Page 42 of The Pairing

“Oh, merci,” I say, taking the orange. “I—sorry, je ne parle pas français.”

“Ah.” A pucker appears between her pretty brows. “No English.”

She says something else in French, and Kit shifts closer.

“She was saving this one for you,” Kit translates, looking at me. “She’s happy she got to see you again.”

“Oh! Moi aussi!” I turn from her to Kit. “Can you tell her that I loved the cherries?”

Kit translates dutifully. “She says—ah—she says she thought you would like them because they’re beautiful, and so are you.”

“Oh yeah? Tell her I’d buy anything from her.”

He does, and when she answers, he translates, “You should come back to the market tomorrow, then.”

“I’m leaving tomorrow, but I have all night.”

Kit translates, and Juliette answers, but he doesn’t take his eyes off me for the entire exchange. It’s almost like he’s asking for himself when he translates, “What do you want to do that will take all night?”

I look directly into his eyes and say, “Something I’m verygood at.”

For a second, Kit’s face goes completely immobile. Then he lets out a laugh that’s all breath.

“You know what, I don’t think I’m needed here anymore,” he says, holding his hands up.

Juliette and I laugh, which doesn’t need any translation. As everyone begins to collapse into the sand, I find myself sideways on a flower-patterned towel with my head in Juliette’s lap. Kit falls on the other side of the circle with Paloma, talking quietly in the lantern light and sharing the last mouchous.

It feels so natural here, like we’re among our people. Right now, I can imagine us here forever. Theo-and-Kit side-by-side in Saint-Jean-de-Luz. A perfect hyphenate daisy chain. We could have neighboring apartments down the street from Paloma’s and lunches of cheese and fruit from the market. I would swim in the bay every morning, and Kit would go out to the mountains every weekend to sketch plants. We could become best friends again, spend the rest of our lives together.

I realize I’ve never felt this comfortable before, outside of the Valley. I didn’t know it was possible.

My phone buzzes from my hip pack: another email from Schnauzer Bride. I ignore it and open my texts instead, replying to Sloane’s message from this morning.

you know all those times you said i need to get out of the valley?I type.maybe you were onto something . . .

When I’m done, I look up in time to see Kit take Paloma’s face in his hand.

It’s a gentle, exploratory touch, his fingers lacing into the hair at her nape. His thumb brushes her jaw. She’s still for a moment, and then her hand covers his.

His gaze shifts away from her face, to mine.

It’s fleeting, but I catch it. The question in his eyes. The genuine need. It’s a fair trade for earlier, with Juliette. He wants me to watch.

He leans forward and kisses her.

I go under.

In the moment of suspension after the plunge, we’re everywhere. A hundred thousand memories of a hundred thousand touches circle like shoals of little iridescent fish. Kit’s lips against the bridge of my nose. Kit holding the side of my face in the laundry detergent aisle. A slice of cake on a bad day and Kit’s apron smeared with buttercream, a grateful kiss to each of his fingertips. Passed dishes, stolen covers, a thumbprint of strawberry juice on my chin. My hand pinning his shoulder to the wall, his mouth livid and wet and starving. The way he kissed me at the kitchen table the first morning we were honest.

Air runs out. I kick to the surface.

Up here, he’s still kissing Paloma, and my head is still in Juliette’s lap, and we’re friends again. Just friends, just barely.

I sit up and pull Juliette’s mouth to mine.

It’s easy to kiss her. So smooth and sweet and uncomplicated. She puts her hand on the side of my neck and kisses back, and I slip my tongue into her mouth and taste nectar and buttery bread. There’s nothing hidden here, just pure curiosity and desire, no sense memories to flood my body or ghosts to stick in my throat, and it’s nice, isn’t it? Is this what Kit felt? Is he watching the way I watched him?

I open my eyes to see for myself, but his spot in the sand is empty. When I scan the beach, I can’t find him or Paloma anywhere.

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