AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“For me to beg,” I whisper, the words only for him.
His delayed response almost makes it that much better. I’m already pulling away, phone in hand, when I catch a quiet “Good Christ” slipping from his mouth. My grin is instant.
“Sorry, guys. The plane ride must have taken more out of me than I thought,” I apologize to the waiting faces on the screen.
“That’s okay, honey. We’ll let you go before your brother steals the phone again to finish your argument. Call soon, okay?” Mom says.
From the corner of my eye, I catch Cooper pulling at the collar of his shirt and clearing his throat, fist to mouth. Pure satisfaction runs through me knowing he isn’t as immune to my presence as he appears to be. I’m not completely alone in that regard.
“Of course. I’ll call before we leave Paris.”
They approve of the idea, and then we say our goodbyes. It isn’t even a beat after I end the call that Cooper’s up and off the couch. I stifle a giggle in my wrist and watch him stalk toward the bathroom.
My eyes snag on his ass in the pair of tight khaki joggers he put on for the plane ride this morning, unabashedly checking him out. In my defence, it is a really great ass.
He’s about to shut the bathroom door behind him when I call out, “You never did answer me.”
My stomach tightens with anticipation as he stares at me, the look in his eyes sending my mind reeling with a world of possibilities. Most of which I know for a fact I shouldn’t be thinking.
“If I wanted you to beg, you’d know, Adalyn.”
15
COOPER
We spendthe next morning and afternoon at the Louvre before wandering back to the hotel to get ready for dinner. Adalyn listened to me gush about the art for hours without complaint. She nodded and awwed and asked more questions than I thought someone could possibly come up with on the spot.
Even if she did blurt out that theMona Lisawas incredibly underwhelming and earned several dirty looks from passersby, I couldn’t have asked for a better partner to share that experience with. She only spoke what I’m sure several others, especially those who don’t care for art the way I do, were thinking.
To me, it was a moment I will never forget. To witness such beautiful, historical work in person, even just for a minute . . . it’s life changing for someone like me.
I clear my throat and continue buttoning up my shirt. It’s warm tonight, and for the first time since we’ve begun this trip, we’re going to a nightclub. I’ve made a promise to myself to stay on a water-only diet tonight, and I intend to keep it. The last thing we need is to have a repeat of our night in Ireland. Although, I’m not sure what the alternative to getting married would be, and I don’t want to find out.
I glance at myself in the mirror and smooth my hands down my shirt, the silky material of it cool beneath my palms. The air conditioner blows loudly in the room, drowning out the music playing in the bathroom as Adalyn gets ready. Every once in a while, I can hear her belt out an out-of-pitch lyric or two, and I find myself smiling, knowing that she’s enjoying herself.
It’s odd coming to terms with an unexpected friendship, but with every moment I spend with her, the more I’m becoming addicted to her presence. To the sudden bursts of energy and fits of flirtation that are starting to leave me buzzing in their wake.Fuck, if Maddox could see me now.
I shouldn’t have been hurt that he didn’t tell me about his playoff loss. Not when I’m hiding something from him that will undoubtedly change our friendship. But in the moment, I couldn’t help it.
We’ve been best friends since we were in diapers. It feels like the ultimate betrayal to be standing here right now, ignoring the reality I’ll have to face the moment we touch back down in Canada. I have no idea how things are going to go once we face the music, but I can only assume they’ll be disastrous.
I adjust my watch and brush my finger over the inscription, making a mental note to check in with my mom tomorrow before she starts to worry.
“Ready?” Adalyn shouts over her music.
Moving away from the mirror, I knock on the bathroom door. The music quiets instantly before she peeks her head out.
She slowly rakes her eyes over me before whistling far too loudly. “I’m about to have the most handsome date in all of Paris.”
My face goes hot. “You’re a flirt.”
“You love it,” she sings before pulling open the door and twirling beneath the bathroom lights.
I don’t reply. Not because I don’t want to . . . but simply because Ican’t.
My head is void of anything but the image of her in front of me. The glossy pink lips spread in a shy, soun-Addie-like smile, bright blue eyes and matching silk dress that hugs her bodyjustright. Short sleeves, a slit up the thigh. A swooping neckline and two bumps over where her nipples should be. I gulp past the stone in my throat, unable to turn away like I should.
Her shoes make us nearly the same height, and as I grip onto the edge of the countertop for support, I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. She’s so close, and I don’t know if it was her who stepped forward or myself.
