“Why haven’t you done that already?” I murmur, surprised he would even be able to do that, and he shrugs.
“I didn’t have a reason to.”
My throat dries at his admission. “And now you do,” I breathe huskily, and he hums in agreement.
“Don’t think you’re cooler than you are,” he retorts, using my own words back at me, and I can’t stop the grin from spreading across my face.
I shake my head when my cheeks start to heat, but before I can speak, he goes first.
“I guess we should go back then.” My smile drops instantly. He presses off the counter in a heartbeat, taking a step toward me. “What’s wrong?”
Embarrassment threatens to creep up my spine, but I suck it up, refusing to let it get the better of me. “Nothing, it’s just, I’m in freaking Paris and I have to leave before I’ve even had the chance to see the Eiffel Tower,” I admit, watching his lips form the most perfectOthat ever existed.
“We could make time for that,” he offers after a moment, making my heart stutter in my chest.
“We could?” I breathe as he steps closer to me, a grin forming on his lips as he nods.
I don’t know what comes over me, but the second we’re toe to toe, I reach my arms out, unraveling them from around my waist to tighten them around his. I think I startle the both of us as my breath hitches and his body stiffens. Slowly, he pats my back gently, somewhat returning the embrace, and before I can bottle it, I lift onto my tiptoes to bring my lips to his ear. “Thank you.”
My heartbeat rings in my ear as I finally allow myself the luxury of acknowledging the fact that he actually freaking rescued me just like he promised. His hands smooth from a pat to a gentle embrace before he takes a step back, wrapping his fingers around my upper arms as he stares down at me. Emotion swirls in his eyes, but I can’t decipher it with him standing this close.
“Let’s go show you the Eiffel Tower,” he murmurs, that same wide grin spreading across his cheeks again as he nods at me. “But you’d better shower first, you’re gross.”
“Wow.”My mouth parts, the soft word leaving my lips as a breath while my heart pounds in my chest. I can’t comprehend what I’m seeing, never mind how it makes me feel inside.
I’m not even actually there yet. Thorne insisted on capturing my first glimpse of the Eiffel Tower fromRue de l’Université.I had no idea what that meant, but the other tourists are all gathered down the cobbled street too, taking snaps of the iconic masterpiece before us.
“Do you want to get closer?” he asks, nodding toward the tower of steel, and I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, nerves getting the better of me. Before I can formulate an answer that doesn’t involve me dismissing the offer, he places his palm at the small of my back and guides me closer.
I can feel every inch of his hand, and despite the layers of fresh clothing between us, my skin still heats at his touch. It’s distracting and infuriating all at once, but I bottle it up and focus all of my attention on the attraction growing taller with every step we take.
We’re silent as we bumble through the security lines like everyone else, a normal factor for me, but it feels strange knowing there’s a shadow fae right behind me, unbeknownst to those surrounding us.
Stepping under the steel, I crane my neck back, trying to fully grasp just how big it is. I sense Thorne’s absence the second his hand falls away. I almost pout, but deep down, I appreciate the moment to myself. The atmosphere is euphoric, an air of awe and bewilderment as I let my eyelids fall closed.
For a moment, just one, I imagine my life isn’t crazy. For just this second, I’m Elodie Blackwood, the high school dropout from across the pond, standing beneath the Eiffel Tower. As soon as I let my mind wander, there’s no stopping it.
Imagine I’m not a dropout.
Imagine I am just a girl with a dream that led me here.
Imagine I am standing beneath something so extravagant, yet longing to go back to a place where I felt safe, loved, and cherished.
A knot forms in my stomach as nausea threatens to rise in my throat, forcing me to open my eyes. Pressing my lips together, I turn my attention to Thorne, who stands a few feet away, but instead of gaping at the tower in awe, his gaze is set firmly on me.
I’m locked there, staring deep into his eyes as seconds stretch between us, both of us too scared to blink. It’s only when a little child toddles between us, squealing, with his mother a step behind him, that our gazes drop.
Thorne clears his throat as he takes a step toward me, but instead of reaching for me like last time, he stuffs his hands into his pockets. “What else would you like to see?” he asks, and I shake my head, the knot in my stomach growing tighter as my chest starts to ache.
“After all the walking you’ve made me do already, nothing,” I murmur as a couple a few feet away giddily take a photo together with the legs of the Eiffel Tower arched around them.
“Do you want me to take your photo?” he offers, slipping his cell phone from his pocket, but I shake my head.
“No,” I breathe, my voice raspier than usual, and he cocks a brow at me.
“Why?”
“The memory is enough,” I answer truthfully. I will never get this moment out of my mind, I know it. Before he can push on the subject, I nod toward the exit. “I guess we should go.”
