Read with BonusRead with Bonus

Chapter 8, Esmeralda

Paris is one of the most beautiful cities I have ever visited. I cannot count how many times I came here but every time I do, it feels like I am still the same innocent 10 years old girl who was in love with the artistic side of the capital of France.

After Milo announced that we would be going on a trip, saying that I was in an utter panic would be an understatement. I had to pack my things, tell my parents, who were more than delighted that our "plan" was going well, and Rita, who only advised me to take care of myself. Then, he picked me up from my house and we went to the airport. I slept for half the flight, and it went surprisingly well, considering that he was actually being nice. We did not bring up the modeling event night and I was more than grateful that he acted like nothing happened.

Well, technically nothing happened besides you embarrassing yourself in front of him, but that wouldn't be the first time, right ?

When we finally arrived, I met some of Milo's filming crew and the producer of the movie, they got someone bring our luggage to our room, and they let us take a walk in the city.

Right now, him and I are on our way to dinner, we walk side by side, not holding hands and occasionally having small talk, which has become an an easy thing by now.

"My Mom and Dad met here, right next to La Seine." I say, with my lame french accent, when we walk past the lake.

He turns towards me, raising an eyebrow at me. I slide my arm around his and he stiffens for a moment, then relaxes into my unfamiliar touch. His body is burning hot, even with the cold weather of Paris, and I almost purr at how good he feels.

It's summer but it's cold, which doesn't really make sense to me, but the beauty of the city compensates for how horrid the weather is.

"They take Rita and I back here at least one time a year. By now, I practically now the city by heart. I even learned how to speak some french."

He might already know that, since we've known each-other for our whole lives, but I inform him of it anyway.

He smirks at my small rant and says, "Say something in french, then."

I frown, my cheeks burning with embarrassment and something like joy that he is actually interested.

I look into his green eyes, and for a single instant, we're just a boy and a girl again. I am fourteen again. Fourteen and in love with my best friend. We were so innocent back then, the only thing that mattered to us was that we were together.

He stares right back at me, and I realize we stopped walking. My heartbeat picks up an impressive rhythm, and my chest heaves loudly as he looks at me with that overwhelming intensity.

I say the first sentence that comes to my mind, and maybe I am a fool for saying this, maybe he learned french in the two years we've been apart, but I don't find it in me to care.

"Je n'ai jamais vraiment cessé de t'aimer."

I never really stopped loving you.

As soon as the sentence leaves my mouth, he narrows his eyes.

"And what does whatever you said mean ?" He asks.

"It means that I am very hungry, and that we should really go eat before everyone in this city hears my stomach's complaints." I lie, smiling at him, and when he seems inclined to protest that I'm not telling the truth, I urge him to step forward.

"There's this italian restaurant that I know, and I'm pretty sure you'll love it."

We are back at the hotel and I have to admit that I almost asked Milo to carry me all the way to the hotel because of how full I was after dinner. He insisted to pay for all of it since I was the one who came up with the idea, and did not even leave me time to protest, before he got up and payed the bill.

By the time we arrive to the hotel, I am exhausted and my legs menace to give out.

The receptionists give us the key to our room, and as soon as I step forward and open the suite door, I gasp.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Milo tenses and looks over my shoulder to see if anything is wrong.

"What is it ?"

It looks like a normal room, it's spacious, and the kingsize bed takes half the space.

But there is something wrong.

The kingsized bed.

"There's only one bed."

I turn towards him, expecting him to look half as scandalized as I am, but he just shrugs and walks past me, entering the room.

"What did you expect ? The whole world thinks we are dating, did you expect my crew to pay for a room with two beds ?"

He is not wrong. Maybe I should ask someone to bring one more bed in here, there's enough space and-

"And you cannot ask anyone to bring us another bed, if you do, it might raise suspicions about our relationship. By now, we probably have about a hundred articles about us being here in multiple magazines." He intervenes, as if reading my thoughts.

I immediately deflate, and make my way inside as well, closing the door behind us.

I sigh, taking my coat off. "Alright then. I guess we're roommates for the week-end."

He only nods at me, suddenly looking smug.

He excuses himself to the big marble decorated bathroom to give me the privacy to change.

I hear the shower turn on and relax a little bit, enjoying some time by myself.

I open my suitcase and put some of my clothes in a part of the immense closet, then put on some shorts and an oversized t-shirt. I wipe my makeup off, deciding that I'll take a shower tomorrow since I prefer to do it on the morning, and of the other things I am grateful for is that the room is so big, it even has two toilets, so I go pee, then, as tiredness takes over, I get on the bed and snuggle up in the silky blankets and close my eyes, trying not to think too much about the fact that I will be sharing a bed with freaking Milo Chase who, a month ago didn't even want anything to do with me, and now I am fake dating him.

Fate works in weird fucking ways.

After a few minutes of wondering how I will convince him to sleep on the floor, I hear the bathroom door open, and Milo gets out. In the darkness of the room, I can see his silhouette. He is shirtless and his hair is still damp and wet from the shower he just took.

He doesn't say anything and walks to the bed.

" What are you doing?" I ask.

He stops moving and furrows his eyebrows at me, confused.

"What do you mean?"

"You're sleeping on the floor." I try to sound as convincing as I can, but the words just get out as if I am asking.

He let out a soft chuckle that made my body go stiff. Oh how I love that sound.

"Like hell i am, move over"

And without a word, I do. As he joins me, I move as far away from the other end of the bed as possible.

Silence.

I lay on my back, looking at the ceiling, and wondering if I should say something. His breathing is still regular, but I don't know if he's asleep or not.

Finally, I decide to break the silence.

"Are you asleep ?" I asks so quietly that I cannot hear myself.

"No." Is the only answer I get.

I know I should stop at that, but I am a stubborn woman, so I add, shifting to my side, "I can't sleep..."

"Don't ask me to read you a bedtime story, because i won't." His voice is raspy and sleepy, and a chill goes through my body.

I smile, and turn to face him. I, once again, lose myself in his green eyes, and even if the room is plunged in darkness, I can still see how deep and beautiful they are.

"My dad used to read me bedtime stories all the time." I put a hand under my head, with a little grin.

"Did he, now ?" He muses, with a hint of a smile.

How could he be so pretty ? How could he make me feel so many things at the same time ?

My eyelids suddenly feel heavy as the tiredness and sleepiness of earlier takes over.

"Goodnight, Milo." I murmure.

"Goodnight, love." Is the last thing I hear.

Previous Chapter
Next Chapter