The job, the duty, the legacy etched into me since childhood. And yeah, the guys—Devin and Alex, my two closest friends.
But watching Frankie ramble excitedly about brushstrokes while Devin nudged her shoulder with his, laughing softly, I realized my priorities had shifted, quietly but completely.
The four of us had become…something I couldn’t quite name. My new order, maybe. My real family.
If I had to, I would burn the old one to keep this new, precious thing safe.
Hours later, we drifted through the streets with street food in hand—crepes dripping with syrup, warm pastries, nothing with the nutrition we needed, but it was whatever our girl wanted, and I was learning that she had a sweet tooth.
Frankie ate like she hadn’t been fed in weeks, and her joy was so bright my chest felt too small to contain it.
When she licked chocolate off her thumb, Devin nearly walked into a lamppost.
I didn’t blame him.
As twilight deepened into night, Paris unfurled around us like a living, breathing dream.
Frankie looped her arm through mine, leaning into me.
The kind of casual affection that would have terrified me months ago. Now it made my throat tighten.
Before we returned to the hotel, an idea slid quietly into place.
“Come with me,” I said.
Devin raised a brow.
Frankie perked up instantly. “Where?”
“You’ll see.”
I made one discreet call. A friend of a friend who owed me a favor. Ten minutes later, we were being ushered past a line of tourists and into a private entrance at the Eiffel Tower.
Frankie’s hands flew to her mouth. “Jonathan?—”
“Just wait,” I told her, even though watching her awe was almost better than the view would be.
The elevator carried us up, the city shrinking below in a patchwork of gold and silver. When we reached the top platform—empty, silent, glowing—Frankie stepped out like she was afraid the magic might vanish if she moved too fast.
“Oh my god,” she whispered.
Paris glittered beneath us. The tower itself glowed like molten gold, and the chill of the wind up here was exhilarating. Devin’s hand found the small of her back. Mine brushed her arm. She looked between us, eyes soft and shining, not just because of the lights.
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt…” She shook her head, lost. “This.”
“What’s ‘this’?” Devin murmured.
“I don’t know,” she whispered, laughing. “I’m just…like, really happy. Is that insane after all the stuff we’ve been dealing with?”
“No,” I told her, certainty finding me as the words did. “Finding that is the whole point. It’s the reason we’re here. For you.”
“All for you,” Devin echoed, his voice low with a husky edge.
She stepped closer to me first, fingers curling into my shirt. Then she reached for Devin too. Her cheeks flushed, not with embarrassment but with intention. Confidence. Hunger that matched mine—Devin’s too, I’d be willing to bet. For the firsttime, Frankie was the one to lean in, to initiate, to ask without speaking.
“Frankie,” I breathed, my pulse jumping in my skin. “We’re at the top of the Eiffel Tower. Not exactly private.”
Her lips parted. Her eyes lowered. When her hands slid up my chest, slow but sure, heat coiled low in my spine. I knew, then, that privacy wasn’t what she was after. If anything, the public nature of it, the impossible taboo, may have been stoking her need higher. I met Devin’s eyes and saw a similar glint there. A dare, maybe. The two of them tempting me into a mischief I hadn’t indulged since I was a much younger man.
