Page 79 of Ex in the City
‘Me too,’ I say with a smile. ‘But I think he might be more than a best friend.’
Dylan can hardly contain his smile as he leans in to kiss me.
‘That’s all I need to know,’ he replies.
‘But listen, don’t blow off the tour,’ I insist. ‘Where are the others?’
‘Paris,’ he replies. ‘We have a show there in, oh, about sixteen hours.’
‘Dylan, no, what are you doing?’ I say. ‘You should be there.’
‘I still could be,’ he says, raising an eyebrow. ‘Fancy going to Paris?’
I smile.
‘I’ll get my things.’
38
The hum of the jet engines is like music to my ears, reminding me that I am flying to Paris in the sheer luxury of a private plane.
A private plane is one of those things that I’ve seen on TV and in movies plenty of times and yet I’m still totally taken aback by it all. The soft carpet, the plush leather of the seat, the scented air – the food and drink! I was already on cloud nine but, now that I’m taking my first flight on a private jet, I really do feel on top of the world. It feels so surreal, sitting here, with Dylan. We feel a million miles from the world below – even if, in reality, we’re probably less than ten. For a moment, it seems like we’re suspended in time, miles away from any of life’s complications, and being here alone in the cabin really does make it feel as though no one else exists. I love it.
‘I could get used to this,’ I admit, my gaze darting excitedly between the stunning view outside the window and the man of my dreams next to me.
‘I guess now you can,’ Dylan says with a laugh.
‘Oh, yeah,’ I reply, practically cackling with joy. ‘I can’t believe I am on a private jet to Paris. I know we’ve got the gig, obviously, but do you reckon we could stick around for a bit? Iwould love to explore, to be a tourist even just for a day. It’s been so long since I last had a holiday.’
‘We can stick around for as long as you like,’ he tells me, wrapping an arm around me, giving me a squeeze. ‘We could visit the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, we could take a stroll along the Seine – oh, and I know some amazing places to eat.’
‘Amazing,’ I reply. ‘I want to do it all, to see all the sights, to eat absolutely everything.’
‘Well, we can kick off with coffee and croissants when we land, and then take it from there,’ he suggests. ‘And don’t worry, I called ahead to tell the authorities that you were coming, and they agreed to let you into the country so long as I promised to make sure you behaved this time.’
I laugh.
‘You keeping an eye out for me – that’s rich,’ I say with a snort. ‘You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?’
‘Never ever ever,’ he tells me.
‘Okay, well, I promise to behave this time,’ I tell him.
‘Oh, I really hope you don’t,’ he replies, pushing me back onto the sofa, climbing on top of me as his lips meet mine.
I gasp, the gentle turbulence only adding to the thrill of it all.
Dylan pauses kissing me for a second and looks into my eyes.
‘I can’t believe we’re here,’ he tells me simply.
‘You mean on a private jet to Paris?’ I reply.
‘That’s not what I mean at all,’ he says with a smile. ‘But yeah, sure, that too.’
‘We’re on our way to Paris,’ I practically squeal, because I still can’t believe it.
‘Tops optional?’ Dylan asks.
