Butterflies erupted in her stomach as the idea of meeting newpeople dawned on her. That and the closing distance between her and Sylvie. What should she do? Should they hug? Not knowing whether to pick up from their chemistry-laden confession on Thursday night, she dipped her head, avoiding eye contact. If she didn’t make the first move, Sylvie would, and Ade could happily follow.
“Happy Christmas Eve.” Sylvie reached for Ade’s bulging rucksack. “Here, let me put that in the car.”
“Sure,” Ade said.
No kiss. No hug. But the warmth of her greeting was more than she’d reserve for just a friend. Its intimacy promised something, even if Ade couldn’t pin it down there and then. “Thank you. For the invitation, too. Thank you.”Smooth.
“I’m glad you came.” Sylvie held her gaze for a moment. “Let’s get going.”
Ade took the passenger seat, glad of a reason to face forward and avoid eye contact while she steadied her heart rate. She had no idea which route they’d take from here, but for once, the road ahead didn’t cloud her mind. Ade lingered on the unfinished kiss which hung between them, and she breathed in the frisson of expectation in the air, like either could turn and make it right at any moment.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to message you,” Sylvie said, putting her sunglasses on.
Ade tapped her foot in the well of the car. “I was wondering if I’d done something wrong on Thursday night.”
Sylvie’s flicked her gaze toward her. “Not at all.” She took a deep breath. “It was a mis?—”
“A mistake?” Ade’s fears manifested, and she regretted making the journey just for Sylvie to let her down.
“No. A missed opportunity.” Sylvie smiled. “Relax, Ade. I wanted to kiss you. Badly. I just didn’t want to have to explain myself immediately to my boss. Our timing was off, that’s all.” She looked into Ade’s eyes. “But I’m glad you’re here now.”
Ade’s muscles eased, and she melted into the seat. “I wanted to kiss you too.” She ran her hands across her hair, pulling at her frustration. Her desire didn’t belong in the past tense. It was here and now.
Their sighs met in the middle. Sylvie rested her hand for a second on Ade’s thigh, but it was back on the steering wheel and gone too quickly. It was like everything practical and logical conspired against their lips meeting.
“Tell me about what I’m walking into,” Ade said. “You know I’m prone to shyness around strangers.”
“I know.” Sylvie nodded. “I don’t want you to feel any pressure to perform or be anything but yourself around these guests. Elda and Charlie are good friends, and their little boys, Elijah and Arlo, are pretty special.”
“Where did you meet?” Ade needed concrete details that she could bolt herself to like an anchor.
“Elda and I worked in Paris together very briefly. She was teaching art and English in my department, but she had to go back to England because she’d fallen in love with Charlie, even though she was kidding herself and everyone else about it.” Sylvie filled their shared space with her laughter. “She’ll deny it, but if it wasn’t for me, they’d still be frustrated best friends.”
“And Charlie? What’s she like?”
“An esteemed barrister in family law. I like her a lot.” Sylvie turned left into a narrow lane. “Elijah is five, and Arlo is three.” She poked Ade’s thigh gently. “You’re going to love them.”
Ade settled enough to enjoy Sylvie’s profile and the softness of her cheek. Her gaze swept down Sylvie’s body. What she’d give to lay her hands on Sylvie, to feel the heat of her body through the fabric of her clothes.
“We’re here,” said Sylvie.
Too soon. Too soon.
Ade’s nerves didn’t ease after the introductions were made. She gripped her spinning ring so hard, she worried it might buckle under her fingertips.
“How’s the French way of life?” Elda asked, setting her wriggly three-year-old down on the tiled floor.
Ade considered her response. “There’s so much paperwork for everything and too many people smoke. Including Sylvie, although she tries to hide it.”
“Guilty as charged.” Sylvie dipped her head, but Ade caught the glint in her eye.
“I’ve been trying to get Sylvie to quit smoking for years,” Elda said. “If you manage it, you’re a better person than I am.”
“That wouldn’t make me a better person, just a more convincing one,” said Ade.
The falseness of Elda and Charlie’s laughter rang with an untruth. Ade resisted the urge to cover her ears with her hands. She caught a frown pass between them, sign of a judgment.
Had she messed up already?
