Page 46 of The Boyfriend Material Novellas

“Maybe you’ll have a secret love affair at the top of the tower,” I say, then hug my best friends goodbye, telling them I’ll meet them later, since we need to get ready to leave for an insanely early flight.

I stroll along Rue Saint-Dominique, stopping along the way to check out displays in jewelry stores and clothing boutiques, before I pop into a chocolatier.

A red-haired man behind the counter nods, smiles, and says, “Bonjour.”

“Bonjour,” I reply, then I ogle the displays of mouthwatering sweets, choose a few, and leave with chocolate in hand.

I cross the boulevard and find a bench by the river. “It’s just you and me, river,” I say to the water.

I grab a truffle and bite into it. As decadent caramel spreads on my tongue, a man I didn’t notice at the end of the bench turns and smiles.

“Good morning.”

3

REID

My team came in third, but I can’t complain because we didn’t even think we’d place.

Tenth was more like our goal.

Hell,notfinishing in last place would have been an achievement for the Road Flyers, my amateur bike team that competed in a four-day race ending in the City of Lights. It surprised the hell out of the four of us when we landed a spot on the podium.

Tour de France contenders we are not, but it was a right adrenaline rush. Now I’m enjoying a few hours in Paris before I catch a flight back to London, my teammates having taken off already. I’m booked on a different flight.

I pop a chocolate square in my mouth, savoring the orange zest flavor in the dark chocolate, when a brunette with a spray of freckles across her cheeks takes the spot at the end of the bench.

She gazes at the river with a happy sigh, then says, “It’s just you and me, river.”

My brain is a pinball machine, lighting up, buzzers whirring.

I barely speak a word of French, and she has an American accent. Perhaps it’s my lucky day.

“Good morning,” I say.

She jerks her gaze to me, then smiles. “Good morning to you too.” Her eyes drift to the bag from the shop. “A kindred spirit, I see.”

“Well, you know what they say.” I gesture to the chocolate like there’s some well-known saying about it.

She arches one brow, and it’s wildly adorable the way it rises, matching the corner of her lips quirking up. “I don’t know whattheysay. What dotheysay?”

I lower my voice, cup my mouth, and stage-whisper, “They say it’s never too early to eat chocolate.”

“Ah, yes. I have heard that,” she says with a nod, dipping her hand into the bag. “I believe it’s called chocolate o’clock.”

“That’s the time my watch is set to as well.”

“I have truffles. Want one?” She waggles the bag, and I adopt a new truism immediately.When a pretty woman offers you chocolate, you say yes.

“I would love one. As long as you promise they aren’t poisoned.”

Her expression is intense, overly serious. “As an avid and well-known poisoner, you have my solemn vow,” she says, then offers one.

“Well, since it’s a solemn vow . . .” I slide closer to her on the bench just as she slides closer to me. I snag a chocolate. “I’m going to trust it’s not laced with arsenic.”

She scoffs. “Please. I’m all about cyanide. It’s stronger and faster.”

I stop, chocolate midair. “How do you know that?”

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