Chapters (71)
- Epigraph
- 1. Barrett
- Barrett
- 2. Chloe
- Chloe
- 3. Barrett
- Barrett
- 4. Chloe
- Chloe
- 5. Chloe
- Chloe
- 6. Barrett
- Barrett
- 7. Chloe
- Chloe
- 8. Chloe
- Chloe
- 9. Barrett
- Barrett
- 10. Chloe
- Chloe
- 11. Barrett
- Barrett
- 12. Chloe
- Chloe
- 13. Barrett
- Barrett
- 14. Chloe
- Chloe
- 15. Barrett
- Barrett
- 16. Chloe
- Chloe
- 17. Barrett
- Barrett
- 18. Chloe
- Chloe
- 19. Barrett
- Barrett
- 20. Chloe
- Chloe
- 21. Barrett
- Barrett
- 22. Chloe
- Chloe
- 23. Barrett
- Barrett
- 24. Chloe
- Chloe
- 25. Barrett
- Barrett
- 26. Chloe
- Chloe
- 27. Barrett
- Barrett
- 28. Chloe
- Chloe
- 29. Barrett
- Barrett
- 30. Chloe
- Chloe
- 31. Barrett
- Barrett
- 32. Chloe
- Chloe
- Epilogue
- FOUR MONTHS LATER
- Sneak Peek
- Thank You
- Also by Erin Hawkins
- About the Author
“Hey.” Barrett shifts under me to look around.
“Hi. We both fell asleep.”
He laughs, rubbing his face.
Michelé says something in French that Barrett must understand. He shakes his hand, then tips his head at me.
“Bonjour,” I say, excited to use one of the few French words I know.
We walk over the bridge to get to the other side of the river.
“Are you hungry?”
“I don’t think I’ll ever be hungry again.” I press a hand to my stomach where eating for a day in Paris has made the waistband of my shorts tighter. “But walking feels good.”
He nods, and we walk in a contented silence. Our path uncertain, but directed by the warm glow of the city’s greatest landmark.
My feet are exhausted from exploring the city today, but as the sky has darkened, there’s a new feel in the air. Nighttime in Paris is a whole other experience, and I don’t want to miss a minute of it. The people gathered on patios, eating and drinking, the fluidity of their spoken words while foreign is hypnotizing. And there’s music. A woman’s soft, yet captivating voice reaches us from afar.
As we walk through the Jardin du Champs de Mars, the source of the music becomes apparent. On one side of the green space, a small band is performing. It’s an informal concert, with many couples and groups stretched out on blankets enjoying the performance.
“What about dancing?” Barrett asks.
“I thought you weren’t a fan of dancing.”
Wordlessly, he wraps his left arm around my back, then takes my hand in the other. I put my free hand on his shoulder. He pulls me close and leans down, his lips brushing against my jaw before he whispers, “There are many things I wasn’t a fan of before.”
He doesn’t elaborate on what those things are or what he means by ‘before.’ He doesn’t have to. I know the feeling.
There, in the city of lights, wrapped in Barrett’s arms, I realize this fake relationship is quickly starting to feel very real.
27. Barrett
CHAPTER 27
Barrett
Watching Chloe take in Paris is doing funny things to me.
I’ve been here countless times, but I’ve never experienced the city before like I am with Chloe. She wants to see everything, try everything. Her constant wide-eyed stare as she takes it all in is intoxicating.
Not to mention the way she looks right now, her hair wild from sleep, spilling over her shoulders as she rides me.
Last night, we’d fallen into bed, our bodies exhausted from jet lag and a day of sightseeing. We found our pleasure quickly before drifting off to sleep, our limbs tangled in the sheets.