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Couldshe do it?She’dnever had a one-night-stand before.Ithad always seemed too risqué for her.Plusshe believed that she needed an emotional connection to take pleasure in sex.Wouldshe enjoy making love without the love part?Ifyou never try, you’ll never know, she always told her class.Maybeshe should follow her own advice.
Butfirst, she had to turn that frown upside down.
‘Doyou ever smile?’Shedropped the glass on a nearby coffee table and reached out with both pointer fingers.Timeslowed as she poked them into the corners of his down-turned lips and pushed them upwards.
Heregarded her with flat eyes as she manhandled his face. ‘Whatare you doing?’
Sheretracted her fingers and stepped closer to him. ‘Justchecking the muscles worked.’Shesmelled the subtle scent of his cologne: woodsy and spicy.Masculine.Completelythe opposite ofKrish, who always smelled a bit too lemony for her liking.
‘Why?’
‘SoIcan do this.’Jesslaunched herself at the man, taking his head between her hands, and plonking her lips onto his.Sheexpected him to pull her towards him passionately—Frenchmenwere always up for it, right?—but instead, he placed his hands on her hips and pushed away.
‘Idon’t think so.’
Embarrassmentrushed through her.Whatseemed like a great plan only a second ago, now revealed itself to be the worst idea ever.Whathad she just done—accosting this poor stranger like a pigeon in heat?Shedidn’t even know his name.Ordid she?
‘I’m-I’msorry.’Shecovered her eyes with her hands.Maybeif she didn’t look, then it didn’t happen.
Hehad already started backing towards the door. ‘MuchasIapplaud your spontaneity science fair project,I’mnot sureIwant to beExhibitA.SoI’mgoing to saybonne nuitand…Isuggest you take some painkillers before you hit the sack.Havea wonderful time inParis.’
Withthat, he departed, and the lock clicked closed.Jesshad never seen a man run away from her so fast.
Bloodrushed to her face and she bonked her fist against her forehead. ‘Jess, you idiot!’Thiswas why she didn’t like getting drunk.Itmade her act out of character and do stupid things.She’ddefinitely remember that for next time.
SheblamedKrish.Herheart clenched at the thought of him, still acclimating to the fact that he would no longer be in her life.Shemissed him.Andshe hated him.Andshe loved him.Tonight, they were supposed to be having dinner at some over-pricedFrenchrestaurant on theSeine.Instead, she’d gone to a flea market, ateSteakFritesto line her stomach, and then drowned her sorrows in cheap wine.
Speakingof her stomach, it decided to add to her problems, as nausea climbed through her torso up towards her mouth.Herheart may have wanted two bottles of wine, but her stomach had not been consulted.
Almostas fast asGabrielhad backed out of the flat,Jessbolted for the toilet.
Ahot beamof morning sunlight tickledJess’snose.
Shegroaned and peeked at her watch.
Scratchthat.Ahot beam ofafternoonsunlight tickledJess’snose.Itwas already 1PM.
Jessswore and threw off her covers.Noway she would waste another minute inParis.Sheleapt out of bed and immediately regretted it.Thedizziness hit her fast, and she had to grab a chair to remain standing.Shefroze for a minute, waiting for her swirling head to settle.Shenoticed the box containingPierre’sremnants and had a vague memory of knocking him off a table.PoorPierre.Shenarrowed her eyes atFrancescatheWitch, sitting whole and undamaged next to the box.Thedesire to tip the witch onto the floor momentarily occupied her, but she pushed it aside.Theceramic was innocent.Jesswasn’t sure why she’d even bought it—probably the same human instinct for self-torture that motivated people to listen to sad songs after a break-up.
Herdizziness abated, andJesswas amazed to realise that she didn’t have a throbbing headache, a small miracle because she never usually drank that much alcohol.Twelvehours of sleep, gallons of water, and the painkillers she’d taken before bed seemed to have helped her dodge the hangover bullet.Herstomach growled, reminding her that it had been empty for some time.
She’dcome off lightly from her heartbreak-induced bender, with a broken pig as the only collateral damage.Well, she could check getting drunk inParisoff of her bucket list and move on toactual tourist activities.Shewas determined to have some new experiences on this trip.Keepingbusy was the order of the day, so she didn’t have time to think about what she’d be doing ifKrishwere here, or whether she’d always been second best in his heart.Sheshook her head to dislodge the negative thoughts.
Desperatefor hydration, she stepped towards the kitchenette, and a memory shoved into her mind.Aman.Saltand pepper hair.Glassesof water.Cheekbonesto die for and a sensual mouth.Kissinghis soft, but unyielding lips and the faint taste of cognac.
Herstomach dropped and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut. ‘Ohmy god,Jess.Youidiot.’
Whowas that man?Inher head, flashes of her interactions with him assailed her, ending with the poor man backing away from her, eyes averted, like her hair had turned to snakes.Howutterly horrifying.
Whomeverhe was, she appreciated his help.Shehad been stupid to drink so much in a strange city, and she was well aware that it had been a bad idea.
Ifshe ever saw him again, she’d thank him.
Butshe hoped she’d never see him again.
Inthe kitchenette, she poured herself a glass of water and glugged it down.Withher bottom leaning against the counter, she surveyed the bijou flat that she had rented for six nights after extending her return date fromSundaytoThursday.Shedidn’t have to be at school to set up her classroom until next week, so why rush back?Therewas nobody waiting for her there.
Herheart pinched with sadness.Shewondered for the millionth time what she had done wrong and whyKrishhad dumped her for another woman.Andfor the millionth time, no answers came to her.Eventhough he was apologetic and explained that his feelings forFrancescawere irrepressible, she still wondered if she could have done something to keep himwith her.Maybethat time he asked if he could tie her to the bed during sex, she should have said yes.Givenit a go.
