Page 45 of The Last Kiss
“With all your one-night stands?”
He smiles into his glass. “Now you are asking leading questions.”
“And…”
“You were the one who said, ‘No names.”
“I did.” Slut move 101. “Not my usual modus operandi.”
That smile grows into a smirk. “And neither is it for I to be unchivalrous.”
“With your one-night stands?” I go there again, just because it feels good. Our eyebrows match one another in a battle of the arc. “So, I’m Juliette?”
Her name sounds dangerous on the tip of my tongue.
“To me, yes.” His smile falters into seriousness and my heart splutters with it.
“Who does that make you?”
He shrugs. “Juliette’s Romeo?”
“They both die.” It’s meant to sound light-hearted, but it doesn’t.
Another shrug.
We both sip our wine.
“What time is your train?”
He glances at his watch. “An hour ago.”
“Oh.” My mouth dries.
He shakes his head as if to say, no big deal. “So, Juliette, tell me about satirical newspapers.”
My cheeks flush. “I can’t believe you remembered that.”
“I can’t believe you’re surprised.” Ugh, this man. Everything he says rings like a poem.
“What else do you remember?”
His gaze burns down to the marrow in my bones. “Everything.”
“Me too.”
“So, tell me. Newspapers.”
Roll me in those r’s because they sound like heaven.
“Well, it’s kinda boring.”
He snorts. “Kinda boring. That’s no way to live life.”
Too late she cried.
“Well, it’s not really what I thought I would be doing now.”
“Non?”
