We didn’t leave the Eiffel Tower until she’d come again. I grinned, thinking of how naughty it was. Her pussy dripping with her own well-pleased arousal and both our cum, soiling her pretty panties, her tights ripped to shreds.
Fuck, Ireallyliked the Eiffel Tower. And the landmark was pretty cool, too.
20
ALEX
I woke up in Paris, sprawled on the uncomfortable hotel settee, already braced for another day of avoidance once I opened my eyes.
Avoidance had become a skill—one of my best, honestly. I’d been perfecting it ever since we arrived in Paris: staying holed up in the hotel room to heal, answering work calls no one actually needed me for, letting Jonathan and Devin be the ones orbiting Frankie while I kept a safe, cold distance.
She didn’t seem to notice how deliberately I’d been pulling away, or if she did, she didn’t say a word about it.
But I could tell that she was…checking on me. Every night. Every morning. Every time she walked past me, caught a glimpse before I made some excuse to be gone all day on “business” I never explained, she’d give that soft, earnest look like she was trying to make sure I still existed.
It shook something loose in my chest in ways I didn’t want to think about. Growing up, that kind of warmth didn’t exist. And when it did, it came with a price I was never willing to pay.
So when the knock sounded at my door just after breakfast, I had a whole speech ready about how I was busy, or tired, or both.
But then it was Frankie.
And Frankie smiled at me like I was something fragile.
“Alex?” she asked quietly. “We’re getting ready to go to Shakespeare & Company. I was hoping, well, I want you to come with us.”
My mouth dried out.
The sweetness was a trap. Had to be. Nothing that gentle ever landed on me without an explosion right after. I should’ve said no. I almost did. The failed mission was the reminder I needed she couldn’t be a permanent fixture in our lives.
But she stood there in a soft sweater and messy hair, picking at her sleeve like she was nervous to even ask.
Just for once, the shield cracked.
“Yeah,” I heard myself say. “Alright. Yeah, I’ll go.”
Since you asked so sweetly,I resisted saying. The flirtatious words wouldn’t taste right on my tongue. Not when we weren’t having sex.
Her entire face lit up. Like I’d given her something precious instead of the bare minimum of human effort.
Guilt crawled in behind my ribs, but there was no time to process or even shove it down properly into the deep, dark recesses of my shriveled heart, because then we were off to the bookstore.
Shakespeare & Company was some kind of dreamland for Frankie. Old wood, crooked shelves, tiny staircases.
Frankie drifted through the aisles like the place was built out of stardust.
Jonathan kept pace behind her like a devoted guard dog; Devin snapped pictures of her when she wasn’t looking.
I stayed close but not too close, hands in pockets, watching the way she touched every book with that same reverent gentleness she gave people. It made me restless. On edge. Like the space around me was too small.
She’d look over her shoulder sometimes just to make sure I was still there, and every time she did, something soft and dangerous unfurled in my chest.
“Alex, look,” she whispered at one point, tugging me toward a display of old poetry editions. “They’re all annotated. Someone left whole stories in the margins.”
She handed me one, eyes bright. So trusting.
I swallowed hard. “Yeah. It’s…nice.”
She beamed.
