails down the side of mine, and his mouth comes to a rest above my own. My arms wrap around the back of his neck. Our lips meet with more urgency. More exploration. We kiss until it can no longer be called kissing, it’s definitely making out, as his hands slide underneath the coat and around my waist.
We sink into the blanket.
Our fingers are in each other’s hair, and his breath is in the hollow of my neck, and I wish the world would swallow us here, whole, in this moment. And that’s when it hits me that this – this – is falling in love.
Chapter eleven
We kiss on the stairs, on the streets of the Right Bank, on the bridge over the Seine, on the streets of the Left Bank. We kiss until our mouths are sore and our lips are numb. It’s so intense that I don’t realize my feet are blistered until we’re only a few blocks away from the dorm. I pop off my heels on the steps of Saint-Étienne-du-Mont, a church across from the Panthéon, and release a pained hiss of relief.
“Blisters and a bloody nose.” Josh sits down beside me. “This went well.”
I smile and kiss him again.
“Those shoes are insane,” he says.
I wiggle my red feet. “Maybe they were a bit much.”
“Your footwear tends to run on the exceedingly tall side. You know we all know you’re short, right? It’s not, like, a secret.”
“Hush.”
“I like that you’re tiny. I like that I could carry you around in my pocket.”
I shove his arm with my shoulder. “I said hush.”
“And if we ever vacation together, you can sit on my lap to save airfare.”
I shove him harder, and he laughs. He tries to push me back, but I’m faster, and he tumbles against the steps. He laughs even harder. I do, too. “You deserve that,” I say.
“And now I’ll pay my penance.” Josh jumps to the ground and faces his backside towards me. “Get on.”
“What?”
“You can’t walk in those shoes, and the streets are covered in broken glass.”
“I’m sorry. Are you offering me a piggyback ride?”
He sighs in fake exasperation. “Will you just get on already?”
“Just because I’m short doesn’t mean that I don’t weigh anything.”
“Just because I’m skinny doesn’t mean that I can’t carry someone short. You’re what, five one?”
“Yeah.” I’m surprised that he guessed it exactly. “What are you?”
