Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Brooke
To say my European vacation hadn’t gone quite as planned would be an understatement.
I’d been pickpocketed in London. I’d chased the girl down, ripped my purse from her arms, and made her cry. I hadn’t truly cared, and the moment had gone semi-viral on the internet. But I had my purse, my ID, and what little money I had for the trip.
I’d missed the train twice, all because people kept standing in my way and refused to “let the young idiot by”—at least that’s what some man in a business suit had mumbled.
I had tripped over a curb on my way to the Louvre and skinned my elbow, as well as put a hole in my favorite jeans.
Then a bird had pooped on me, but apparently that was supposed to be good luck.
I only had a couple of more weeks in Paris, and then I would be going home.
Away from the very odd, not so great vacation. The one that was supposed to begin my life as an adult where I could start over. Where I would head to California, begin college, and begin my new life.
Of course, as I lay on top of a very attractive man, with firm muscles that oddly held me close, I realized my humiliation in this country wasn’t going to end anytime soon.
People walked past us as if I hadn’t run straight into a man and dropped every flower I had just purchased all around us.
They looked down at their phones, or spoke on them, and walking in their quick way told me they had places to go, but at the same time, they would take a leisurely pace if they wanted to.
Because nothing was too important to stress about.
But I still found myself draped over a stranger as a few people stared.
“Hi,” I said, blinking and wondering when the mortification would go away. “I’m Brooke.”
The man below me smiled—a slow smile that crept over his face, brightened his eyes, and made my breath catch. “I’m Leif. And you’re still on top of me.” His lips quirked as he said it, but I noticed he didn’t let go of my hips. Those large, firm hands seemed steady in place.
My eyes widened. “Oh. Sorry.” I scrambled off and ended up on my knees. He got to his feet in a swift movement without any strain at all and held out his hand.
“Are you okay? I’m sorry for running into you.”
My cheeks heated, and I shook my head, and then nodded, realizing I wasn’t answering his question. “I’m fine. Mortified. But totally fine.”
He squatted next to me and tilted his head as he studied my face.
“Let me help you pick up these flowers, because we’re already the tourists that made a scene for them.
They’ll be able to tell their friends the story of the two Americans who decided to rumble in the middle of the market. We shouldn’t waste the flowers.”
I grinned and then let out a sigh. “I’ve had a really weird vacation so far, so I’m not surprised that I’m making a scene.”
“Since you most likely bruised me, don’t bruise my ego. Get a coffee with me.”
I couldn’t help the snort that escaped. “That was a marvelous line.”
He beamed and looked twice as sexy. Damn, this man was a problem. A good problem. But still. “I’m really proud of it. What do you say?”
I met his gaze, my mouth going dry just staring at him. “Coffee sounds good.”
As we picked up the remaining flowers, and he shielded me from others nearly running into me since they weren’t paying attention, I had a feeling my vacation was looking up.
* * *
One week later.
“I hate your ex,” Leif said as he tangled his fingers with mine. I rolled my eyes and brushed my shoulder against him as we made our way down the block.
“I’m not a fan of him either. But that’s what high school boyfriends are for. Either you love them forever, or you never want to see them again. Thankfully, he’s off to the East Coast for college, and I won’t have to think of him again.”
“And you got on the plane.” Leif smiled down at me, and my heart kicked.
When I had joked with my friends about finding a Parisian hookup, or even just a summer fling for my end of high school, beginning of college vacation, I hadn’t expected for it to truly happen.
And frankly, even if it had, I hadn’t expected it to happen with a guy from the same city I lived in.
I wasn’t supposed to meet a guy from Colorado when I was in Paris.
I was supposed to meet a cute French boy who wanted to show me the local eats.
We would have a mad affair, before we ended it, and it would be something I could tell my kids about in a far-off way just like Rose did on Titanic.
Except for the fact that I was not Rose, Leif was not Jack, and there was plenty of room on that door.
“Are you sure the girls don’t want to join us?”
I shook my head, and we turned the corner, heading towards yet another cafe.
“Bethany is off with some guy she met at a party last night. Charity is with her boyfriend.” I rolled my eyes.
“They broke up after graduation, and then he showed up, stalking her thanks to having her location on his phone, and she took him back. I don’t understand it, but they seem happy now, and I guess I’ll have to pick up the pieces—unless they break up after we get back to the U.S.
Because they’re staying in Colorado, and I’m not. ”
Leif squeezed my hand, and I once again had to remind myself to stop talking about California.
Leif and I were enjoying each other’s company, as both of us were here for similar and yet vastly different reasons. He was in an art program, learning new techniques that would help him be a tattoo artist—something that was incredibly sexy.
And I was trying to live life and not stress before I knew I would be working far too hard in classes, making sure that science was the way that I wanted to go. A new life, a new destination, and Leif wouldn’t be there.
And why did that feel so disappointing? Why did that settle so much disappointment on my shoulders even after only a week?
We found the cafe one of Leif’s art friends mentioned, and we took a seat out on the patio so we could people watch.
I loved trying to figure out what people were thinking, or why they would be walking down that street at that particular time, and I knew Leif wanted to focus on the way people moved differently, what they wore, their shapes, sizes, anything that could lead to art.
He had an exam coming up, one that I knew was stressing him, but he took every break he could to be with me, even in this one week.
And I loved the way that he tasted.
I loved the way that he put his hands on me to tell me exactly what he wanted.
“Look at that blush. What are you thinking about?” he asked as he met my gaze.
“Stop.”
“Are you thinking about exactly what we did last night?” A single raise of his eyebrow, and I wanted to throw a balled-up napkin at him. But we were trying to be the nice tourists. Not the ones they made stories about.
“Bonjour,” the waitress said as she came forward.
We each ordered a drink, and while he went for a normal latte, I went for the special.
The waitress gave me a small smile but couldn’t help but give fuck-me-eyes to Leif.
I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes, because frankly, I felt like I was usually doing the same to him.
Leif Montgomery was attractive, sweet, and slightly possessive.
We’d only known each other a week, and I knew it was going to be hard to say goodbye to him.
But having him for these few moments had to be worth it. Right?
When the waitress walked off, Leif settled back in his seat and smirked. “What is that face for? I want to know what you were thinking about earlier?”
“No, you don’t.”
“Oh really? Did it have to do with how you helped me figure out my shower this morning?”
“Oh yes. Because you are so inept when it comes to working the shower in your tiny apartment. Poor you.”
“I wouldn’t have been able to reach that lever without you.”
I pressed my lips together, trying not to burst out laughing as the waitress handed off our coffees. She spilled mine a little, her gaze only for Leif’s drink, but he stared at me.
“Is lever a euphemism here?”
“Well, you did help me with that too.”
I rolled my eyes. “You are ridiculous. But I’m glad that you have the afternoon before you have to go back to class.”
“We’re doing an all-night session, and I am excited for it, but I’d rather be with you.”
My heart thudded, and I had to wonder why these lines were working. Probably because they weren’t truly lines.
“Leif—”
He held up his hand, his gaze penetrating. “Take a sip of your coffee, and don’t stress. We’re just in this for the moment, right?”
“Right,” I whispered. My stomach flipped. “Just enjoying Paris together.”
“Exactly. Now, where are you and your friends going tomorrow?”
“We’re heading to Versailles.”
His eyes widened. “Really? Which tour group are you taking?”
I named the tour group, and he nodded. “My professor recommended that one. The place is gorgeous. So much gold.”
“We paid for the extra tour so we could learn more about Marie Antoinette. The history always plays her as such a terrible person. And while she was still royalty who probably didn’t care about those below her, not in the way that we would want to romanticize, she was still just a kid when they groomed her.
A woman without any ability to defend herself or have autonomy. ”
“I didn’t take that extra tour, and now I feel like I missed out.”
“I would invite you, but the girls promised they wouldn’t bring their guys, so it’s just a girls’ trip.”
His lips tipped into a smile. “So you can’t bring your guy?”
“Fishing, are you?” I ignored the butterflies in my stomach.
“Sip your coffee, and I’ll tell you.”
I sipped the lavender honey latte and moaned.
“I realize it’s sacrilege for some places to add flavoring to coffee, but this is brilliant.”
“Let me have a taste.”