Page 58 of French Kiss

22

The Morning After

July12

Paris - Morning

I’d forgottento shut the curtains, so the morning sun streamed insistently through the windows, urging me to get up and go outside. I’d fallen into such a deep sleep that for a moment, I forgot where I was. Then I remembered I was in Paris, not in Belgium with Shelby and Amrita, and the previous day and night began gliding through my mind. Maddox, the Eiffel Tower, the boat, the rain, Josh.

The best parts of the night filtered back, my heart warm and full with the memory of falling asleep intertwined with Josh. I lay in bed, savoring that feeling, until I turned my head, expecting to see him sleeping on the pillow next to mine. But that side of the bed was empty, the pillow dented with the memory of a person no longer there.

My heart started thumping, the ideas coming fast. Josh freaked out… he couldn’t face me in the light of day… he hopped on the first train back to Germany… Most of the details from the night before came back in emotional waves—warm happiness when I thought of Josh holding my hand as I fell asleep, longing to kiss him again, then embarrassment at whatever I might not be remembering.

But now he was gone.

I had no recollection of him leaving. Maybe I’d passed out and forgotten about him telling me this had all been a mistake. Maybe he’d hurriedly put his clothes on and gone back to his hotel the minute I fell asleep. My mind was still unfurling the worst scenarios, painting myself in the most unflattering light—desperate and sad, destined to be alone—when I heard the key in the door.

The fog of wine and confusion had me pulling the covers up under my chin, drawing the most logical conclusion that someone from the hotel housekeeping team was coming to make the bed, and I was still naked. But a moment later, the door opened, and Josh was standing there, holding a paper bag, a bundle of flowers, and a large bottle of water.

When he saw me, he started to laugh. “Good morning. You okay?”

“I’m just… confused. I thought you were in Germany.”

“Now I’m confused. Why would I be in Germany?”

“I figured… I don’t know, morning-after regrets?”

“Regrets that would send me to another country? Please. Do I look like a guy who has any regrets at all?” He smiled, but I was still half-asleep, and I couldn’t have said what kind of guy he looked like. “I am a little hungover, though, I think. What did we drink, a liter of wine? Each?”

I looked around the room, which looked pinker in the bright light of day. On a chair was the jacket he’d worn the night before. If I’d noticed that earlier, I might not have assumed he’d run back to Germany. I was probably hungover as well, but my brain and body were still muddling through the basics.

“How long have you been gone?”

He shrugged then looked at his phone. “I guess about two hours. I couldn’t sleep once the sun came up, and I didn’t want to bug you, so I hopped in the shower and went out for a walk. I know you like your sleep.”

“Need. I need my sleep. I wish I could get by on less.” It had been a discussion on many an occasion because Josh was one of those people who felt great after sleeping for six hours. He could also fall asleep anytime, anywhere, if he was given the opportunity, which said to me that he really was sleep-deprived even if he didn’t want to acknowledge it. We’d discussed that too.

I looked at him through my still-bleary eyes. His hair was slicked back, and he looked fitter and taller than he had for the past three years.

Or maybe I’d never really seen him.

The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and behind the exterior was a wry, funny guy who was so much more than a one-night fling. In the morning light, I found him just as attractive as I had the night before. It hadn’t been an alcohol-fueled dream. Well, it had definitely been alcohol fueled, but I didn’t feel embarrassed or regretful about anything that had happened.

I exhaled a sigh of relief. The night before had been amazing, and here he was, smiling at me with a paper bag in his hand. And flowers.

Josh still looked tentative, standing in the doorway. “Is everything okay? You seem, I don’t know, like you’re scared of me or something.”

I looked down at the covers, which I still had tucked protectively under my chin. “I thought you were housekeeping.”

“Ah.” He took a step closer, and the door closed behind him. “I’m not.”

“I see that.”

For a moment, Josh seemed to forget he was holding onto a bouquet of roses. Then he looked down and extended them toward me. “I saw these, and it reminded me of how much you like to watch the sun set over the bay at home.” He bent down and kissed me lightly before laying the flowers on the pillow next to me. They were ringed in orange petals with an intense yellow center. They did look like the sun.

“You’re so sweet. They’re gorgeous.”

He held out the bag to me. “I also got a bunch of pastries. Croissants, pains aux raisins. There’s about a pound of butter in here.”

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