CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
NATHAN
THE SUN STREAMED through the city skyline outside my window, casting golden streaks across the room. The warmth of the morning light filled the space, a gentle reminder that the world outside was calm and bright.
It matched the unusual clarity in my head.
I scrubbed a hand over my face, the remnants of sleep clinging to the edges of my mind. The sheets were still warm from where I’d been tossing and turning all night, but for once it wasn’t restlessness that had kept me awake.
It was Elise.
The kiss lingered in my mind. Her lips were soft, full, and far too easy to get used to.
I’d kissed plenty of women before. All of them forgettable. But last night? That hadn’t been forgettable.
And that was exactly the point.
Not because I didn’t want it—I did. More than I should. But Elise Alexandre wasn’t just another woman. She wasn’t supposed to matter beyond the plan I’d built. She wasn’t supposed to make me feel this way.
My goal hadn’t changed. She needed to fall in love with me.
She needed to say yes when the time came.
She needed to want this. But now, I had a clearer idea of how to make that happen.
Small gestures. Surprises. A day in Louisiana, the way she’d wanted.
Control? Yes. But calculated charm, too.
A strategic advantage wrapped in something that looked effortless.
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, the morning sunlight spilling across the room in golden stripes. It was the kind of brightness that made me want to move, to act. Today had a purpose.
I made my way over to Elise’s room after getting ready for the day. After knocking twice, the door opened, revealing Elise who looked beautiful this morning in a pretty powder blue halter top, tiny denim shorts and sneakers.
“Good morning,”
“Good morning. Are you ready to head to the airport?” She asked.
“Change of plans.”
Her expression shifted from surprise to confusion. “What do you mean?
“We’re staying another day.”
Her eyes widened. “But our flight is in three hours.”
“Cancel it.” I paused. “I believe there’s a speakeasy you wanted to see.”
Her expression softened, surprise giving way to delight. “You mean you’re actually taking me there?” Her grin was wide, infectious. “I thought you’d want to head straight back to LA once the Darryl thing was sorted.”
“Changed my mind.” I said, letting a smirk tug at the corner of my mouth. “Today, you’re in charge.”
“Elise and Nathan take Louisiana?” she teased, shaking her head. “I like it. Okay. Then we’re tourists. Try to keep up, Edge.”
I let her excitement guide me as we stepped out of the hotel and into the morning air. The streets of New Orleans were alive with sunlight, the warmth on my skin a stark contrast to the tension of the past week.
Breakfast was our first stop. The smell of fresh pastries and roasted coffee drew us towards a place nearby.
I ordered a black coffee for myself and one with a ridiculous amount of sugar and cream for Elise.
When I noticed Elise eyeing a beignet with a mixture of longing and hesitation, I added one to our order.
“Open.” I ordered.
She hesitated for a split second, then parted her lips. I guided the bite carefully to her mouth, watching her eyes widen as the warm, sugary pastry melted against her tongue.
“Mm…” she murmured, cheeks coloring slightly. “That’s wow. That’s really good.”
I smirked, taking the opportunity to tease her a little. “Glad you approve.” I leaned closer, brushing a small speck of powdered sugar from her upper lip with my finger. “You’ve got a little something here.”
Her hand shot up instinctively for a napkin. "That's not embarrassing.” She blushed, reaching for a napkin.
I held up a finger, cutting her off. “Relax. I’ve got it.” Before she could protest further, I leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to the spot, smearing the sugar just slightly, leaving a faint sweetness behind.
Her eyes went wide, lips parting in surprise, though she quickly masked it with a soft laugh.
I raised a brow, letting the moment linger just long enough to make her pulse quicken. “There. All handled.”
Elise ducked her head, a warm flush spreading across her cheeks, but there was no mistaking the spark in her eyes. It wasn’t a surprise; this was our third kiss already, but it left her feeling completely flustered, her usual composure faltering just enough to make my grin widen.
“Thanks.” she murmured, still trying to regain control.
“You’re welcome,” I said, taking a slow sip of my coffee, enjoying the way she fidgeted ever so slightly.
We left the café hand in hand or at least close enough that our fingers brushed more than once. The French Quarter greeted us with warmth and color, sunlight bouncing off cobblestones and brass instruments. Musicians filled the streets, their horns blaring joy into the humid morning air.
“Let me know when you’ve reached your quota of fun for the day,” she teased.
“You try your first beignet and now suddenly your wise-ass.” I retort back, making Elise giggle.
She led the way through the Quarter, stopping to admire painted masks and street art, sampling pralines, and snapping photos like it was her first vacation in years. Somewhere between Jackson Square and the riverwalk, we stumbled onto a parade. Brass band, umbrellas, dancers, and all.
Elise froze, eyes wide. “Oh my gosh, it’s a second line!”
Before I could ask what that was, she grabbed my hand and tugged me straight into the crowd. “Come on!”
I barely had time to protest before we were swallowed up by the music, which consisted of drums pounding, trumpets wailing, and people cheering as confetti drifted through the air. Elise moved like she belonged there, hips swaying, arms lifted. Her laughter rang louder than the horns.
“I like this side of you,” I said, my hands on her waist.
“I like it too,” she shot back over her shoulders, breathless.
The music shifted, slower now, a deep rhythm rolling through the street. She turned in my arms, chest brushing mine, her smile softening. For a moment, the chaos melted away until it was just her and me. The sunlight catching in her hair. The pulse of the city beneath our feet.
I drew her closer, one hand sliding to her lower back as we moved in time with the music unhurried, natural, and intimate.
“This isn’t part of your tourist itinerary,” I murmured.
“It is now.”
The world faded to the sound of brass and laughter, the warmth of her body pressed against mine. And when the parade finally passed, she looked up at me with eyes that said more than either of us was ready to admit.
***
THE SPEAKEASY WAS an unmarked door behind a bookstore, just like Elise said.
I could practically feel her buzzing with excitement as we were let in. “I can’t believe we actually came.”
Inside, the lights were low, music soft and sultry. The air smelled of citrus and oak. Elise’s smile was all wonder as she looked around, and I felt that rare, dangerous tug in my chest again.
“This day,” she said quietly, “might actually be perfect.”
I leaned in, voice low enough only she could hear. “It’s not over yet.”
I watched her turn in a slow circle, her hair brushing her shoulders as she took in the velvet booths, the golden light, the glint of bottles behind the bar.
The joy on her face hit something deep in my chest. I’d seen Elise smile a thousand times.
She had her professional smiles, polite smiles, the kind that came with charm and restraint. But this one? This was real.
“You really surprised me today. I didn’t think you’d actually want to explore the city.”
“I don’t usually make a habit of sightseeing,” I admitted, guiding her toward a small corner booth. “But I make exceptions for things worth seeing.”
Her eyes lifted to mine, searching, playful but unsure. “And what exactly was worth seeing today?”
“Your smile,” I said simply.
The word hung between us, soft and steady. No smirk. No teasing. Just the truth.
A flicker of something passed over her face, something I couldn’t name. She looked away first, glancing at the menu even though she clearly wasn’t reading it.
We ordered cocktails. Something sweet for her, something darker for me and when the drinks arrived, the tension between us felt thicker than the honeyed air around us.
Elise took a sip of her drink, her lipstick leaving a faint mark on the rim. “I’ll give it to you,” she said after a moment. “You’ve been different lately.”
“Different?”
“Yeah,” she said, tilting her head as if studying me. “Less deserving of the name me and my best-friend came up with for you.”
I arched my brow. “And what name is that, Cupcake?”
She shook her head, grinning. “I can’t tell you.” Her tone was teasing, but there was warmth there too, a gentleness I was getting used to. It stirred something inside me I hadn’t planned on acknowledging.
I leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. “You know, I didn’t just bring you here for the drinks.”
She gave a skeptical little smile. “No? What then?”
“For this.” I gestured around at the music, the hush of conversation, the glow of candlelight painting her skin in gold. “You’ve been working nonstop. You deserved something better than just business.”
Her lips parted slightly, and for a heartbeat, she didn’t have a comeback. “Thank you.” she said softly, but I could tell she didn’t know what to do with the way I was looking at her.
The band shifted to a slower rhythm, something low, sultry, and heartbreakingly romantic.
I stood, extending my hand. “Dance with me.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Here? Now?”
“Why not?”
She hesitated for a second then slipped her hand into mine.
I led her to the small space near the band where other couples swayed under the amber lights. Her body fit easily against mine, her hand resting on my chest, her perfume a quiet distraction.
“You’re full of surprises today,” she murmured.
“Get used to it.”
Her laugh was soft, her head tipping slightly toward me. The music wrapped around us slow, smooth, and intimate. I could feel her heart beating, steady and strong against my chest.
“You know,” she said after a while, voice barely audible, “if you keep this up, I might actually start thinking you’re not as heartless as I thought.”
“Careful,” I murmured. “I have a reputation to protect.”
She looked up then, and something in her eyes flickered. It was something dangerously close to the same thing burning through me.
When the song ended, neither of us moved right away. The moment stretched, held tight in the quiet between heartbeats.
“We should probably head out soon,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction and she didn't make any effort to move.
“Probably,” I echoed. "But give me one more.” My hands settled at her waist again, like they belonged there.
Like she did.
So I didn’t let go.