8. Starting Over

CHAPTER 8

Starting Over

Tristan

Cedric hesitated. There was an adorable frown on his face and a smile that only touched the corners of his lips. If I didn't know how impossible and otherworldly his feelings for me were, I would have swooned.

"Come along, Princess," I said, gesturing down the stone-paved path with my head.

"Uh, Princess? No, thank you. And I'm not four, either, Tristan," Cedric said.

"You're failing to prove that," I teased. "Zoos are fun no matter how old you are."

Putting on a mock pout, Cedric narrowed his eyes and followed me in. "I happen to be one of the patrons of Verdumont's biggest zoo."

"There's more than one?" I asked, genuinely surprised.

Cedric muttered, "There are two."

"How sweet of you," I told him. "And I'm going to show you a handsome fellow you'll fall in love with. "

His gaze lingered on me for a moment or two, his expression frozen in that instant. When he looked away, he seemed ever so slightly more flustered. "We'll see about that. Oh, and if it's a snake, I'll just warn you that there's no surer way to send me running home." He glued his feet to the ground, a scared expression washing over his face.

I grabbed his hand and pulled him after me. "I would never do that to you."

He laughed abruptly and hurried after me. As we navigated the maze of this small and intimate zoo, Cedric told me about the efforts in Verdumont to create much more humane conditions for the animals. "It's a complicated situation," he explained. "Most of the animals had been bred in captivity, so to speak, and releasing them into the wild is a death sentence. We limit the number of people allowed inside our zoos at any given time. I wouldn't call them resorts, but the animals have much better living conditions than in a lot of places I visited."

We talked about his travels around the world as he stopped by a few areas with friendly zebras and young, willful elephants. As we neared the destination I had in mind, I said, "We have this sponsorship program intended to rescue and care for the animals." We rounded a corner and climbed over a bridge that connected two sides of an artificial river. "And I'm Pudding's foster dad."

"Pudding?" Cedric asked. Before he could speak the name, we approached the Bamboo Haven, where Pudding lived. It was an acre-large plot of land, walled with bamboo groves and enriched by rising slopes and artificial caves, hosting five pandas living their best lives. Although people moved around the area and observed the pandas that were outside, the place was tucked away for peace and quiet, equipped with specialty walkways for observers wanting a closer look.

At the nearest fence, there were five plaques done in bronze, each stating the basic biological information for one of the pandas, and each had the name of the patron added to the bottom.

Cedric's eyes widened when he saw Pudding's plaque with my name on it. He realized I wasn't kidding. "Tristan, you do odd jobs at a bar. How do you…?"

I shrugged before he could finish. "I'm terrible with money, I know." I wasn't going into the monthly deposits from my parents. It made my heart clench to think of them. Most of it went to Pudding, anyway, except for my portion of the rent.

"Is he here?" Cedric asked. A bubbly, almost childish excitement painted his voice. "I'd love to see him."

My hand wrapped around Cedric's again, yet the sensation of touching him was no less electric the second time around. It raced straight to my heart, but I kept my face smooth and led Cedric down the pathway for observers to an opening that allowed us to see most of the Bamboo Haven's interior.

As we approached the safety railing, I scanned the ground and spotted my friend sitting, his hind legs spread out before him, his back upright, and bamboo sticks scattered around him. He used his front paws to handle the sticks.

"You can tell them apart?" Cedric asked when I pointed at Pudding.

"He's the youngest," I explained. We gazed at the panda as he lifted a piece of bamboo and started to bend it until it broke. He was careful about doing it, his little arms moving slowly, his teeth baring in an expression of great effort.

Cedric watched with unrestrained wonder. The sheer delight on his face removed the creases of tiredness that were starting to show themselves around his eyes and mouth. "What is he doing?"

I chuckled. I had seen Pudding at it countless times. I had once come here with Roman and asked Pudding's then-carer what it was all about. "He was adopted very young and cared for by humans," I said. "Pandas are very impressionable, especially at such a young age. Pudding obviously has the strength to snap the sticks like toothpicks, but because the girl who cared for him first struggled to break the sticks for him to snack on, he learned to do the same. Or he started doing it to fit in, I don't know. But here he is, two years later, acting like it's the hardest thing in the world."

Cedric laughed out loud. He didn't take his gaze off Pudding since we spotted him.

"You should see him climb," I said. "It's so clumsy and human that it freaks you out."

Cedric shook his head slowly, still looking at Pudding for a few moments. Then, slowly, his head turned to me. The intensity of his gaze never failed to create physical weight when it was on me. "So, this is what you do," he mused. "You go around rescuing and helping."

I couldn't stop the snort that catapulted itself from my nose. "I do nothing, Cedric. Sarah and John care for the bunch; I just send some money every month. It helps keep the misting system running in the summer and heated rocks during winter."

Cedric looked at me just the same. "You act like nothing you do is worth anything, but I've never met anyone who's as ready to give up their time and money for others."

I didn't plan to argue with him. It was nice to be thought of so positively by someone, prince or not, but he had a totally wrong impression of me.

"You're full of surprises," Cedric said, turning his attention back to Pudding.

I waved my hand through the air as if I were doing a sleight of hand. "No surprises for tonight," I promised. "We're only going to dance until we fall off our feet."

There was a sparkle in Cedric's eyes that promised a great night ahead.

Cedric

Although three days had gone by since I first told him the truth of my identity, Tristan acted like we were just two boys lost in New York City's vast cityscape. The first tease I received was long after we had visited Pudding at the zoo and parted ways for a short time. I waited for Tristan at Neon Nights in my best summer clothes. Some unearthly hand had guided me to do all I could to fix my overgrowing hair and spend an hour in front of the mirror as if tonight was anything more than simple fun. My clenching heart and fluttering stomach worried me, but I pushed those thoughts aside.

Tristan entered Neon Nights alone and walked straight toward me. On the way between the door and the spot where I sat at the bar, he greeted several people and a couple of guys who were visibly there together. And when he finally reached me, he batted those long, dark eyelashes at me, making my heart stumble. "Your Highness," he said just loudly enough for my ears as he leaned in to greet me with a hug. I was getting used to being hugged instead of having my hand shaken.

There are many things I could get used to with you , I thought, inhaling Tristan's light, breezy scent. "Is that a threat?" I asked in a low tone.

He chuckled so sweetly that the flutters rose into my chest. "Only if you don't follow me to the dance floor ASAP."

"A drink first?" I offered. "I can get you that radioactive thing you like that makes your eyes glow yellow."

Tristan slapped my shoulder. It was, on its own, just a friendly gesture, meaningless banter, but the feel of his hand on my body, even if the part of my body was a covered shoulder, was as intimate as meeting his Pudding or standing at the top of the Empire State building with him.

What are you doing to me? I wondered desperately. With each moment we spent near one another, thoughts of home crashed on me harder. I figured it was because the more I was near Tristan, the less I wanted to return to it all.

Tristan agreed to have a drink at the bar with me first. Mama Viv hadn't sung her opening number yet, anyway, so the party was hardly warming up. And nothing was as sexy as Tristan biting the tip of his big straw, closing his lips around it, and sucking a bit of the lemony vodka from the glass of crushed ice. He had this flirtatious aura sparking around him that I was finding increasingly more difficult to ignore. Or the shot of caramel rum Roman had served me was extra potent. It was one or the other.

"Have you met my friends?" Tristan asked just as the pair he had greeted neared him again.

I glanced at the couple as I shook my head in reply. They were both tall guys, near my age or slightly older, and clearly in love. It was odd that I couldn't put my finger on how I knew that, but they were so visibly tied together that I didn't doubt my instincts. One was a blond guy with wavy hair and an expression of an introvert's shyness and defiance. The other was slightly taller, his skin like caramel, his eyes warm and brown and full of zest for life, his hair cropped short, and his lips full. "Hullo," said the blond one. "Hey," said the brown-eyed one. They thrust their hands out in turn, and the one who introduced himself as Rafael narrowed his eyes briefly. "Have we met before?"

"Uh, I work here," I said. "But I don't remember seeing you around."

"Sorry," Rafael said lightly. "You just looked familiar from somewhere else. Can't put my finger on it."

"It's your wild imagination," Luke, the blond one with a low fire burning behind his eyes, said.

"You're the one with wild imagination. Mine is perfectly within the limits of reason." Rafael turned to me. "Is that a French accent?"

"Close enough," I said.

"I spent a wonderful night in Paris, oh, ten years ago, and many not-as-wonderful weeks otherwise," Rafael said. Something about it made Luke's eyes glow.

I sensed more questions coming from Rafael, the conversational one, but a booming voice announced the matron of the neighborhood, Lady Vivien Woodcock, before she appeared on the stage and rescued me from people's curiosity.

There was a cheer that was quickly silenced when the track began to play. It took me a moment to survive the wave of chills running down my arms and recognize the tune. Mama Viv, dancing like a world-class performer about to drop a legendary cover, sang "It's A Sin" by Pet Shop Boys powerfully enough to leave me gasping for air. I hardly noticed getting up from my bar stool and finding Tristan next to me. I was barely aware that we had forgotten all about our drinks and were spinning around the dance floor, lasers beaming at us and at Mama Viv. The world dimmed everywhere but between us. He became the sole figure I could register. And this, with Mama Viv's perfect pitch for the ultimate melancholy threaded through the song, was the moment I knew what it was that I wanted.

I doubted I could have it.

I didn't dare to believe it would last.

But I wanted it. My heart burned in hellish flames with the desire for it. This. This was all I would ever need. I wanted to be consumed by the night, to burn up with a passion that fueled everyone around me, to lose myself in Tristan until all my days passed and I was an old and satisfied man with a lifetime of memories to cherish.

It's never gonna happen , I reminded myself, but it was almost like I was speaking to someone who had long gone deaf to this specific voice. Your days are already numbered, silly boy .

But this welling energy that threatened to overflow the confines of my body had to spill somewhere. It had to pour out of me, or I would burst. I grabbed Tristan, this wonderful, impossible guy who never seemed tired, never looked like his life lacked purpose, and never, ever cared if doing the right thing cost him his life. My arms wrapped around his sculpted body, my lips stretched into a broad, uncontrollable smile, and I lifted him off his feet. Some guys would panic, flail, laugh, and ask to be put down, but Tristan stretched his arms above his head and leaned back, spinning in what looked like slow motion to my speeding mind. Beyond the melancholy of the song's iconic tune was something dramatic and urgent, and I felt it in every bone of my body.

Releasing Tristan, I pulled him in again, our bodies smashing against one another, breaths kicked out of our lungs, eyes locked in a fierce battle of wills as we danced.

I had never been this deeply immersed in anything my entire life. How sterile and droll had my existence been before running into this gorgeous man? As the tunes merged with Mama Viv's increasingly more dramatic performance, I sank deep into the well of my feelings. And the explosive final chords brought me back invigorated, reborn, and determined. A catharsis of emotions that lasted a whole five minutes, yet it shifted the ground for a lifetime.

"My, my," Tristan said. "The prince of the dance floor."

"Let's keep going," I said, out of breath and with a thin layer of sweat breaking over my body. "Let's never stop."

When Mama Viv yielded to the thundering requests for another song, Starship's "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now" raised the hairs on my neck and arms. Now, the mix of wild and quirky took over us and we moved as one, almost like every thought that crossed his mind was beamed into mine instantly. It was like we were the marionettes of the lasers cutting through the artificial smoke, moving whichever way they hit us. Tristan was the perfect counterpart, perfect partner, perfect person to be with when you wanted to feel like you were someone's entire world. He knew everything. He knew who I was, who my family was, and what my fate would inevitably be, yet he gave all of himself to me as if none of it mattered.

One song passed, and another came. Mama Viv handed over the stage to a score of queens who lip-synced their souls out, smugly standing by the bar and watching as the night progressed and nobody managed to steal her glory. In the whirlwind of colors and flavors and scents, I spotted glimpses of other people. Roman served drinks from behind the bar, and Rafael ran his fingers through Luke's rich, bright hair. But Tristan and I were inseparable. Nothing could exhaust me. My appetite only grew more ravenous. Every bump, every sweet touch that was gone before I knew it, every glance into his eyes made me want more.

What are you doing to me, you beautiful stranger? I am about to have a terrible life that won't get any better if I forever remember the things that cannot be. But those voices were distant and small, irrelevant, and said to someone who wasn't me. They were said to someone who might listen to them.

"Come with me," I huffed, pulling Tristan into my arms, his clothes as sweat-soaked as mine. "Let's get out of here." Alternately, I would hold him like this until I felt all of him.

"Are you sure about that?" Tristan asked cheekily.

"Absolutely," I said. I didn't let my doubts creep up.

Tristan and I slowed down. His balled fists rested on my pecs, and his forehead touched mine. "élodie?"

My stomach hollowed. Yes. There was a real world outside this. How would I reconcile the two? "I'll never belong to her, Tristan. With or without you."

He pulled his head away and looked into my eyes. His teeth closed around his lower lip, and a smile pulled the corners of his mouth. "No, I don't think you will," he said, his eyes glimmering.

"So?" I asked, my hands on his hips, muscles tense as I fought not to pull him in so hard that the impact would unite all our atoms into a single being.

"So," he said, licking his lips, "take me, then."

My heart nearly exploded as his words sank into every part of my body, into my very soul. With a new determination, I released his hips and took his hand. If anyone saw us, they didn't try to stop us from leaving. We moved as one as if we were still dancing, and the crowd parted to let us through.

Whatever came next, I would deal with it. I would fight the fate if I had to. But right now, he was all I could think about.