Page 100 of Why Cheese?
“And…?”
“And he told me he understood. But he was just being nice.”
Roq quirks his head. “Why can’t love be nice?”
“I don’t know. It’s just what people say. I guess. Cam, then.”
“Camembert.” There’s no hiding a flush of anger, regret, and love as Roq says his name. “He is a liar by trade and a heartbreaker by passion. But he’s tried neither with you. If anything, you’ve turned him into a warrior of truth. Thank you so much for that.”
I wince at my actions causing this blowup, but I shake my head. “Do you really think it was just me?”
“I suppose not. He was right, this was a long time coming. God, I hate it when he’s right. Smug ass.” Roq’s accent flits out with that, causing me to giggle.
Without thought, I spin the bottle around and around. Cam can’t love me. Or Brie, or even Cheddy. Not really. They need me to survive. That’s not love. But they missed me, and I missed them more than I thought possible. “Then there’s you.”
“Aye, then there’s me.” Roq lays back against the beam, but he doesn’t let me go. If anything, he holds me tighter as his eyes close.
“It’s okay. I understand if you’re mad at me.”
“Mad?” He looks perplexed, his mouth agape. Roq’s brow crinkles, and he sighs. “I suppose I’ve been doing all I can to keep you an arm’s distance. Knowing that we’ll have to part and never see you again… It will break their hearts, and I thought if I stayed away, mine would be spared.”
Guilt pounds in my chest. I don’t want to break anyone. Then I play back his words. “You thought?”
He laughs and draws a single, long finger down my cheek. “I told you.” Roq cups under my jaw, eyes shining in the darkness and I sit taller. As he leans closer, he whispers, “I’m a failure.”
His lips touch mine and I’m adrift in a solitary boat rocking on an ocean of tears. Then he parts his mouth and his heat ensnares me. The boat falls through the sky until I land on a bed of a thousand blankets. They curl around me, just like Roq’s arms, holding me safe and telling me that I’m safe. That I’m wanted.
That I’m lo—
“Wait.” It tears my heart to break the kiss. I place my shaking hand on his chest and turn away. “You can’t want this. I’m…broken.”
He draws his hand through my hair, causing the pink tips to sway. I was so excited when I dyed my hair thinking I finally found my place, only for my mother to call me a sugary whore. I wanted to chop them off, but she said I had to grow it out as punishment so I’d never forget what I did. Instead of recoiling, Roq combs through the pink ends and curls them around his fingers.
“You are Violette. A woman of ferocious tenacity even in the face of the…weird and unknown. A generous spirit and fairer heart, with eyes of a wild thunderstorm over the fields of southern France. And your lips…” He brushes my hair so it tickles against my mouth and I nearly laugh. “I’m afraid I will have to leave the rest of the poetry to Cam. I’m awful at it. You are not broken.”
“I have invasive thoughts. I do stupid things I know are stupid just to appease them for a few hours.”
“Dented then,” Roq says. “A little bruise in the clay that tells the hand this mug was made with passion and love.”
“I feel more like a mug without a handle. It’s too much work to drink from.”
“For some, sure. There is no accounting for taste, after all. Not all can see the beauty in what’s before them.” Cupping my face in his hands, he brushes his thumbs under my cheekbones as if he’s tracing those dents. “You’re worth the occasional scalded finger, Miss Reely.”
I smile at the sentiment. Even if he’s planted a tiny seed, it has to fight off the weeds of experience to bloom into anything beautiful. There are far bigger problems than my self-esteem to contend with. “Roq… I wish I could stay here, but—”
“I know.” He traces my face once more, then lets me go. “I know.”
“It’ll be dawn soon,” I whisper, peering out to the darkened street. “We should find them, save them before…”
He drops me, his hands falling open-palmed to his lap. “I thought it would work. If a perfect cheese created this mess then a second one would free us.”
I place my hand in his, then I take his fingers. “Perhaps it still could,” I say. “But first…” Grunting, and with all my strength, I help Roq rise to his feet. He wobbles and slams a hand to the counter to remain steady.
I lock my arm around his waist, and he holds my shoulder. “I need to get my friends back,” Roq declares. “They may be more willing to listen if you accompany me. Would you come with?”
My mother will be waking soon. If she finds her room empty, I’ll never hear the end of it. She might lock me in a tower so I never see the light of day.
I smile up at Roq with my whole heart. “Gladly.”
