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He releases a sigh, knowing our battle to be together is far from over.
“I’m here now.”
“Yes, you are, but for how long?”
“I have a flight out tomorrow at four, but for tonight, I want to take you out on a real date.”
“A real date?” I grin with an appraising glance. “How romantic of you. Do I get a clue?”
He shakes his head. “Not one single clue. I’ll be back in an hour. Be dressed and ready.”
“Wait, what kind of dressed?” I ask, still holding onto him. “You know, my wardrobe ranges from Dior to a potato sack.”
“You have a potato sack in your closet?”
“Yes, it’s called a failed purchase when Eric told me muumuus were in.”
Cupping my face with his hands, he kisses me deeply before pulling away, leaving me aching for more. “I’m sure you look sexy in a potato sack. But perhaps, to ease your mind, something more formal.”
“But why do you have to go?” I beg, clutching his shirt with my hands. “I like you here.”
“I have something to take care of. And if I don’t go, you’ll end up on all fours complaining about why you can’t walk. We’ve got plenty of time for that to happen, but only one night in Paris.”
With a final kiss, he exits my apartment, leaving me in my kitchen as I touch my lips, reminiscing about our kiss.
A night in Paris with Noah Mason is just what my heart so desperately aches for. My two greatest loves, together for one night, and with that thought, bringing the happiness I finally deserve, I realize it’s all too late.
I’ve fallen in love with my best friend.
And there’s no turning back.
KATE
“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”
On a beautiful Parisian night, Noah kisses my hand as we stroll along the street to an unknown destination. At least, un
beknownst to me. Noah knows exactly where we’re going.
In the eyes of someone so blissfully happy with a gorgeous man beside her, Paris has transformed into the most romantic city. As we walk past other couples, we nod, almost like a secret society of couples. Everything surrounding us feels so different. The streetlights are like stars above us, the flowers in the gardens are in full bloom, and perhaps, somewhere floating around us is cupid with his bow and arrow.
I’m drunk on happiness and not even sorry.
“We’re here.”
I follow Noah inside the building, past the concierge who graciously escorts us on the elevator ride up. As we reach the top floor, he holds the door open as Noah requests I close my eyes. Guiding me through a doorway, he tells me to open my eyes moments later.
We’re standing on a terrace surrounded by greenery and twinkling lights scattered around them. In the middle of the space is a small round table adorned with a white tablecloth and lit with candles. A bottle of champagne is sitting in a chilled bucket next to the plates and silver cutlery.
It’s all so breathtaking until my eyes glance sideways to sweeping views of the Eiffel Tower. Perfect and oh so romantic.
“You know, I’ve never been wooed before.” I sigh dreamily as Noah pushes the chair out for me to take a seat.
“Not even in the 1950s when that saying was used last?”
“Such a charming date,” I counter hopelessly. “I’m certain that part of wooing isn’t roasting the said subject.”
“Okay, I’m sorry.” He pouts, touching my hand while my stomach flutters in excitement. “You’re stunning, and I want all your clothes off by midnight.”
