Page 47 of French Kiss

19

This Guy

July11

Rodin Museum

I studied Josh,who was walking all the way around the fountain, gazing at the sun’s reflection on the water. He’d grown his hair out a little longer in the past couple of months, and it was casually combed back so I could really see his face. And the few days of scruff from not shaving gave him an edgy attractiveness. He’d always had nice cheekbones, and his grey-green eyes, instead of seeming ordinary, looked warm, kind, and welcoming.

He was the same guy I’d been friends with for three years, and he looked almost the same as when we’d first met, but I knew him so much better after all that time, and what I knew made him attractive.

Or maybe I’d just never allowed myself to see him as more than a friend before. Maybe I’d been afraid of what that might mean.

Josh completed his circle. He extended his hand to me and pulled me up to join him on the path. “You need to check out the rest of this place while we’re here. There are all these little nooks with sculptures. We should walk.” He was already moving down a path that led around a purple-flowered hedge to a smaller path between the manicured plants.

I caught up to him and grabbed his hand, the same one he’d extended to pull me off the bench. He looked down at our clasped hands for a second then up at me, his eyes searching for an explanation.

I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure I had anything to say yet. But I didn’t let go.

We walked down every path in that garden, taking in the tiny signs displaying the names of different sculptures and plants. Josh didn’t drop my hand. When we’d seen everything, we left the museum and walked down to the Seine, where the Bateaux Mouches were swishing through the water, and I could hear the explanations in multiple languages from the guides on the large tourist boats.

“We should definitely do the Bateaux Mouches,” Josh said. “I know it’s touristy, but forget about the guides and whatever they’re saying about this building or that one. It’s more that the boats go directly under the Eiffel Tower when it’s lit up at night, and you can’t beat that view. And if we go at sunset, we’ll get great pics of that, plus all the sparkly monuments.”

“I’m not sure I’m so gung ho to head back to the Eiffel Tower.” The mere mention of it brought my mind back to Maddox for the first time in hours.

“Eh, you need to rewrite the book on that one. Think of it this way. It’s where you and I kicked off our fabulous afternoon in Paris.”

“True. That’s a much better angle,” I said.

Looking out over the water, which was shimmery blue in the afternoon light, I wanted to walk down one of the stone staircases that led to the banks of the river. We descended by the Pont de la Concorde, from which I could see the tall pointed obelisk that stood in the Place de la Concorde, between the Louvre and the Arc de Triomphe.

“I want to go there and there,” I said, pointing in all directions. “I may spend my entire trip in this city.”

We walked along the cobbled banks, where the air felt a few degrees cooler than it did closer to the streets. A few joggers blew past us. We were much closer to the tourist boats, but from water level, we couldn’t hear the tour guides, just the splashing water as they churned past.

“I don’t know how long you plan to stay here, but you could spend your whole time just looking at art. Between the Louvre, the Pompidou, and the Musée d’Orsay, you’d have a week’s worth of art to look at, and there are at least a few dozen more.”

“A few dozen?”

“Some museums are tiny, housed in old hôtels particuliers like the Rodin was, only not necessarily that size. But I assume you don’t only want to see art.”

“I don’t only want to see art, but I’d like to see some.”

“I’ll give you a primer before I leave,” he said.

My heart suddenly sank, and I looked away in case my expression betrayed my disappointment. It was the first mention he’d made of leaving, although of course I knew he wasn’t going to babysit me during my entire time in Paris. Not that I wanted or needed that, but I was so happy in his unexpected company. I wasn’t looking forward to seeing that end.

“So when are you heading back?” I asked, trying to sound casual. My mind was a jumble of feelings, unsure if I was suddenly feeling attracted to Josh because he was here or because he’d rescued me from abandonment or because I finally saw what I should have seen all along. I had no way of deciphering anything.

“I’m… I was thinking I’d go back tomorrow. There’s a train at nine.”

“Oh. Okay. Got it,” I said. He looked at me quizzically, but I said nothing. If he didn’t feel motivated to hang out with me for longer than an afternoon, that told me everything I needed to know.

“I mean, I can stay longer… if you want that. I don’t have any big plans with my parents.”

“I don’t want to put you out. It was so nice of you to come,” I said, and he smiled the same way he always did, but this time I noticed his lips and wondered what they’d feel like on mine. Then I stopped myself because it was crazy to be thinking this way about Josh.

“I can decide tomorrow. Nothing to worry about tonight.” He grabbed my hand to pull me across the street just as the light was changing, and we walked closer to where the Île de la Cité bisected the river. I could see a green triangle of park at the tip of the island, where dozens of people sat dangling their feet toward the water, basking in the summer warmth.

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