Chapter 18
18
Kieran
The studio lights had come back into focus, and my lips still tingled after our kiss. For a moment, I’d forgotten everything, not just where we were but the mounting bills, my plans for medical school that had been put on hold, and how absolutely everything about Sybil drove me nuts, and I’d only thought of her lips and her skin and the way she smelled like springtime. Sybil opened her eyes, lids rising slowly to reveal a slightly dazed expression.
“Thank you for joining us, Sybil and Kieran,” Maria said, looking into the camera while I looked at Sybil. Her gaze was soft, her skin soft, her whole presence was soft, and heat rose on my face, something between embarrassment about kissing her live on camera and knowing how easy it was to forget everything else when I had the chance to get closer to her.
“Up next, winter salads to enjoy on these blustery days and what to look forward to this weekend around the metro area. Stay tuned.”
One of the crew announced we were clear, and the host thanked us, shaking both our hands and inviting us back for a follow-up.
Sybil linked her fingers with mine as the PA led us through the studio toward the exit.
“Okay,” she said, once we were outside and we pulled our hands apart. “That went well.”
Both our cars were on the other side of the lot, and we walked ahead, the wind blowing against us. “Thank God we don’t have to do that again.” My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I had missed texts from Lila, Tom, and Granddad.
Lila:
Tom: Well done, boy!
Granddad: Wow?
Granddad: I mean wpw!
Granddad: I mean wowo
Granddad: dammit.
“It wasn’t so bad.” She glanced over her shoulder and winked. “I think that kiss added some believability. Will you tell me who taught you to kiss so I can send them a thank-you note? Or buy them a thank-you Tesla?”
I rolled my eyes, even though the joke wasn’t bad. My phone buzzed again, a reminder that my granddad and Tom thought this was real. “It was humiliating, and who knows how large their audience is? No more of this on video, right?”
She stopped walking for a moment, and I saw the way her face fell, her smile faltering, an honest disappointment shading her expression. “Sure.” She nodded resolutely as if to underline the promise. “No more kissing in public.”
We walked again toward our cars in silence, something that didn’t feel right with Sybil beside me. “And thank you.” I pulled my keys from my pocket. “I know I can be a jerk, and I do appreciate the help with promoting the shop, but no more public appearances, right?” I was adding more before I realized what I was saying and how much I was admitting. “It just makes me feel really anxious, and I don’t want to mess it up.”
She nodded. “No more TV—you told them I was working at the shop, though.”
I blanched. Perhaps a testament to that kiss, because I’d forgotten all about it—the PA overhearing us, getting questioned about it; and it wasn’t Sybil who’d let something slip, it was me.
“I actually kind of like the idea,” she said, the lightness returning to her voice. “I don’t have a job, and I guess now I don’t need one, but I don’t know what to do with my time.” She looked at her hands. “And I’m free labor!”
I studied her, unable to ignore the way her expression changed when admitting she was kind of bored. “Have you ever worked in food service?”
Sybil laughed, not a light tinkle of a giggle but a hearty one that sounded like it started deep in her belly. “I’ve done it all, baby.” She ticked off on her fingers. “I was a waitress at Mama Puccini’s, I worked at Tastee-Freez, served at Hogtied Pizza and Barbecue, and three stints at fast-food places. I’m actually overqualified to volunteer in your shop.”
I narrowed my gaze. “Did you last more than three weeks in any of those jobs?”
She grinned, reading the joke in my tone, which made the corners of my lips tip up, too. “Shut up,” she said. “I didn’t need to look responsible and grounded when I held any of those jobs. No motivation, and no one was watching.”
“Okay,” I said, holding out my hand for a shake. “But when you want to quit, there’s nothing tying you to it. You can do it for a week and then move on.”
She reached for my hand. “We’ve only been in love for a few days. Are you trying to get rid of me already?”
Over her shoulder, I saw the PA walking across the lot and approaching us. Shit. I clasped Sybil’s outstretched hand and tugged her to me, my hand resting on her waist. Sybil yelped, and I ducked my lips to her ear. “We have an audience,” I whispered, hand sliding under her coat as she shifted to hear me, and my lip grazed her ear. “The PA is walking toward us.”
“Oh,” she murmured, relaxing against me and dragging her palm up my biceps to my shoulder. “And you wanted to give her another show?”
We were chest to chest, and her breath ran opposite mine, giving a push-and-pull effect between us when I tipped my head back to look at her. “I didn’t think a handshake sold the love story.”
Sybil’s lip quirked. “No, I guess not. Handshakes are really only appropriate immediately following one-night stands.”
“I didn’t get a handshake,” I said, my fingers against the smooth fabric of her dress under her coat as I fought the urge to stroke her back.
“I guess I always knew you’d be so much more than a one-night stand.” She tickled her fingers along the nape of my neck, and my body didn’t care if we were in public. She always touched me like we were on the precipice of something. “Is she gone?”
“Not yet,” I said. I couldn’t place Sybil’s scent—it was floral and sweet, but the only other word I could use to describe it would be “playful.” I’d never smelled anything like it before, and I dipped my lips to her ear again, taking the chance to inhale her intoxicating scent once more. “And it was Hannah Carson in the tenth grade after choir practice,” I said, tucking a curl that tickled my face behind her ear. “My first kiss.”
Sybil leaned back this time with a smile spreading across her lips like a flower blooming. “There’s so much to unpack there, starting with you in a choir. You sing? Will you serenade me?”
A gust of cold wind blew around us, and I pulled her closer without thinking. “No.”
“Please?”
I shook my head, shifting us so my body could block some of the wind for her. I’d joined the choir at my grandmother’s insistence and thought it would look good when I applied to college. While I was racking up the extracurricular hours, I’d fallen in love with it, but I’d dropped out after she died and I needed to spend more time studying and at the shop. “I regret telling you this.”
“Fine. What color Tesla do you think Hannah Carson would want?”
“Well, she kissed Bryan Jakonski the next day at rehearsal. Said he was cuter and she wasn’t going to kiss such a loser again.”
Sybil traced a finger over my neck again, and goose bumps ran down my right side. “What a cunt. Just a thank-you Kia, then. And a used one.” She grinned, and I had that feeling again, the one that felt like getting lost in a daydream.
“Is she still looking?”
In my periphery, I saw the PA looking right at us, phone in hand. “Just snapped a photo,” I said.
“It’s what we wanted.” She dropped her arm and rested a palm on my chest.
“You two are so cute!” the PA yelled across the parking lot before waving and climbing into her car.
“We’re cute,” Sybil said, eyebrow cocked as I heard the car behind us. “I told you this would work.”
No one was watching, but I still lifted her hand to my lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles, because I lost my grasp on what I should do whenever I was in her orbit. “I am very much looking forward to breaking up with you, Sybil.”