Page 38 of Frenched (Frenched 1)
“Oh. My. God, Mia. Where did you meet him?”
Flipping on to my stomach, I told her all about my disastrous first evening and how I’d randomly wandered into the bar where he was working. “And the weird thing is, he doesn’t really even work there. It’s his brother’s bar or something, and he was just filling in.”
Coco gasped. “It’s fate.”
I shrugged and wound a strand of hair around my finger. Was there such a thing as fate? I wasn’t sure. “Anyway, he offered to be my tour guide for a day so I wouldn’t have to see Paris alone. I was ready to turn around and come home before that.”
“Sounds like it was a hell of a tour.”
“It was. I mean, it didn’t get sexy until late in the night, but when it did, it really did.” In fact, I was getting wet now just thinking about it. Damn.
“I just can’t believe it! So will you see him again?”
“Uh huh. Part two of the tour.” Which I hope ends the same way Part One did. Quickly, I counted the days I had left in my head. Five—although hadn’t Lucas said he was leaving Paris tomorrow? Shit. Maybe today was all we had left.
Coco sighed. “This is so amazing. Can I tell Erin?”
“Of course!” I tugged at my hair. “She’ll probably think I’ve lost my mind here.”
“No, she won’t! She’ll be thrilled, just like I am. You deserve this, Mia. And don’t start overthinking it.”
I sighed. “I’m trying not to. Last night I didn’t let myself start analyzing it at all. You would have been proud of me.”
“But you’re starting to second guess things now?”
I tugged harder on my hair. She knew me too well. “It’s so unlike me to act this way. And when I think about the circumstances…”
“Why do you have to think about the circumstances? How does it feel?”
I closed my eyes, and he was there. I could smell him, hear him, feel him... Warmth blossomed at my center. “It feels good.”
“Well then.”
“You’re sure this isn’t stupid? Or slutty?”
“What? No! Damn it, woman, you’re young and newly single. This is what you’re supposed to be doing! Now listen. I want you to be safe, but keep having fun and throw your fucking caution to the wind, you hear me?”
I laughed. “I hear you. And I’ll try. Sorry for waking you, I just—I had to hear you tell me I wasn’t crazy.”
“You’re not crazy. And I’m totally jealous. I love you—call me again, OK?”
“I will. I love you too. Bye.”
I hung up the phone and stretched, feeling a soreness in my limbs and abs that hadn’t been there yesterday morning, and it widened the secret smile on my face. When I got out of bed and walked to the bathroom, I realized I was tender in places that had not hurt for years. YEARS. Maybe not ever.
Under the hot spray of the shower, I washed my hair and lathered my body with shower gel, and as I ran my hands over my slippery skin, I recalled Lucas’s hands on me. And his lips. And his tongue.
And I nearly had to give myself number four because I got so turned on. No, don’t do it. I paused with my hand sweeping down my stomach. Wait for him.
But as I rinsed the shampoo from my hair, a cautious little voice inside me began to ask questions.
Was having sex with Lucas again a bad idea? Was I just setting myself up for more heartbreak? After all, he was leaving town the next day, and I was only in Paris for a short time longer. And what about after that? Would I ever see him again? Suddenly I felt like I’d swallowed a tennis ball.
Stop it right now. You are not planning a wedding with this guy. You are fucking him. You’re friends. And that’s perfectly OK. You do not have to think about the future, or even tomorrow. You have today and you can make it count.
Swaying back and forth beneath the water, I wondered if I could really do that—not worry about anything except being in the present moment.
You managed it well enough last night.
