He’s seated in the living room, laptop balanced on his legs, looking as effortlessly handsome as ever. Beside him is a bag fromL’Éclat d’Or, the fancy café we used to frequent when he was here a few months ago.
I decide to eat before getting dressed, so I make my way over and open the bag, pulling out my favorite: golden avocado toast. Before I can sit down on the couch, Calvin grabs me by the waist and pulls me onto his lap.
I giggle, squirming slightly. “Now you smell good,” he says, burying his nose in my hair and inhaling deeply.
I frown playfully, turning to look at him. “Are you saying Ididn’tsmell good earlier?”
He smirks. “No, you didn’t. You smelled like sex. But now, you smell like you again.”
I gasp in mock offense. “I smelled like both of us! And, for your information, most men in romance books love it when their women smell like them.”
He crinkles his nose in amusement. “Good thing I’m not a man in a romance book, then.”
I roll my eyes at him, laughing softly as he presses a kiss to my shoulder. The moment feels easy, the kind of comfortable intimacy that warms me to my core. With my toast in hand, I sit on his lap, savoring the quiet as he focuses on his laptop.
Once I finish eating, I slip off his lap and head to my room to get dressed.
I choose a pair of wide-legged jeans that fall effortlessly to my ankles, pairing them with a sleek black short-sleeved top. To elevate the look, I add short black heels, a matching purse, and a simple watch. For an extra layer of polish, I drape a light coat over my shoulders.
When I step back into the living room, his attention shifts from his laptop to me, his gaze warm and appreciative. Aslow, genuine smile spreads across his face, and it sends a delightful flutter through me.
“You look so beautiful,” he says softly, standing up to meet me. He leans in to press a gentle kiss to my lips.
“Thank you,” I reply, my cheeks flushing as his words sink in. I feel a giddy anticipation bubbling in my chest, excitement building for whatever he has planned.
He holds out his hand for me to take, his eyes sparkling. “Shall we?”
We step out of my apartment building, the crisp September morning air waking me up even further. Calvin leads me by the hand, his pace steady and relaxed as we walk. After about five minutes, we stop in front of a towering, gleaming building.
I frown, looking up at the elegant structure. “Why are we at a hotel?” I ask, confused. The modern architecture, valet parking, and impeccably dressed doorman all scream luxury hotel.
Calvin chuckles softly, his hand squeezing mine. “It’s not a hotel. It’s an apartment building.”
I blink at him, still skeptical. “No way. I’ve passed by this place so many times and always thought it was a hotel. Look at it! It’s too fancy to just be apartments.”
“Well, it’s definitely not a hotel,” he says with a smirk, leading me inside.
The lobby is even more opulent, with marble floors, chandeliers, and plush seating areas. I gape at it as we make our way to the elevator. “Okay, but why are we at an apartment building?” I ask, narrowing my eyes suspiciously.
He doesn’t answer right away, just presses the elevator button and gives me a knowing look. As the conversation we had last night clicks into place, my jaw drops.
“Oh my god,” I mutter. “Is this about Dylan and me living together?”
“Smart girl,” he teases, pulling me closer as we step into the elevator.
“Cal,” I start, exasperated, “this seems like such a waste. I only have two months left until I graduate. There’s no point in my moving now.”
His expression softens, but his tone is firm. “You promised me. And as your boyfriend, I’m not comfortable with you living with your ex… whatever he was. If the roles were reversed, how would you feel?”
I sigh, biting my lip. He has a point. If Calvin were living with someone he used to sleep with, I’d lose my mind. Reluctantly, I nod. “Okay, fine. But this still feels so unnecessary.”
“Not to me,” he says with a smile, and I can’t help but roll my eyes.
When the elevator dings, we step out into a pristine hallway where a tall, impeccably dressed blond woman greets us. Her French accent is unmistakable. “Monsieur Stirling,?1 always a pleasure to see you.” Her tone is warm as she eyes him with a smile that’s a little too wide for my liking.
Calvin, however, doesn’t even notice. His attention is fully on me as he introduces us. “Blair, this is Juliette. She’s showing us the apartment options today.”
“Enchanté,”?2 Juliette says smoothly, extending her hand toward me. Her perfectly manicured nails catch the light, gleaming like tiny daggers.
