Chapter sixteen
Rylee
Summer, almost two years ago.
This is such a terrible idea.
“I ’m sorry I haven’t been able to spend more time with you and showing you around.” Mia gives me one of her don’t be mad at me looks. Wide eyes, brows lifted, and a little pout that’s just begging for forgiveness. We’re sitting at one of the tables in her café, and I roll my eyes at her exaggerated guilt trip.
“It’s okay. I know you’ve got a lot going on with the café and Jake. And I’m happy for you.”
“Ahhh, you’re the best friend, and I’m the worst.” She pouts again, folding her hands dramatically.
“Stop it, you’re not.”
“I hope this fixes it.” She smiles.
“What?” I ask, just as she looks past me and says, “Luc.”
And before I know it, he’s standing next to her. I swallow the bite of the croissant I just stuffed in my mouth, nearly choking on it as I take him in. Mia said he was good looking, but this guy isn’t just good looking. He’s gorgeous. At least six feet, five inches, with a man bun that looks perfect on him. His jawline is both chiseled and softened by a slight scruff.
He’s wearing a simple white T-shirt, the sleeves rolled up over broad shoulders, showing off an expensive watch, and beige pants. He looks like he belongs on a magazine cover. I discreetly lick my lips, making sure I’m not actually drooling.
“Salut, Rylee,” he says.
“Hi…” I manage to get out, my throat suddenly dry. We’ve spoken before, but somehow my body seems to forget that every time. It reacts with the same shock as the first time I saw him when he walked into the café, making my breath hitch. We hold each other’s gazes for a moment, his hazel eyes warm and unreadable, before he takes the seat next to Mia.
“So, I talked to Luc.” Mia’s lips curve in a satisfying smile. “A nd he’s agreed to show you around the city. Who better to be your tour guide than someone who was born and raised here?”
“Mia, you can’t just ask him to do that,” I whisper, as if he can’t hear me.
“I’m happy to,” he says, his British accent throwing me off again. According to Mia, he switches between both languages effortlessly.
“See?” She grins. “He’s happy to. Explore the city, girl, and have fun. You’re in good hands.”
I look over at Luc, who’s giving me an easy smile. Oh God, that smile does funny things to my stomach. And then I notice his hands, clasped together on the table—strong, warm-looking hands. Yep, I’m in good hands… very good hands. Just a simple hangout. I can handle that, right?
Mia glances at the line and back at me. “I’ll leave you guys to talk. Looks like they need my help.” She shoots me a quick smile and heads off, leaving me alone with him.
This is such a terrible idea, and I know it. But I choose to ignore the warnings.