before dropping onto my chest, heaving
“I love you. I love you, Jessica.” Luke breathed.
“I love you too.”
LAURA & JOSH
LAURA & JOSH
LAURA
The gallery had shifted into full–party mode around me. What had started as quiet conversations and polite laughter had turned into dancing, music blasting, and way too many people getting drunk. Gorgeous French women and men were everywhere, dancing close, laughing louder, stumbling a little as they clinked their champagne glasses. I’d barely had two glasses, and I was already itching to leave.
But I knew Jess and Luke probably needed more time, so I stayed, hanging near the edges of the crowd, feeling awkward and totally out of my element.
That’s when a French guy with dark eyes and a dramatic scarf over one shoulder slid up next to me, flashing a grin he clearly thought was charming. “Mademoiselle, you’re like a dream,” he said, his French accent thick as he leaned in closer.
“Uh, thanks,” I said, inching back a step. But he didn’t take the hint. Instead, he wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me in as he leaned down, his mouth aiming for a kiss.
I dodged to the side…
in time, and he nearly stumbled into the wall, barely catching himself. He turned back, giving me a dopey, unfazed. smile like he thought it was cute. I rolled my eyes, muttering a quick “Sorry” as I turned to make my escape.
And then–bam–I ran right into something solid.
Big hands caught me by the arms, steadying me before I could trip back. My eyes locked on the chest in front of me, my heart skipping. I didn’t need to look up to know who it was. The scent, the size, those familiar
LAURA & JOSH
hands that seemed to burn where they touched me. There was no mistaking him.
Josh.
He was actually here…
snapped.
“Sorry!? I don’t need an apology! I don’t care if you’re sorry! Go apologize to some other girl you ruined. This girl–doesn’t need it.
I turned on my heel and stormed out of the gallery, the city lights sharp and almost blinding as I stepped onto the street. I’d had enough for one night. Enough of Josh, his stupid apologies, the way he could look at me and just wreck me all over again.
I didn’t notice he was following me until I was halfway down the block. I stopped the sound of his footsteps unmistakable behind me, and turned, throwing him the harshest look I could muster. “Just leave me the hell alone, Josh!” I shouted, barely able to keep the tremor out of my voice.
The last thing I wanted was him seeing me like this–still affected, still torn up over him.
But he didn’t listen. He closed the gap in three long strides, and before I could take another step back, he grabbed me gently but firmly by the arm, guiding me toward the recessed entrance of an office building. My back hit the cool glass door, the city noise muffled as we slipped off the sidewalk, and suddenly, we were crammed together in a narrow passage, the walls pressing in like they were daring me to move.
My pulse pounded as I looked up, his face inches from mine, the streetlights casting shadows over his intense, unreadable expression. Without a second thought, I lifted my hand to slap him, but he caught my wrist mid–air, his grip gentle but unbreakable.
His eyes flicked from my eyes to my mouth, lingering there. And before I could catch my breath, he lifted my arm over my head, pinning it against the wall as he leaned in.
His lips brushed against mine, a whisper of a kiss that sent a shockwave through my body. For a heartbeat, I let myself melt into it, let myself feel
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