Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
JENNY
I t’s after breakfast and I can’t stop sneaking glances at him. The way the sunlight filters through the plane window and hits Zack just right, illuminating his profile—strong jaw, focused gaze, his dark blue eyes on his tablet. He’s in a tailored suit, but there’s this raw intensity to him, like he could just tear out of it any second. I can barely breathe. Every glance I steal makes my heart pound harder, and I feel the heat crawling up my cheeks. He’s Brett’s brother, and yet he couldn’t be more different.
Unable to hold back, I pull out my phone and text Camille, my best friend from Paris boarding school. If there’s anyone who’ll understand how twisted up I feel, it’s her.
Me: I’m losing it.
Camille: Why?
Me: I’m with Zack. We’re on our way to Rome, and this plane is suddenly too hot. I think I want him to kiss me again.
Camille: What? Zack! Brett’s brother?
Me: Yes, exactly. It’s insane. It’s not even like I really fancy him... but I can’t stop thinking about that kiss. I’m still hung up on it, and I can’t get it out of my mind.
Camille: It must be because you hate him.
Me: Maybe... but it’s different with Brett. With Brett, I’m usually excited... but with Zack, it’s... intense.
Her reply comes with a string of laughing emojis.
Camille: You’re in a tough spot, my dear. But I’m at work, so no more texts. Call me if you want.”
I glance over at Zack, gauging if he understands any French. He looks deeply focused on his tablet, so I clear my throat. “Do you uh by any chance speak French?”
He glances up and gives a brief shake of his head. “No.”
Relieved, I press the call button, my heart racing as soon as Camille picks up. I drop my voice low, and the words spill out in French, as if confessing something I can barely admit to myself.
Me: He’s so… attractive, and I can’t help it. It’s insane, Camille.
Camille: You’re talking about Zack, Brett’s brother? But I thought you were crazy about Brett!
Me: I thought so too, but with Zack, it’s… different. I can’t stop thinking about him, and not in the same way I thought about Brett. This is just physical attraction, I think, and it’s his fault. He was the one who kissed me instead of Brett.
Camille: So, what is it? What are you imagining?
I hesitate, glancing over at Zack. His focus on the tablet is unwavering, completely unaware of what I’m about to confess. I bite my lip, a reckless thrill pulsing through me.
Me: I dream of him almost every night… I wake up in a sweat. Every detail of our kiss in the conservatory… it was… God, Camille, it was incredible. And he didn’t even really touch me like that.
Camille: Wait, wait… tell me in detail. What happened in that kiss to drive you this crazy? You mentioned it, but it’s been days now and you’re still talking about it.
My cheeks flush just remembering it. I lower my voice further, almost as if whispering it makes it more real.
Me: He looked at me like… like I was the only thing that mattered. Then he leaned in, and I felt his arms around me… And when his lips touched mine, it was like… God, I could have given him everything right there.
Camille: And since that kiss, it’s all you think about?
Me: Yes… and more. I wonder what he’d do if he really touched me, if he decided to take control.
I pause, glancing at him again, feeling that reckless need building.
Me: I think about him when I go to bed, Camille… if I could… I’d let him do whatever he wants to me, here in Rome. Just to feel him.
Camille: Oh my god, you’re completely screwed. And I love it.
I laugh under my breath, feeling bolder with every word.
Me: You know, he’s so strong. I saw him working out a few days ago and I couldn’t look away… his shirt was soaked with sweat, and he kept going without even catching his breath.
Camille: So? Tell me, what were you thinking while spying on him like a little pervert?
I close my eyes, remembering that exact moment, the way he’d looked when he took a breath, muscles taut, sweat glistening on his skin.
Me:I thought he could lift me with one finger… that if he really wanted me, I wouldn’t stand a chance resisting.
Camille: That’s exactly what you want, isn’t it? To have no choice. Just you, at his mercy.
Me: Yes, and that every move he makes, I feel it everywhere… like every fiber of my body is under his control.
Camille: And you wake up thinking about all that… sweating and ready to scream his name?
My pulse races, and I laugh softly.
Me: Fuck, yes.
Camille: Then what are you waiting for, darling? This trip to Rome is your chance.
Me: Oh, no, I love Brett. Zack is just a fantasy, Camille.
Camille: So you say?—
Me: Yes, he’s… strong, and… darker, but Brett, he’s like… a ray of sunshine. Zack, he stirs things in me, but it’s nothing real. Plus, you know I’m still a virgin… I’m not about to mess that up like this. I have a career to focus on, and Zack’s still an ass, even if…
I trail off, glancing over at Zack, reassuring myself that he is not hearing any of this. But just as I let myself feel that relief, he suddenly lifts his gaze from his tablet and catches me staring. My heart stops. His eyes hold mine for a beat, long enough that I feel exposed, like he’s seeing right through me. I snap my gaze away, feeling my cheeks burn.
Me: Camille, he just looked at me. Why would he do that? I’m scared. I think he might understand French.
Camille: Oh my God, girl, you’re screwed… do you really think so though? Maybe all rich guys understand second languages…
Panic seizes me, my pulse racing out of control. I feel my face turn red, and my mind jumps to every single word I’ve just said. God, if he caught even a little bit of that… Then he sighs, lowering his tablet with an irritated look, and his voice cuts through the air, sharp and commanding.
“Stop staring at me. You’re distracting me,” he says. He says this in English, each word clipped and impatient. I release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, a wave of relief washing over me.
Me: I don’t think he understood… Thank God. I think I would have thrown myself off this plane if he did.
Camille: Oh, poor Jenny. You’re doomed. But I love seeing you in this mess.
I hate it, but still I laugh softly, still shaken but feeling a little more grounded. I lean back in my seat, closing my eyes, letting the relief settle in, knowing that this is a game I shouldn’t play too seriously—but somehow, I just can’t stop.
Me: I have to hang up… if I keep going, I think he’s going to throw me off the plane. He’s busy and I’m distracting him.
Camille: Alright, but remember… have fun, and if you ever find yourself in a situation where you don’t know what to do, call me.
I laugh softly, the tension easing just a bit, but I still feel my heart racing.
Me: Love you, Camille. Talk soon.
Camille: Love you too. Call me soon, okay?
With that, she ends the call, her laughter still echoing in my mind. I lean back, letting out a long sigh. I can’t stop thinking about everything we talked about, her words looping in my head. Finally, the exhaustion pulls me under, and I drift off.