Page 39 of The Daddy’s Girl

“So has that cute, clumsy American texted you yet?”

I blush, a smile creeping across my face. “Yes. He texted me the next day, actually.”

“Spill. My sex life has been so fucking abysmal lately, I need to live vicariously through you.”

“Ha!” I say loudly. “Me? You’re better off asking Freya when she gets here.”

I haven’t told either of my best friends about the incident in the voyeur room. It’s practically eating me alive to keep it from them, but it feels too personal for Matis. And I can’t betray his trust.

Just then, a vision in blue and purple turns the corner and comes walking toward us.

“Oh my gosh, is she alone?” Weston asks with astonishment.

“It’s a miracle!” I reply.

Freya throws her head back and laughs. “I do have a life outside my relationship,” she says defensively. As she comes up to meet us, we exchange hugs, and it feels good to be with the two people who I can just relax and be myself around.

“Not much of one,” I tease.

She curls a lock of hair behind her ear. “You wouldn’t want to leave either if you knew what I was doing all afternoon.”

I screw up my face in disgust as Weston grabs her arms.

“Please tell me everything.”

Her eyes widen with shock, making me laugh.

“It’s okay. I’ll just pretend it’s Henry Cavill again instead of my brother.”

As the three of us walk down the busy road in the 11th arrondissement, I try my hardest to put all the events of this past week behind me. That night with Matis in the club created a divide between us. We still talk and discuss the app, but it’s not the same. Just when it felt like I was getting closer to him, that happened and now we’re further than ever.

The three of us are going to an immersive digital art exhibit that features Freya’s favorite psychedelic rock music and artwork from Paris’s history. It’s not Weston’s scene at all, but he’s been working so much lately at both Legacy and Geo’s that he desperately needed a night out.

We pick a fondue restaurant for dinner before the show, and while we’re sitting in front of a giant wheel of melting cheese, getting tipsy on bubbly champagne, I get a text on my phone.

There’s a subtle hint of disappointment when I see Jacob’s name on the screen.

Jacob: Hey! I’m gonna shoot my shot here. Would you like to go out for drinks tomorrow night?

With a smirk, staring down at my phone, I hover my fingers over the keys.

A date. This is what I’m supposed to be doing.

Amelia: Sure! I’m in.

He takes a while to respond, and I start to second-guess if my response showed the proper amount of enthusiasm.

Finally, he texts back.

Jacob: Sorry, I was freaking out for a second.

I giggle down at my phone, and Freya notices immediately. “Who are you talking to?”

Judging by the edge of concern in her voice, I can tell she’s hoping that I’m not smiling at messages from Mr. Off-Limits. It’s not that Freya doesn’t like Matis; she’s just worried about me. And I don’t blame her. As my best friend, she has courtside seats to my unending romantic torture. Freya is just Team Whatever Makes Me Happy.

And lately…that hasn’t exactly been my crush.

“Jacob,” I say proudly. “He asked me out on a date tomorrow.” Then I glance down at my phone, and my face falls. “Oh wait.”