“Good night, Francesca,” I offered back, crossing my arms smugly across my chest.
She looked at me, brows still high, and let out a laugh.
“What?” I asked.
“I wasn’t expecting a Francesca,” she said. “You surprised me.”
“Well, hopefully, it won’t be the last time,” I said, stammering slightly. “That I surprise you. Or you surprise me. Or we surprise each other? I don’t know where I’m going with this.” I couldn’t figure out the right words to say to her.
“Good night, Hayes,” she said with one final smile. I stood there as she headed down West Thirteenth Street, losing her to New York City once again.
Feeling the weight of her absence deep in my chest, I turned toward the building and headed back to the party inside. I still had at least an hour of schmoozing left. I let my hand graze the edge of the building, feeling the cool cement against my fingertips. Anything to bring me back to reality.
Just as I reached to pull open the doors to the lobby, I felt someone tap my shoulder. I turned to find Franny, slightly out of breath. She exhaled as she took a final step, meeting me almost toe to toe.
“Surprise,” she said, still breathless.
I furrowed my brow in confusion and opened my mouth to reply. But before I could get a word out, her lips were there, soft against mine, lingering for what felt like years or a split second—it was hard to tell. Time didn’t so much stop, but rather sped forward, blasted me off to space and back down to Earth again. The tips of her fingers brushed my cheek, and the sensation of her skin against mine set off an electrical fire inside my skull. I reached for her face, her delicate curls brushing against my fingers.
Before my brain could catch up with my body and process what was happening, she leaned back with an enormous smile, her eyes alight with something feral. And without a word, she dashed down the street and into the night, leaving me standing dumbstruck.
Chapter Nineteen
Franny
“Wait, I’m sorry. I’m going to need you to repeat this story again,” Cleo said from the couch, where she lay splayed out, chopsticks in one hand, takeout container of dumplings in the other. “You said, ‘Surprise,’ and then you kissed him?”
I buried my face in my hands. It had been twenty-four hours since I’d made the decision to run back and kiss Hayes. It had been quick, a flash of skin, a skip of the heart. So fast it almost felt like a figment of my imagination. But it had happened. I’d done it, and I hadn’t stopped thinking about it since, with a strange mix of horror and thrill. Horror because—what if he was horrified? And thrill because, well…it had been thrilling. And in between all the panicked thoughts, I’d been imagining what it might feel like to do it again.
Lola squealed and kicked me with her socked feet in a pitter-patter motion, like a cat getting its stomach rubbed.
“I had had two glasses of prosecco,” I moaned. “You know sparkling wine is one of my biggest enemies.”
“Oh, don’t blame it on the booze,” Lola said. “We’ve both seen you truly hammered, and this was not one of those nights. Remember the Halloween when we all dressed up like the Spice Girls and you made out with Wall Street Greg at that Gowanus loft party?”
Cleo raised her head. “Oh my god, Lo, and you clogged the toilet at that after-party?”
“Okay, forget I said anything.” Lola grimaced. “Besides, this is about Franny. Franny kissing Hayes.”
“Ooooh, and liking it!” Cleo piped up. “Remember when she thought he was a jerk?”
“I believe she said ‘asshole,’” Lola said, dunking a dumpling in soy sauce and vinegar. “I never bought it. You were smitten the second he forced his coat on you on the train.”
Cleo mm-hmmed in agreement from the couch.
“Wow, you are very insightful,” I replied sarcastically. “Seriously, though. I need to call him, right? And make sure he knows it was just an accidental in-the-moment kind of thing?”
Neither of my friends said anything. Instead, they each snuck a glance at the other. “I can see you both looking at each other. You know that, right?” I waved my hands at them. “I am literally two feet away from you.”
I looked at my phone for what felt like the five hundredth time today. So far, the only person I’d heard from was my mom, sending me pictures of possible floral arrangements for Ruby’s baby shower next weekend. I ignored her.
“I’m seeing Perrine tomorrow for yoga and dinner,” Lola said. “I could ask her to try to get some info out of him.”