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“But don’t dodge the question, Mr. Sneaky. I asked about your girls. I know there’s been a lot.”
Remy looked pained to talk about them.
“What do you want me to say?”
“Has there been anyone special?” I asked, hiding the terror I felt for his answer.
“No.”
“No one?”
“Not really.”
“Why not?”
Remy took a deep breath.
“I guess there are a lot of reasons. One was that I never felt comfortable dragging anyone into my world. It’s a lot to ask of someone. So, I didn’t allow any of them to get too close.”
“Hence the charm offensive.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re very charming, Remy. Don’t pretend you don’t know. But it’s like the way you always make fun of Cali, isn’t it? It’s because you don’t want to reveal who you really are, which is a soft, caring guy.”
“What are you trying to do, get me killed? Because in the world I grew up in, that’s what would happen to the guy you described.”
My heart broke for Remy.
“What was it like growing up thinking that? It must have been torture.”
Remy’s eyes drifted away from mine. For the first time, I saw his true self, the one that guarded himself for self-preservation and hated it. His charm was gone. His defenses were down. It was just him, the guy I had gotten glimpses of since I was 14.
“It’s not fun,” he admitted, showing the strain from the weight he carried.
“I’m sorry,” I said, leaning across the table and asking for his hand.
Staring at my hands, I didn’t think he was going to take them. But reluctantly, he did. And for a moment, I sat with the man I always knew was buried inside. It was a version of Remy that I loved.
We sat in silence for a while before the attendant offered us drinks, breaking the mood. That was fine because it allowed our conversation to resume. When it did, Remy told me about his hobbies and his favorite TV shows. We even talked about our favorite style of underwear. His was boxer briefs. Yum! Mine was a bikini.
“Nice,” he said with enough suggestion that I blushed. “You’ll have to model them for me. Maybe you’ll get me to switch.”
“Maybe I will,” I said, feeling the alcohol and wanting his large hands all over me.
By the time the plane descended, it was dark outside. How long had it been?
“Where are we?” I asked, seeing city lights below us. Scanning the landscape, I suddenly knew. “Paris! We’re in Paris!”
“Are we?” Remy asked innocently.
“That’s the Eiffel Tower!” I exclaimed.
“You sure it’s not Vegas?” He asked, teasing my heart.
I quickly turned back to the window. As I did, the plane turned, giving me a better view.
“That’s the Arc de Triomphe… and the Louvre,” I said, whipping back to face him in excitement.
