Hello, my alien lovers!

Charlie and I went to Paris for a quick, one-week trip to attend a funeral.

I ate all the pastries (and found the best religieuse au café at a random boulangerie in the middle of nowhere in Clichy-la-Garenne), saw God everywhere (more on that in a future newsletters), and finished watching Jentry Chau, which is a show you should definitely check out if you like dark YA and thoughtful stories about death.

Death is sad, but my husband living his best life in the city I grew up in is pretty sweet!

Bonjour to Chapter 27!

THEY KISSED! AND EVERYONE KNOWS—now, what?

Very fun scene to write. It was one of those chapters where the conversation they needed to have was just so clear in my head.

I had the "Is right now a good time to talk about the kiss?" line written down before I wrote the chapter because I knew Salvatore would use this as an opportunity to get Maple to open up about her feelings. She's not fooling him. (She's not fooling anyone.)

Enjoy!

lunus 🩷

If you're new to the story, start with Chapter 1

If you missed the last chapter, Previously on Perilous Love Stars

“alien traffickers and lovers??? really??? it’s EVIDENT this is all connected to ALBERTINE FLOREZ’S DISAPPEARANCE!!! open your eyes, PEOPLE… a yellow alien teenager???? of course!! it’s all a distraction from what’s RIGHT IN FRONT OF US. Salvatore is Albertine!!!!” by esprl2024

“of all the women he could have gone with, he chose her??? i’m not anti nerdy showrunner or anything, but come on. hasn’t he seen Marsha’s body??? Evelyn and Saturno love each other, why can’t the actors?? #MarvatoreForever” by MarvatoreForever67

“they’re kinda cute together. not sure how i feel about the alien trafficking tho… #WATAT?” by  PP37

Top 3 most voted comments under  Known Alien traffickers Maple Defleuvier & Salvatore Suarez caught kissing!

Forever Soapy, June 20XX 

Salvatore grabbed Maple's hand, guiding her to the diner’s entrance. A crowd had amassed at the door, making their exit impossible. All around them, people were taking pictures and videos, shouting at them to "Smile! Kiss! Tell us where the alien teenagers are!" 

Maple was overwhelmed. She hated that kind of attention. Her breathing accelerated, anxiety and out of control heartbeat following suit. 

Salvatore squeezed her hand, pivoting and heading to the back of the restaurant instead. She closed her eyes, trusting him to shepherd them to safety.

He did, and when Maple noticed that most of the raucous felt far away, she opened her eyes. Salvatore locked the door of the crappy diner bathroom he'd lead them to. 

Her stomach growled as her breathing regulated. That was the problem with being the centre of a national scandal co-starring a superstar: nobody would let you eat breakfast in peace. 

Seconds later, someone started banging on the door.

"Open up, alien traffickers!" they screamed.

The tiny space smelled of chemical rose perfume. The cold white fluorescent lights reflected off white tiles. Bits of the ceiling were peeling off. Maple wanted to crawl out of her skin and find a desk to hide under. Everything was spiralling out of control. 

She turned, realizing too late how close Salvatore was. He pressed his back against the door to give her some room with little success. Packs and packs of condiments were piled on each side of the small bathroom, making it difficult for one person to stand and move in the space between the door and the toilet—but two people? They were stuck with and to each other.

Salvatore breathed out. She inhaled, letting herself feel the comfort of his familiar scent. 

Strands of curly hair escaped his precarious bun, complimenting a three-day stubble and violet smudges under his eyes. He should have looked frazzled in all the chaos. Yet, he was stunning as always, a true superstar. He always looked beautiful no matter the lighting, the angle, or the situation. 

"This is bad," she said because the situation was, in fact, quite bad.

He leaned in, his gravity dragging her back to him. "Is right now a good time to talk about the kiss?"

"No!"

She'd let herself be distracted by the teenagers, Peyter and Salvatore. She'd crossed the one line she said she wouldn't by kissing him. Now, it was on everyone's feed, all across Canada. The mistake they'd made could never be erased. 

"Why hide, Maple? Everyone knows now."

She studied him. "Are you happy about this? This is derailing our efforts to save the show!"

"How? Maybe there's some good in all this media attention."

"Of course, you'd think that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, almost amused.

"You're an actor. You like attention." She was a non-photogenic introvert. Her definition of hell was the mayhem on the other side of the door.

"I know that public attention can be a double-edged sword," he said, sternness casting a shadow on his face. "But this could also be good for the show."

"People will think it's a publicity stunt. Also—" she tried to raise her hands for theatrics only to bump them on  Salvatore's chest. "Sorry."

He grinned. He somehow got closer to her. The fabric of his shirt was stretched thin with the tightness of his muscles.  "No excuse needed. What's wrong with a publicity stunt? We could kiss again, see if it feels like a stunt or if it feels like we—"

"Salvatore," she cut him off, very aware of the danger of wording that last possibility. 

He wasn't grasping the consequences of what they've done. Or maybe he was and didn't care. They'd let their feelings get in the way of what mattered.

"You're dying, aren't you?" she asked, less ammunition in her tone this time. Worry crept into the cracks instead.

"Maybe," he whispered. "Another good reason to kiss me again."

"We can't," she whispered back, looking down. "We have to find a cure for you. We have to find Daphne. We can't. We just can't."

He pulled her face up so she could see him when he said, "I know you feel this attraction between us. I see it in your eyes when you look at me. Your pulse quickens every time you do." He smiled. "It's quickening right now."

She hid her own smile by pinching her lips together. "That's unfair. You have an advantage. Alien powers."

He chuckled, the sound echoing around them, enveloping Maple in a false sense of safety. "I don't need powers to know you're into me, Boss."

She almost quivered, barely holding herself together. 

Someone banged on the door. "Get out, you sickos!"

Another voice shouted, "Show yourselves! Don't be afraid of the truth! It will always prevail!"

The shouts continued and blended in Maple's mind with Yellow's warnings from yesterday. Truth will always prevail.

"You're not worried the scandal will expose your secrets to the entire world?" she asked. 

Truth might always prevail, but whose truth? She wasn't the only one lying to everyone.

He frowned, catching on to her subtle accusation. "I have a right to privacy, Maple. Nobody needs to know I'm sick. That's not lying."

"You're not just sick. You're dying."

"I'm not lying to anyone," he countered.

"You lied to me."

The door trembled under the ferocious bangs. Salvatore swallowed.

"People might discover your alienhood," she continued. She needed him to understand how grave the situation was.

A flicker briefly passed through his gaze, like it had when he'd discovered the pictures of Yellow. Something new. Fear.

"So be it," he said. His voice was low and dangerous. "They have no proof. If they want to out me, there's nothing I can do to stop them."

"I don't want them to out you." She touched his arm. She felt his muscles react to the contact. "Nobody should have to  go through that."

"Let me kiss you."

"Salvatore—"

He pulled her into him, both bodies melting too easily with each other. "Don't tell me it's because you're my boss. I don't believe you."

"You said you wouldn't use your powers on me."

"I’m not. I said I didn't believe you, not that you were lying."

She hated how good it felt to be in his arms, to be this close to him—to know that for an instant, she was all he cared about. 

Truth will always prevail. 

Salvatore was right. Her reticence wasn't just about professionalism anymore. Maybe it'd never been just about that. Since that day on set when the light had almost killed her, Salvatore had been lying to Maple. He'd said, "No more lies," but as a chronic liar herself, she knew better. How trustworthy could a liar be? Many people trusted her, but it didn't mean they were right. Until she could deliver Daphne back to Sobriquet Lake and save the show, they were all wrong to have trusted her.

"Salvatore, this isn't the time to discuss this. Let's leave this place. We can talk later."

Another lie. Maple had no intention to debate the potentiality of another kiss since there wouldn't be one.

"All right." He bored his impossibly green eyes into her. "I will hold you to that."

She missed a breath. "How do we escape?" 

The shouting and banging had quieted down, but they could still hear a bunch of people on the other side of the door.

Salvatore smiled at her. Maple felt calmer instantaneously. "I have a lot of experience losing paparazzi. Let me show you."

He slowly raised his arms, making sure not to hit her. The fabric of his shirt rubbed against her cheeks as his arms passed her head. 

"Sorry," he said.

She was a puddle of raging hormones. "No need."

He closed his eyes. His brows pinched,  and a guttural sound escaped his throat. Maple was swimming in Arousal Lake.

There was a loud thud. Surprised screams erupted from the diner. A commotion behind the door, then the strident melody of a fire alarm. 

"Fire!" someone cried out. Maple recognized the waitress' voice. "Out! Everyone out!" 

"My phone's fried!" Someone yelled. 

"Mine too!" Another shouted.

"Out! Now!" The waitress banged on the bathroom door. "'Goes for you too, sickos! OUT!"

Salvatore opened his eyes.

"Did you start a fire to create a diversion so we could escape?" Maple asked, worried and turned on at the same time. 

"I just wanted to trigger the alarm. I might have overdone it."

She chuckled. "The fried phones, that's you too?"

His thick, bushy eyebrows shot up with mirth. "I get grumpy without my morning coffee." Finding his gravitas again, he said, "We should go. Let's take the back door and get to the SUV. Can you run?"

Maple rolled her eyes. "Please. Running around is 70% of my job."

He unlocked the door behind him. "Then, let's run, Boss."