One Summer in Paris(86)

And at some point she must have started crying again but she didn’t even realize until she felt him tug her into his arms and hug her. His touch felt safe and kind. She’d never had a boyfriend who cared before. Feelings had never been involved. Being able to tell him made the relationship feel special. She’d never thought that telling people could make her feel better.

“Shh.” He stroked her hair with his hand and pulled her onto his lap. He spoke in French, soft words that she didn’t understand but that made her feel better anyway.

Deep down she knew it was over now. If there was one thing a guy hated more than a girl spilling her guts, it was a girl sobbing all over him. Who was going to want a relationship with someone as complicated as her? It was summer in Paris. This was meant to be something light and fun and she’d just deluged him with her whole life story. It was like spilling the trash. She could have just given him a few of the lowlights, but no, she’d drenched him in sordid details.

She lay with her head nestled in the curve of his neck, horribly embarrassed. She didn’t know what to say. Given that she’d already said more than enough, she kept quiet. She could feel the warmth of his suntanned skin, and the roughness of his jaw where he hadn’t shaved. She breathed in, keeping her eyes closed. Etienne always smelled so good. She wished she could stay here forever.

People strolled past, enjoying the Paris sunshine, but Etienne didn’t seem to care.

He shifted slightly, but instead of nudging her off his lap, he held her closer.

“Do you want to go back to my place?”

She’d expected him to dump her. Maybe he was going to dump her, but he didn’t want to do it on the riverbank in public in case she turned into a water feature.

She lifted her head and looked at him.

His expression was serious. With his ruffled dark hair and incredible cheekbones, he looked like a moody actor. It was no wonder all the girls had been looking at him at the party. He was seriously good-looking.

“It’s okay.” She choked on the word. “You don’t have to be tactful. Just say it, I’ll be fine.”

“Say what?”

“You don’t think this is going to work. You don’t think we should see each other again.” She tried to wriggle off his lap then but he tightened his arms.

“Is that what you want? Do you want to end it?”

“No! But I just showered you with my personal crap and drenched your shirt, so I’m guessing you’re plotting the fastest route out of here. A relationship should be simple and fun. You’re probably thinking I’m too complicated.”

“That’s not what I’m thinking. To have dealt with all that—” He slid his hand over her cheek and turned her face to his. “And you got this job by yourself, and traveled here—I think you’re amazing.”

“Really?” She sniffed. “You think I’m amazing?” Apart from Grace, no one thought she was amazing. Not even her mother, and mothers were supposed to be programmed to think it, weren’t they? “You like my legs. And my butt.”

“That, too. But I also like you.” He smiled and lowered his mouth to hers. “I think you’re incredible.”

“I’m really not.”

He did tip her off his lap then, but only so they could both stand up. “We’re going back to my place so that I can show you how incredible you are.”

Audrey saw a couple give them a disapproving look. “I think you just told the whole of Paris.”

“I don’t care. I don’t care about anyone except you.” He locked her hand in his, and they walked the short distance to his apartment.

Inside, it was cool and quiet, and Audrey suddenly felt awkward. “I’m sorry about—well, all of it. I’m a bit messed-up, to be honest.”

“Stop apologizing. We’re all a bit messed-up.” He gave a funny crooked smile that did weird things to her insides. “What? You think you’re the only one with a complicated family?”

“Yours isn’t. You have this perfect family and it’s kind of embarrassing to admit that mine is all screwed-up.”

“I don’t have the perfect family. Not that it’s a competition but I’m willing to bet that my family is way more messed-up than yours. Or maybe just messed-up in different ways.” He walked through to the kitchen and found a couple of glasses.

“What? Are you kidding? You have this apartment that’s like something out of a magazine, and they’re away at their house on the C?te de wherever.”

“My mum is there, but she’s with my two little sisters. I don’t know where my dad is, but it’s a safe bet that he’s with a woman somewhere.” There was a bitterness to his voice that she hadn’t heard before.

“Your parents aren’t together?”

“In public they’re together. They are great at keeping up appearances, but behind the scenes it’s a different picture. I wish they actually did live apart because the things they say to each other are terrible. They close the doors, as if that makes a difference.” He opened the fridge and pulled out a jug of iced water. “They hate each other so much it makes me wonder how they ever got together in the first place. I mean, did they even love each other once or was it always a mistake?”

Audrey gaped at him. She’d had no idea. And surely she, of all people, should know that what you saw on the surface didn’t always reflect what was going on underneath.