Chapter 14
LAILA
I hit the snooze button for the third time before groaning.
There was no way I was ready to get out of this bed. It was like sleeping on a cloud. If my alarm hadn’t gone off so many times, it’d be easy to believe that I’d died and gone to heaven. The pillows, mattress and sheets were out of this world.
But that wasn’t the only reason I’d be happy to hide under the duvet. I was also worried about spending more time with a certain Frenchman.
Gabriel.
Just thinking about him made my stomach flutter like a teenager swooning over her favourite popstar.
So embarrassing.
As much as I hated to admit it, I’d enjoyed myself yesterday. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed so much.
Although I was sure that I’d be mortified forever about pouncing on Gabriel’s crotch in the incident I am now calling ‘Juice Gate’, every time I thought about what happened, it still made me chuckle.
The silly photos we asked strangers to take of me throwing juice at him then pretending that the replacement shorts were the best gift he’d ever received were also funny.
I couldn’t believe it when he’d tricked me into leaving so he could pay for them.
I was hardly rolling in cash, but I still wanted to cover the cost. After all, it was my fault that he needed a new pair and I was sure he also needed to save money to use to promote his app.
Which was why I’d slapped him on the bicep playfully because that was so sneaky of him.
But as soon as my hand made contact, I’d regretted it.
His bicep was even firmer than it looked. It was like his muscles had muscles.
I was tempted to ask if he worked out, but that would’ve sounded pathetic. Plus it was obvious that he did. You didn’t get a body like that without lifting weights.
I was glad that we had the distraction of the Champs-élysées and seeing the Arc de Triomphe in real life was amazing.
We’d taken the photos and visited extra locations to get the bonus points (although now that I thought about it, I didn’t know why I was bothering when I wasn’t even staying until the end of the week).
In the car back to the hotel, I’d even scribbled down one new thing I’d learnt about him (I deliberately put a very bland: he knows a lot about Paris to avoid crossing any lines) and chosen five songs for the playlist. Again, I’d gone for safe choices including ‘Paris’ by Taylor Swift, ‘Paris’ by Sabrina Carpenter, ‘Paris’ by Kenya Grace, ‘Paris’ by The Chainsmokers and ‘Paris in the Rain’ by Lauv.
Who knew there were so many songs about Paris?
I’ll be honest: I almost included ‘When Did You Get Hot?’ by Sabrina Carpenter too, but as accurate as it was, I knew it wouldn’t be appropriate.
Anyway, so given that I’d done all the required tasks, I knew that as soon as we got back to the hotel, I had to draw a line. Having an intimate dinner together was absolutely out of the question.
And when I got back to my room and saw that I’d had two missed calls from Juliette, I knew I’d made the right decision.
I couldn’t face calling her, especially knowing that I’d (accidentally) rubbed her son’s cock (the fact that I didn’t actually feel the size of it didn’t make me feel less guilty), so I texted to say I was having an early night and would call her today.
Luckily, she seemed fine, but I didn’t know how much longer I’d be able to put her off.
If I was only staying until tomorrow, I’d be fine. I could just tell her I’d catch up with her when I returned.
Then again, if I told her I was coming back to London, she’d want to know why. So either I’d have to lie and tell her that I didn’t like my match and pretend they’d set me up with someone else…
Or I’d have to tell her the truth. But then she’d be upset with me for not fessing up from the start.
It was all such a mess.
I couldn’t deal with this right now. I had to have breakfast and get ready for today’s briefing.
For a moment I contemplated going to the restaurant, but quickly saw sense and ordered room service instead.
This would only work if I kept contact with Gabriel to an absolute minimum.
The rules were simple: spend time with him for the activities and nothing more.
As long as I did that, I’d be fine and I’d keep my friendship with Juliette firmly intact.
Easy-peasy, lemon squeezy.