Page 31 of The Season
“But then after I broke up with my last boyfriend, I haven’t felt anything. No attraction or whatever you call it. I’ve fooled around, tried kissing girls… I…uh, slept with some guys…” I wince, because saying it out loud, it doesn’t sound great. “I wasn’t really attracted to any of them though.”
This last admission comes out heavy with guilt and barely louder than a whisper.
I’d tried. I’d really tried. They’d all been such nice guys. Hot, too. Fun to hang out with. But there had been nothing.
“Oh, sweetie.” Seth’s voice is thick with sympathy, and he pauses his track down the length of my spine, instead trailing soothing caresses along the sides of my arms, like someone calming an injured animal.
“I know.” I mumble in agreement against the couch. “I shouldn’t have led them on like that, right?”
Someone gives a pained groan above me—Antoine, maybe—though I don’t know what that’s about.
“No… what?” Seth’s hands still against my arms, his fingers tightening almost imperceptibly. “That wasn’t your fault. You know that wasn’t your fault, right?”
My brow furrows, the movement causing the bruised skin around my eyes to scream in protest.
“He’s right,ma puce.” Antoine’s voice catches in his throat, and then a tentative hand settles against the top of my head, stroking my hair back from my face, tucking the loose, damp strands behind my ear. “You can’t force attraction.Tu le sais, n’est-ce pas? You said you read this book,non?” His other fingers tap against his book, and I can’t help the rueful chuckle that escapes my lips.
“Yah, I read it. But that was a romance novel.”
“Et quoi, romance novels aren’t a good example of relationships in real life?” He retorts, accent deepening.
“That was analienromance,” I point out. “And Captain Charleswasn’tattracted to Aehaeko for at least the first third of the book.”
Probably because Aehaeko was a male, and Charles had been straight—or at least, had thought he was. That, and Aehaeko was an alien.
“Exactement,” Antoine argues, his fingers twining in my hair, like maybe he’s playing with the loose strands without really thinking about what he’s doing. “But then he was, and he thought he was going insane, or that he’d been poisoned by eating alien food, when really, it was just the bond that had formed between them. The friendship, the trust…”
I can’t help but smile at the passion in Antoine’s voice, and I wish I could see his face. If I could, I bet those beautiful green eyes would be burning like the revolutionary fires that light up Parisian streets each time some politician tries to cut back on paid vacation days.
“Okay, I have to read this book,” Seth laughs, his hands finding their way back to my aching muscles.
“Ouais. You do,” Antoine agrees, full of the smugness of someone who has just won an argument.
“Maybe Antoine will read it to us,” I say teasingly, but even as I say it, I have to admit that would be wonderful. Antoine’s voice is deep and vibrant, lilting playfully when he cares about something. I bet listening to him read in French would be incredible.
“Oh, good idea,” Seth agrees vehemently, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “Can you read us the first chapter?”
Antoine sighs dramatically, then untangles his fingers from my hair. For a brief moment, my heart sinks at the sudden absence of his touch, but then there’s the sound of pages turning as he opens his book, another huffed sigh, and then he begins.
Antoine reads like someone trained in public speaking—which, if he went to the sort of school I’m guessing he did, he probably was. His voice carries the story along, inflection and tone moving like water, and even though I’ve read the story before, I feel like it’s completely new, hearing it in French instead of English.
When Seth climbs off me, repositioning himself so that he’s sitting under my legs, and starts massaging my aching calves and feet, I can’t help but think that moving in here might have been the best decision I’ve ever made.
Chapter9
Seth
“She’s fallen asleep, hasn’t she?” Antoine drops his book to his lap, his voice laced with a mixture of amusement and irritation. “After begging me to read to her, she fell asleep, just like that. Can you believe it?”
I chuckle, and hug the lower half of Lily’s legs against my chest. The cadence of her gentle snores fills the dimly lit living room, mingling with the hum of the refrigerator and the sound of the other guys snoring down the hall. They’re homely sounds that make my throat ache with longing, even as something like satisfaction expands in my chest.
“I don’t blame her,” I say, turning to smile at Antoine. “She must be exhausted after training, and you know what it’s like after you get an injury. Plus, I do give excellent massages.” I can’t help but give Antoine a wink at this, watching as his cheeks darken with color.
“I’ll take your word for it,” he says dryly, shoulders stiffening. “I don’t really like massages.”
I lift a brow, but don’t say anything. Everyone likes massages, being touched, cared for, loved. I don’t think Antoine is any different. I take a breath, basking in the feel of Lily’s legs resting on top of my own, wanting to prolong the moment.
But of course, I can’t.
