“I’m fine,” I reply with a rebellious wave of my hand.
“Suit yourself.”Luca chuckles, placing his hand on the small of my back, steering me out of the apartment.
* * *
About two blocks into our walk, I understand why he questioned my footwear.Cobblestones!Everywhere!I thought the little alleyway last night was a one-off situation, but boy, was I wrong.
“You should have warned me,” I say, leaning into him for support as my heel wedges between a stone.
“I tried,” he quips, steading my wobbling frame with one hand, assisting me down the idyllic, but in my opinion, unfunctional street.A smallI-told-you-sosmile pulls at the corner of his mouth.
“You could have been more convincing,” I add, wearing a teasing grin as my heel catches yet another stone.I use the opportunity to cling tighter to him.
I feel his body rumble with laughter.“You’re finding this amusing, aren’t you?”I tout.
“Is it that obvious?”He grins, his single dimple mocking me.
“Okay, so maybe you were right.”Leaning into him, I take a deep breath, expecting a whiff of Luca’s intoxicating scent, but instead I’m greeted with a burst of buttery goodness mixed with toasted bread and spices—a pleasure for my senses.
I look up to find the quaintest little boulangerie with patrons spilling out of the building.Full tables of content people, laughing and chatting without a care in the world, line the narrow cobblestone passageway.
“Hello, Paris!Nice to meet you.”I make a sweeping motion with my free hand.
Luca bursts into a boisterous laugh.
“What?”I question.
“I like experiencing Paris through your eyes.”
My cheeks redden as I attempt to control the smile overtaking my face, but I can’t hold it back any longer.“This place is something else, Luca.I can’t believe you get to live here and experience all this beauty every day.”
“C’est Paris,” Luca states proudly.
I’m in absolute awe of everything we pass, from the magnificent stone buildings to the fabulous boutiques and restaurants, all beautifully decorated for Christmas.I mentally note them all, creating an itinerary—if I stay.And right now, that’s a bigif.But he clearly doesn’t seem like he’s in a hurry to get rid of me.
“So, how far away is your brother’s place, anyway?”I pull back to look him in the eye.
“Not far for someone in flats.”He smirks.
I playfully nudge my shoulder into his.I know we’ve just met, but I feel like we’ve quickly fallen into a rhythm.
Luca clears his throat.“We’re in the sixth arrondissement—think of it like a neighborhood.”
I tilt my head toward him, twisting my mouth upward.“I know what an arrondissement is, thank you very much.”
“Okay, okay.Not everyone’s an expert like you.”He laughs, tossing his free arm into the air.“So, we’re in the sixth, and Henri lives in the fifth, the Latin Quarter.We’re left bank kind of guys.Always have been, always will be.”He chuckles.
“I can see why,” I add, my gaze floating from one dreamy building to another.
“I thought since it’s a nice day, we could cut through the Jardin du Luxembourg.Snap a few photos for your blog”—he winks at me—“then it’s just a few more blocks.”
“I still don’t know about the whole blog thing, but I’d love to see the gardens.”
“Eh, come on, Jemma.You said you want to write a travel blog.You’re traveling, so blog about it.Easy.”
“It seems like a waste of time, since I won’t be able to keep up on it when I get a new job.”My stomach dips at the thought of starting from the ground up all over again.
Tension seeps back into my bones.The carefree Jemma from moments ago is quickly replaced with the overthinker shell of a person I’ve been for the past few years.My face drops, and my pace stalls.
