Page 46 of The Enemy of My Enemy Is… My Fake Boyfriend?

Why the fuck had I even suggested going to Paris? What the hell was wrong with me? We could have just as easily gotten our revenge on Chase from home.

"Don't you think?" Aria said.

I'd completely missed whatever she'd been talking about. "Hmm?" I asked.

She glanced over at me, then did a double take, turning her body more completely to look at me, her mouth popping open."You look pale. Like really pale." Her gaze dipped downward to my hands. "Holy shit. Are you afraid of flying?"

"Uh, I just don't like heights."

Her eyes went to the window and the scenery whizzing past as we raced down the runway.

"And yet," she paused for a moment, "this whole Paris thing wasyouridea, and you obviously knew in order to get there we'd have to fly across the entire Atlantic ocean."

"Please don't talk about that," I muttered.

She smiled, her lips clamped together, while she leaned back in her seat again, looking straight ahead where the two flight attendants sat for take-off.

I knew it was imminent, that we'd be in the air in seconds, any second now we'd be airborne, flying high above—

A hand landed on mine, warm and soft, almost otherworldly like an angel had been sent down to help me. She squeezed, and I let up on my death grip to flip my hand around. To my surprise, she intertwined her fingers through mine and placed our clasped palms in her lap where she added her other hand, enveloping me.

"Can I just tell you how excited I am about this all?" she gushed, not even acknowledging that this was our first real act of intimacy, that I could soak in the warmth of her, smell her sweet lotion, feel the silkiness of her skin.

But then again, maybe what she was doing was for the benefit of the flight attendants. Yeah, that made more sense. Any time we were in public or in front of others, we had to act like a real couple. And real couples held hands supposedly.

She started talking about the gala nonstop and then her dress, something about how it complemented the floral theme, with elegant ruffles on the long skirt. "...and it'slight purple, which I know sounds hideous, but it's all so subtle and comes together tocreate this romantic, beautiful dress with a really high thigh slit and a plunging bodice to show off the girls."

Wait, the girls? Was she serious? That certainly caught my attention and distracted me. And before I knew it, the flight attendants unbuckled their seatbelts and got to work in the galley, meaning we were already up in the air somehow and I'd missed the whole thing.

"I see what you did there," I interrupted Aria when she paused for a split second to take a breath.

"What?" she asked innocently, still looking straight ahead, before she continued talking, telling me more about how she was excited to see what the décor would be, that she hadn't actually been to any real French galas and she couldn't wait to see everything, the venue, the floral arrangements, the cutlery, the entire set-up. She went on and on about all her ideas, and I focused on every word, not just as a lifeline of sorts but because it was also interesting.

This girl had passion.

I couldn't help thinking of before when I knew her simply as Chase's girlfriend, then fiancée. She seemed so different to me back then, like a snobby, silver-spoon-fed society girl without a care in the world, looking down on all theplebeians from her penthouse.

But that image of her had changed lately, especially as she still clutched my hand in both of hers while she spoke endlessly about her job and how much this trip to Paris meant to her.

"I mean, I guess I could have gone any time I wanted to really. But I don't like to travel alone, which yeah, I know, what kind of independent woman does that make me?" Without waiting for an answer, she continued on. "The only people I would want to go with would be my sisters. And it's nearly impossible to coordinate our schedules in New York, let alone to go abroad. So that's why we haven't been since we were kids."

She barely paused to take a breath, her eyes looking out the window again which I studiously avoided.

"And you might wonder why I didn't ever go with Chase. And that's because I did go to London with him once.Once," she emphasized. "And I found out he's a terrible traveler."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

Her laughter rang out. "You know how when you travel, you run into all kinds of unexpected little situations that are out of your control?"

I nodded, intent on every word.

"Well, let's just say he did not handle that well. At all."

I chuckled, once again wondering why she'd ended up with that asshole in the first place.

"Even just crossing the street was a big deal, Chase always whining about having to look thewrongdirection." She did air quotes around the word wrong. "And one time, when he almost got hit because he forgot to look and didn't wait for me, he got so pissed at the driver like it washerfault. And don't even get me started on the food. Like nothing satisfied him. Nothing. Even though we were of course going to the highest end restaurants there. On my dime by the way."

"Yourdime?"

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