Page 41 of Frenched (Frenched 1)
Giving in to guilt, I bought the two scarves, folded them up in my bag, and went out to meet Lucas on the sidewalk. The afternoon was still overcast, but even the soft gray light seemed pretty, and I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of the cool breeze on my face and arms.
In a moment I heard Lucas’s voice. “I got you something.”
I opened my eyes to see him standing there with a plain brown paper package. “You did? Why?”
He shrugged. “I’d been thinking about it since yesterday. Open it.”
Half of me wanted to berate him for buying me a gift and the other half was too excited to keep my hands from tearing open the bag. Inside was a paperback book with a medieval painting of a man and woman on the cover. I read the title and gasped.
“The Love Letters of Abelard and Heloise!” I clasped it over my heart, which had skipped several beats. “I don’t believe it!”
“Do you like it?” His expression was endearingly hopeful.
“Are you kidding? I love it! Oh my God, Lucas!” I threw my arms around him, and the force nearly knocked him backward. He laughed as he steadied us both, his hands on my hips.
“Good. I wasn’t sure they would have it, but I’m glad they did.”
Reluctantly, I released him. “Are the letters in French?”
“Well, originally they were in Latin, but they’ve been translated. This is an English bookstore.” He gestured behind me.
“Oh, Lucas, I love it. I can’t wait to read them.” My eyes were a little misty, and I struggled to swallow. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I hope you’re not mad—they’re romantic and all.”
I slapped his stomach with the book before dropping it into my bag. “I’m over being mad. I’m all about the romance of Paris now.”
“Good to know.” He took the brown paper bag from me, wadded it up, and tossed it in a nearby trash container. “In that case, how would you like to see my favorite romantic place in the entire city?”
I flashed him a coy smile. “Is it your apartment?”
He laughed. “No. But it’s not far.”
“Good. Because I might need a little rest after all this excitement.”
“Well,” he said, putting his arm around my shoulder as we walked, “you’re definitely invited back to my apartment later, but I can’t promise you’ll get any rest there.”
I tipped my head onto his arm. “God, I love Paris.”
But what I nearly said was God, I love you.
How crazy was that?
#
On the Metro ride over to the Rodin museum, which was where Lucas was taking me, I asked him if he’d ever had a serious girlfriend.
He looked at me sideways. “Why do you ask?”
I shrugged. “Just curious, I guess. You mentioned this place is your favorite romantic spot in Paris, so I assumed…”
“Oh. Well, yes I had a serious girlfriend for a while, but no, I never took her to the Musée Rodin. She’s in New York.”
A quick stab of jealousy made me press further. “How long were you together?”
“About three years, off and on.”
It surprised me, for some reason. “Wow, that’s a long time.”
