Romantic Short Story – Kissed by the French Guy
Photo credit: clarita from morguefile.com
When Varun left our table, I was highly amused. I was simply high on excitement.
“We need to know what’s happening!” Kes exclaimed. “Wait! I know. Come on! Let’s do a selfie and see if we can watch him!” She said excitedly pulling her phone out. And that we did. Adjusting the camera so it covered the two of us and also a bit of Varun, we clicked a series if selfies. Varun was talking to the two men. He had a knack for chatting up to strangers. He had comfortably placed both palms on their table and was leaning in talking to them. A few moments later, he returned our table and sat astride me.
“It’s done,” he said with a hint of a grin on his face.
Just few hours ago while chilling in the hotel room Varun had volunteered, “Kara, we are making sure you kiss a guy tonight.” At that time, with the effect of a few alcoholic beverages setting in, we had laughed it off. Frolicking around pondicherry later that evening, we just enjoyed the breeze from the ocean. It was a coincidence that we found the kitchen open at Le Chateau so late into the night. Oh, how I love all things French.
Few minutes later we were feasting on Coq au Vin and a bottle of wine. It was then, that two men walked in and found a seat in the corner of the restaurant. “I am going to ask them,” Varun said matter of factly.
“What? No! You wouldn’t!” I exclaimed. Kes was just as shocked. But the truth is, as much as I was shocked, the idea of a kiss excited me. I felt the tingles all through my body. I didn’t express the thought though. These were my friends – my closest friends. They wouldn’t judge me if i had said, “OMG! Yes. I want to make out with a random guy!” But, for some silly reason I toned downed my feelings.
But, Varun did just that. We finished dinner. My Coq au Vin was heaven on a plate. I had just dropped my fork to the plate when he stood up saying, “Gonna go talk to them now. Maybe, you could kiss both of them!” He joked as he moved away from the table. I let him. Neither Kes nor I made an attempt to stop him.
Now, he was back saying, “It’s done.”
“Oh, by the way, they are French. So that’s like added bonus right?” He mused. My cheeks had reddened. My mouth hurt from trying to suppress the wide grin that I had reduced to a small smile. “We just have to wait till they finish their drinks. Then, they’ll join us for a walk on the beach,” Varun continued. My head was all over the place as I registered his words. Beside me, Kes was saying repeating “Oh my God” and “Okay” elatedly.
“So, did you tell them she is getting married?” Kes exclaimed. This got my attention. Did he?
“Of course, I did!” Varun replied, “I told them this was her bachelorette and we dared her to kiss a guy of our choice.”
“Oh wow! Oh! My God! You are going to kiss someone!” Kes said animatedly as she pulled me to her side for a hug. I hoped and silently prayed I don’t freak out and mess up my only chance to kiss a Frenchman.
It was a few moments after, we heard the scraping of chairs as the two men got up to leave. Varun, quick on his feet, got their attention and motioned to them that we’ll join them. We all awkwardly shuffled towards the elevators. Once in, I still haven’t gotten the courage to say a word. But Kes had already started chatting up with one of them and Varun, with the other.
I took the time to look at the two men, one of whom I will probably be kissing before the night ends. Kes was talking to the guy who was lean and lanky. He had a cute nerdy thing going on with big glasses. He seemed to be taken with Kes. But the other guy, talking to Varun. He got my attention. He was unkempt and had a rough stubble on him. He had a pair of aviators resting atop his head. Dressed in a black tee shirt and grey shorts, he gave an aura that said dark yet signified strength. I was taken by it. I should have been running miles away from him. But, no, I hoped and I hoped more that he would be the one kissing me tonight.
Out of the restaurant now, we walked towards the beach. The night seemed to be still young in Pondicherry and the beach was far from empty.
“I am Nicolas,” the dark stranger introduced himself with an obvious French accent. I had not seen him move away from Varun towards me. I couldn’t help but blush as I volunteered, “My name is Kara.”
Nicolas looked surprised,”I did not expect that. Your name, it’s quite English.” I had to laugh as I said, “Yes, my parents went full on English with the name.”
As we slowly walked the strip of the beach we made quite some small talk. He was impressed by my knowledge on world history and also of my un petit peu use of French. I secretly patted myself for remembering the basics of the language. I tell him of my fiance and the up coming wedding. Whether he comprehended the workings of an arrange marriage was beyond my knowing, but he seemed to understand what I told him and didn’t question me too much of it.
I was just starting to feel I was running out of topics and boring Nicholas, when just on cue, Varun came up to us. “Hey, we don’t want to keep you guys long. I mean you probably walked the beach a million times already,” He mentioned to Nicholas.
“Yes. Yes. We are going to leave,” Nicholas told him. I almost started hyperventilating when I heard those words. He wanted to leave. He didn’t want to do this. I almost felt dejected.
Varun jumped in quickly, “No! We just need to find a secluded spot, you know. We really want her to have fun before she gets hitched. We’ve known her for like ever, we are best friends, and I know for a fact she hasn’t been kissed!” This got me another surprised look from Nicholas. I just let out a nervouse giggle.
“You haven’t been kissed in so long…” He almost asks me. I give him a shrug. I look to Varun for help. I am, yet again, lost for words. Varun looked around him, “That street looks empty!” He tells Nicolas. “Let’s go in there.”
We followed him, crossing the small road and took a turn into the street he mentioned. Honestly, the next few minutes are a blur. I don’t remember what I said, or what anyone said but I found myself standing in the middle of the street with my hands in Nicholas’. I jolt back to reality at the feel of his hands rubbing his thumb over my wrist.
“Do you want to do this?” He asks. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“No! No, I want to!” I tell him quickly shocked at my own words, shocked at the sudden burst of courage. I look around and my friends and his friend are standing around us. “You guys can’t just stand there looking at us!” I shout to them. They quickly scatter in weird robotic movements that makes me laugh.
I look back at Nicholas. He tells me everything is okay and he wouldn’t do anything I don’t want him to as he slowly walked backward to a dark corner of the street taking me with him. My heart is beating into tachycardia. I start to tell him I am not good at this, this being kissing and before I could get a word out, his lips are on mine.
The touch, it was so soft. He first kissed my upper lip and then moved to my lower lip. As soon his lips touch mine, I get a hint of the taste of mint. I felt my legs give away and as though he knew it, one of his hands left mine and went to the small of my back, slowly pulling me into him. I let him. I hold on to the front of his tee shirt making a tight fist with my now free hand simply because I needed to hold on to something. He seems to know what he is doing, obviously, as he lets my other hand go and moves it to my neck, further pulling me into him, deepening the kiss. I move my hand to his neck reciprocating his move.
I gave into the kiss and took his lead kissing him back. The kiss was not long. It probably lasted a few seconds. But it was beautiful. It was soft, caring, not taking it too far. And just as gently as he had touched me, he slowly pulled away just slightly from me. He pulled me into a hug, not pushing me away immediately. That simple gesture just further revealed to me how much of gentleman he was.
“You French, are definitely romantics,” I tell him softly.
“And I wish you weren’t getting married, so I could keep kissing you,” he whispered in my ear. I look up at him, slowly. My blush is evident.
“Congratulations, Kara. Have a happily married life,” he says before entwining his hand with mine and walking me back to our friends, before bidding me goodnight and before leaving to head back to his hotel, before ending this night with me.
As for me, I couldn’t wash of the smile from my face even long after he was gone. I knew I would not forget the kiss, that moment. That moment, when a perfect French gentleman kissed me.
