When the Heart Falls

Jenifer gestures to the other changing room. "Still getting ready. He's worse than a girl."

I knock on his door. "Come on. It's your turn."

"Don't rush perfection," Cade says from behind the door.

We all kept our costumes a secret, and I'm dying to see what he chose. When he walks out, I suck in my breath. This is the second time I've seen him without a shirt, but this time he's not just shirtless, he's got his cowboy boots and cowboy hat on, a fake gun slung around his waist, but his jeans. Oh my. His jeans are tight. Like, I-can-see-everything tight. And. Just. Wow. Unless he stuffed something down his pants, he's… impressive.

I wish I had real ice stuffed in my dress, because it just got really hot, and I'm struck by the urge to pull off my clothes to cool down.

Cade clears his throat, and I realize everyone is looking at me. "Is it that bad?" he asks.

I blush, hopping he can't read my thoughts. "No, not bad. Nope. It's… great. I love it."

He fidgets in his pants. "That's good, because I might have to cut these off before the end of the night. My boys can't breathe."

Jenifer scrunches up her face. "Doesn't he look the same as always?"



Jenifer wasn't kidding about Avenue des Champs-élysées being crammed full of people. It's almost impossible to walk as we push our way through the crowd. It reminds me of New York during the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, but in French.

"The party is at the end of the street," Jenifer says, pointing. She grabs my hand to pull me along, and I reach for Cade, who clasps onto me. People are shouting and whooping and throwing firecrackers on the street. It's insane. The energy of the group becomes its own living thing, vibrant and organic. It wraps around us, embracing us. A group of people spin around in a circle, some with masks and funky hats, others dressed normally. Before I know what's happening, we're a part of their circle, spinning and laughing, and I'm truly happy without drugs or alcohol or anything but the experience of being human.

I can't remember the last time I had so much fun.

The circle breaks up and people go their own way, leaving Cade and I facing each other, both out of breath. We smile at each other, and the world once again narrows on his face, his eyes, his mouth. The one kiss we've shared is a memory I keep at the front of my mind, bringing it to the surface of my thoughts when I want to feel that heat and desire again. I feel that now, looking at him, wondering if we'll kiss like that again, hoping we will.

Our spell shatters when someone dodges through the crowd and swipes Cade's hat off his head.

There's no thought, no planning. I just lunge forward and yank his hat back from the guy, who looks at me in surprise before disappearing into a swarm of people.

It happens in the blink of an eye, and I stand, holding Cade's hat, my heart pumping fast, the adrenaline rushing through me.

Cade looks at me and then at his hat. "That… that was amazing. You were lightning fast. Where did you get those reflexes?"

I shrug, as shocked as he is, and hold out his hat. "Here."

He reaches for it, then stops. "You know what? Why don't you wear it?"

"Really?" He's never let me wear it before.

"Yeah."

My heart pitter-patters. "Really?"

"Come on now, before I change my mind."

Giggling, I put the hat over my tiara, not caring that it completely clashes with my costume. "How do I look?"

"Beautiful." He tilts the hat on my head and lets his hand fall to caress my face. "But then, you're always beautiful."



The auditorium is packed when we arrive at the party, with every imaginable costume represented, from the super scandalous to the outrageous. Animals, historical characters, book characters, sexy vampires and pirates all mingling, drinking, laughing and dancing.

There's a live band playing music that I don't recognize, but they're pretty good, the music a blend of modern rock and punk. At the end of a set, the lead singer speaks to the crowd in French. "We've got a special guest performer. Let's give him a hand." A tall man in a black suit takes the stand and says "Thank you," in English, then sings a slow song that I do recognize.

Cade offers me his hand for the third time since we met. "May I have this dance, my Queen?"

I attempt an awkward curtsey in my dress. "Yes, my King."