The International Kissing Club (17 page)

For a minute, her fingers itched for a sketchpad. She wanted to capture this scene, this moment, so she never forgot it. So she remembered forever what it was like to stand in front of beautiful artwork in the middle of a rapidly crowding club, with a hot guy who was looking at her like she belonged in one of the pictures on the wall.

“Do you like them?” he asked, leaning in even closer, so she could smell the dark, musky scent of his cologne.

“I do.” She felt disoriented, mixed up, like her body had suddenly
forgotten how to process oxygen. “This one—this one is my favorite.” She lifted her hand to the painting of a cancan girl with one foot onstage and one on the steps leading up to it. Caught in two different worlds—beautiful, exotic, excited—she was a part of both. A shot of envy pierced Piper’s heart. God, she wanted to be like that woman, if even for a little while: leaving the mundane behind for a world filled with lights and colors so bright they were nearly blinding.

“I like that one as well.” Raoul interrupted her thoughts as he leaned so close to her that his chest was almost touching hers. He reached out, stroked one long, rough finger down her cheek, and Piper saw stars. “She looks like you.”

It was happening, a little voice at the back of her head all but screamed. It was finally happening.
I’m gonna get kissed. I’m gonna get kissed. I’m gonna get kissed.
The taste of swine would be forever wiped from her mouth.

For one second, the voice of common sense intruded. And it sounded an awful lot like Cassidy.

OMG. Are you really about to kiss a guy you just met, like, five minutes ago?

Hell yes, she was. That was four and a half minutes too long. That’s what being a charter member of the International Kissing Club was all about.

As Raoul closed the distance between them, Piper barely resisted the urge to do a happy dance right there in the middle of the club. The only thing holding her back was that to do one, she’d have to pull away from Raoul. And that so wasn’t happening.

“Does she?” Her voice was breathless, but she couldn’t help it.

“
Oui. Vous êtes belle. Magnifique.
”

He’d called her beautiful! Raoul—the hottest guy she’d ever been this close to—had called her magnificent. Piper’s heart galloped in her chest, then nearly stopped altogether when he entwined his fingers into her hair.

Tugged her closer.

Lowered his mouth until his lips were barely an inch from hers.

Then he stopped, waited. Piper was afraid to blink, afraid to breathe. Certain that any move from her at all would shatter the moment. Why, oh why, hadn’t she taken Simone up on her offer of gum in the car?

Raoul smiled, almost as if he could read the thoughts flying through her mind at a thousand miles a minute. And then he bridged the small distance between them, his lips brushing against hers, once. Twice.

The whole club lit up as colors exploded behind Piper’s eyes. She didn’t know what to do, what to say, but Raoul didn’t seem to care. Nor did he seem to need any direction, because as her hand came up to clutch at his, he lowered his mouth again. And this time he kissed her. Really kissed her.

He tasted like peppermint and wine and clove cigarettes, and when his tongue stroked slowly over hers, Piper grabbed onto him with both hands—partly to stop herself from falling and partly because she was afraid Raoul would pull away. And she wasn’t ready for this to end. Not by a long shot.

When he finally did lift his mouth from hers, the room was spinning, like it had when she was a little girl and she twirled around so fast and so many times that everything around her had looked blurry and out of focus.

Forcing herself to concentrate, Piper lifted her eyes to Raoul’s dark ones. He looked as amused as she was happy, and then he was tugging her back toward the stairs.

“Do you want to dance, Piper?”

“Sure.” She was shocked she could still form words. “But I should probably find Simone.”

“Don’t worry about Simone,” he said. “She probably expects us to be gone for a while longer.”

A shiver of unease worked its way through Piper. What did he mean? Had this whole thing been a setup? Did he like her or was he just trying to mess with the American girl?

Or did it even matter? She’d been kissed. By a human.

Besides, wasn’t that what she was doing, too? It’s not like she was in love with Raoul. This was all about the experience. What was the point of being young and an artist in Paris if you didn’t kiss a few hot guys? Look at Picasso. Look at—

“There you are! I was just coming to get you!” Suddenly, Simone was right in front of her. She put her arm around Piper’s shoulders and squeezed. “The headliner is about to start.”

The brief feeling of unease slid away like it had never been there. “Who is it?” she asked.

“The Black Keys. They’re an American band—do you know them?”

“Know them? I love their new album. It’s got like three of my favorite songs on it.”

“My brother likes them, too.” Simone shouted to be heard over the sudden riff of live music that replaced the recorded stuff they’d played between sets. “He’s the one who suggested we come tonight.”

“Oh. Is he here?” Piper glanced around the suddenly packed club. How long had she and Raoul been upstairs, anyway?

“I don’t think so. He’d talked about coming, but then he never called me back, so …”

Just then, the first strands of “Howlin’ for You” filled the club and Simone squealed. “Come on, let’s dance!”

She grabbed Piper’s left hand and yanked her toward the dance floor. Piper followed her, conscious of the fact that Raoul still had a tight grip on her right hand. Happiness fizzed up inside her, nearly overwhelmed her. This is what she’d wanted, what she’d hoped for. What she’d spent her life waiting for. And then they were on the dance floor and she let the music take her over. She danced and danced and danced.

Paris, Texas—and the life she had there—had never seemed farther away.

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Messages

Between
Piper
and
Izzy
:

Piper

What’s up, sweetie? You sound down. Is Paris even more awful than usual?

Izzy

I just miss you guys a lot. Our table is lonely. I’m actually going to the football game this Friday. Need social interaction.

Izzy

What? No shock and disapproval?

Piper

Do what you need to do. I’m sorry you’re lonely. Maybe you could hang out with the art club. Donna’s okay, and so is Stacy.

Izzy

Yeah, because I’m so artistic …

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Chapter 10
Cassidy

The tires of the 747 hit the runway with a hard bounce, and air roared through the flaps on the airplane’s wings as it raced to a stop.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Sydney, Australia.”

Thank God. Cassidy couldn’t wait to stand up and stretch her body to its full height. After twenty hours spent wedged between Mr. Both-Armrests-Are-Mine and the hip-hop stylings of DJ Wannabe and his too-loud tunes, she knew how that last clown must feel when he finally emerged from the miniature car.

As the plane taxied to the gate, she reached into her backpack, pulled out her cell phone, and flipped it on. The international rates were exorbitant, but her mom had asked that she call the instant she landed.

When she’d left Paris, things between Cass and her mom had still been a little tense. Though she hadn’t been truly angry when she’d found out Cassidy had called her dad and asked for the money, she hadn’t been pleased, either. Cassidy knew she’d hurt her mom by going behind her back; the look of betrayal when she’d told her was not something she’d forget anytime soon. And Cassidy knew from her mom’s quiet acceptance of the plan, after she’d explained how badly she wanted to go, that, even more than being hurt, Megan Barlow’s fierce pride was sorely battered. That Cassidy’s absentee father could provide their daughter with such a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity
while she, the mother who’d given up her whole life to keep and raise her alone, could not was more than a bitter pill.