Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
“I do not—” I pause. “I promise I’ll try not to.”
“Good enough,” he mutters. He releases my hand and wraps his arms around my shoulders from behind. His chin settles on my shoulder, and he turns his lips toward my ear. “You asked me why I was here. The answer is because I missed you.”
His words spread through me, sending adrenaline pumping through my veins, giving my heart a reason to thump extra loud. They finally settle into a warm glow in my lower stomach.
“Ty?”
“Yeah?”
I cross my arms and slide my hands along his forearms. My face tilts toward his until his lips are touching the corner of my mouth.
“I missed you, too.”
He nudges my face around a little further and brushes my lips with his. “What if I told you I managed to convince your boss to give you five days off of work?”
“What?” I jolt back. “You got Donny to give me another five days off? Why?”
“Dayton is going to Paris to meet with her dress designer—for real this time.” He smiles wryly. “Aaron is going, too, and since I have nothing booked for next week, I thought we’d join them.”
Paris? For five days? With Tyler?
“Where would we stay? At their place there?”
He shakes his head. “My parents own a hotel there. I reserved us a suite earlier today.”
Paris? For five days? With Tyler? Alone?
“Why?” I narrow my eyes.
“No need to look so skeptical.” He steps toward me and cups my chin. “I have an ulterior motive for whisking you off to Europe.”
I wrap my fingers around his wrist with a small smile. “Surely that’s reason for skepticism.”
He opens his mouth then closes it again. He nods once, his eyes sparkling. “Fair enough. No, I want to shoot you. For fun. Paris is a breathtakingly beautiful city.” He leans in so his lips touch mine when he speaks. “And I can’t think of a more perfect place to put you.”
My lips twitch against his. “I have nothing packed for it.”
“Dayton’s at your apartment right now. They’re meeting us at the airport in Paris.”
“But we don’t have tickets.”
“We don’t need tickets.”
I blink at him. “Um, to fly on a plane, you need tickets.”
Tyler pauses. Then his lips quirk, and he fights a laugh. “Oh, Liv, babe… We’re not flying Air France. We’re flying Air Stone courtesy of my parents.”
Of course we are.
“Have you ever had a proper French pastry?”
“What part of ‘I’ve never been to France’ don’t you understand?”
Tyler grins and pushes me back down on the bed. “You know, when I call you my bitch, I don’t mean it in a literal sense?”
I poke my tongue out at him, snuggle back under the sheets, and yawn.
“Okay, tired bitch, I’m going to get you pastries. I’ll be a while, so get some more sleep if you can.” He leans over and kisses my forehead.
I sigh as the front door closes. I’ve never had jet lag like this before. I’ve never been so time-fucked that I want to carve out my brain with a dessert spoon.
My phone buzzes from the nightstand and I reach over blindly. I smack the top of the stand several times before I find it and tuck it under the covers with me.
What are you doing today?
Dayton texts.
Waiting in bed for some hot British guy to bring me pastries.
Under the thumb!
Or hankering to be my boyfriend that’s really a boyfriend.
And boy, he really is. When we landed late last night, he wouldn’t let me so much as touch my suitcase before he handed them off to a porter. Then when we got up to our suite, he made me tea and called down for toast and bacon.
Now, he’s getting pastries.
But shit. The guy brought me to France. And our relationship that isn’t really a relationship is beginning to feel exactly like a real relationship. I mean, the forehead kiss. You don’t forehead kiss a girl you’re just fucking or a girl you care about. Nope. You forehead kiss a girl you want to be with because you know if she wants you too, it’ll make her spine tingle.
I am tingly. I’m frickin’ vibrating from that one brief touch. I can still feel the warmth of his lips on my skin. Because, goddamn it, he’s a real man. Only a real man could kiss my forehead with the barest of touches and set me on fire.
How is your relationship that isn’t really a relationship?
Hovering somewhere between a relationship that isn’t really a relationship and a relationship that could be a relationship.
SQUEEEEE!!
Did she just fucking squee at me? Paris messes with her head, clearly.
Don’t ever squee at me again,
I shoot back. Seriously. No one in their right mind should ever squee.
Sorry. I just want you to be happy.
I am happy. I was happy before I met Tyler. He just makes me a little…happier.