Page 49 of The Boyfriend Material Novellas

“See? It was serendipity that we met,” he says playfully as we weave past a Frenchwoman pushing a trolley full of groceries, a baguette poking out the top of one bag.

“But I’ll miss Paris,” I say, glancing at the bread, then at this man by my side who doesn’t feel like a stranger at all. Nor does he feel like the handsome guy I just happened to bump into. He feels like a guy whose path I was meant to cross.

We slow our pace at a light. “I’ll miss Paris too,” he says as he holds my gaze longer than I expect.

I should look away. I should break the moment. But I don’t. Because my stomach flips. And tingles spread down my arms. Then I whisper, “I’m glad I’m afraid of heights.”

The light changes, and we cross.

He glances at me out of the corner of his eye, then smiles. His smile is fantastic. So warm and inviting. “I’m glad you’re afraid of heights too.”

5

REID

I wouldn’t say we gorge ourselves on chocolate, but we come damn close.

Marley is a fiend when it comes to sweets, with a sweet tooth that matches mine. I tell her as much as we regard the carnage of our chocolate fiesta on the table—those little wrapper things that hold the chocolates are completely empty. “We have officially made this morning chocolate o’clock every damn second.”

“We have,” she says, straightening her shoulders like she’s issuing a declaration. “And I regret nothing.”

“I regret nothing either.”

She sets her chin in her hand and meets my eyes. “So, Reid. What do you do in London when you aren’t devouring chocolate?”

I lean back in the chair, diving into the quick details. “I’m a designer. I studied graphic design at university. I’m working my way up now, but someday I’d like to have my own company.”

She smiles. “I love that. Love that you know what you want to do. What is that like—to know?”

I ponder her question for a few seconds, maybe more. “It’s like . . . normal. If that makes sense? I think I’ve always known. I’ve loved drawing and designing, and it was always my path. I like this path. I’m glad I’m on it.”

“What can you draw?” There’s a curious glint in her eyes.

“I happen to be a fantastic doodler. But I’m also tops at drawing caricatures of American girls in chocolate shops.”

A laugh seems to burst from her. “Are you serious?”

“As serious as a heart attack.” I head to the counter, ask the shopkeeper for a pen and napkin, and return to her, doing a quick rudimentary sketch of her face. It’s great fun, because it gives me free rein to stare at her the whole time, to study the shape of her cheekbones, her big brown eyes, the freckles dotting the bridge of her nose.

She sports a grin the entire time, like she’s delighting in this moment. I certainly am—it’s an unexpected morning in this city with her, and I don’t want it to end.

When I’m finished, I show her the napkin.

She chuckles. “That’s adorable.”

I preen in an over-the-top fashion. “I am known in many parts of the world as an adorable doodler.” Then a spate of nerves crawls up my spine. Do I ask her if she wants to keep this? Is that too much for whatever this brief encounter is? This random date that’s careening toward its inevitable end in hours?

She speaks first. “I’d like to keep it. May I?”

My chest warms. “It’s all yours, Marley.”

Neither one of us says anything for a moment. We simply look at each other. Sparks race over my skin, across my chest. This thing, this chemistry, it can’t go anywhere. But right now, it feels like we’re somewhere special.

And I don’t want today to end until it must. I only have a few hours, but I want to spend them with her. “Do you believe in happiness?” I ask.

She tilts her head. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Do you believe it’s possible though? Is it worth chasing?”

---