“But we don’t have tickets.”
“We don’t need tickets.”
I blink at him. “Um, to fly on a plane, you need tickets.”
Tyler pauses. Then his lips quirk, and he fights a laugh. “Oh, Liv, babe… We’re not flying Air France. We’re flying Air Stone courtesy of my parents.”
Of course we are.
“Have you ever had a proper French pastry?”
“What part of ‘I’ve never been to France’ don’t you understand?”
Tyler grins and pushes me back down on the bed. “You know, when I call you my bitch, I don’t mean it in a literal sense?”
I poke my tongue out at him, snuggle back under the sheets, and yawn.
“Okay, tired bitch, I’m going to get you pastries. I’ll be a while, so get some more sleep if you can.” He leans over and kisses my forehead.
I sigh as the front door closes. I’ve never had jet lag like this before. I’ve never been so time-fucked that I want to carve out my brain with a dessert spoon.
My phone buzzes from the nightstand and I reach over blindly. I smack the top of the stand several times before I find it and tuck it under the covers with me.
What are you doing today?
Dayton texts.
Waiting in bed for some hot British guy to bring me pastries.
Under the thumb!
Or hankering to be my boyfriend that’s really a boyfriend.
And boy, he really is. When we landed late last night, he wouldn’t let me so much as touch my suitcase before he handed them off to a porter. Then when we got up to our suite, he made me tea and called down for toast and bacon.
Now, he’s getting pastries.
But shit. The guy brought me to France. And our relationship that isn’t really a relationship is beginning to feel exactly like a real relationship. I mean, the forehead kiss. You don’t forehead kiss a girl you’re just fucking or a girl you care about. Nope. You forehead kiss a girl you want to be with because you know if she wants you too, it’ll make her spine tingle.
I am tingly. I’m frickin’ vibrating from that one brief touch. I can still feel the warmth of his lips on my skin. Because, goddamn it, he’s a real man. Only a real man could kiss my forehead with the barest of touches and set me on fire.
How is your relationship that isn’t really a relationship?
Hovering somewhere between a relationship that isn’t really a relationship and a relationship that could be a relationship.
SQUEEEEE!!
Did she just fucking squee at me? Paris messes with her head, clearly.
Don’t ever squee at me again,
I shoot back. Seriously. No one in their right mind should ever squee.
Sorry. I just want you to be happy.
I am happy. I was happy before I met Tyler. He just makes me a little…happier.
Oh, just get over yourself and agree to be his girlfriend.
Don’t you have a man to entertain?
He’s out getting pastries. ;P
Wow. Their mamas trained them right.
I reply saying that I’ll talk to her later when I know what we’re doing and slide my phone beneath the pillow. It’s surreal to be in the city Day has told me so much about—to see the place where she and Aaron fell in love. Before, it seemed like a whole different world. Somewhere I’d never get to experience for myself.
Only now I am. I’m here, in this city I haven’t really seen any of at all. And just maybe… Maybe that Parisian magic I’ve heard so much about could spread some fucking fairy love dust on me.
Maybe.
I stand and wrap the sheet around me before pushing open the balcony doors and looking out. It’s cold—no colder than Seattle, although it’s freezing in just a sheet—but the view makes the goose bumps flaring up across my exposed skin worth it.
Holy. Beautiful.
I can see across the rooftops. The old-style, almost antique, rooftops. There are flowers sitting on some of them, and almost every building I can see has some sort of a balcony. With flowers. Flowers everywhere. It’s beautiful and charming.
The Eiffel Tower is a few blocks away, stretching above everything else, its beauty not marred by the light-grey clouds behind it. It’s a majestic sight even from here.
I lean my back against the wall, wrapping the sheet tighter around me. I have a sneaking suspicion that Tyler asked for this suite—for one that faces the Tower. Like he knew how much it would enchant me.
“So much for sleeping,” he says softly, stepping out onto the balcony.
“I couldn’t. I wanted to look at, well, this.” I cast my eyes across the horizon. He wasn’t kidding when he said that it was breathtakingly beautiful.
“You look like a little kid who just found themselves in a sweet shop.”