Chapter 44 Chapter 43:
Arya:
“You’re going to end up sleeping with each other.” Emily says as I hand her the cup of coffee. I take a seat beside Nicole who’s busy scrolling through her phone with her signature scowl.
“Oh give her a break, it doesn’t always work like that.” Nicole looks up from her phone, turning to face Emma. “Right? It doesn’t always work like that.”
“What planet are you on? Of course, it always works like that.” Emma stifles an eye roll. “It’s a well known fact that when two couples go away on a vacation all by themselves, they are going to end up having mind-blowing sex.”
“Can we please not say that word here?” Nicole says hardly and we all laugh.
“I have read dozens of romance novels; we have watched romance movies, that’s how it works.” Emily turns to face me, grinning, “It’s easy enough, it is going to be like you are both discovering yourself, and trust me, whatever boundaries you’ve both set for yourself is going to break. Trust me; you won’t be able to take your hands off each other.”
I sigh, almost rolling my eyes. Devon are I are leaving for Paris today, Liam is going to stay here with Vera while we’re gone, I am sure going to miss my baby girl, but maybe she does need a break from Devon and I once in a while, Devon’s upstairs, getting her ready and Liam will be arriving any time soon.
“Think about it, Arya. Devon’s a man every lady dreams of, handsome, sexy and without a doubt, good in bed. So, make sure you wear those lingerie I got you. Make the first move, wear something that will really catch his attention, trust me.” Emma explains, smiling.
“He’s undeniably sexy,” Nicole says, and we all gasp, because she never compliments any man. We all turn back to see Devon standing there, holding Vera in his arms, his gaze meets mine, his expression soft, but the faint blush creeping up his neck and his ears, bright red tells a different story, meaning he literally heard everything.
Fuck it.
“He sure does get embarrassed quickly.” Nicole says quietly, loud enough for us all to hear. The girls laugh more and Devon’s ears redden the more. This side of him fascinates me, the side that makes him get flustered by the smallest of things, it makes a tiny smile tug at my lips.
The door opens and Liam jogs inside, his hair is fanned across his face, “I am here.” He calls out, stepping into view.
“Damn, he’s hot.” Emma swoons beside me and I roll my eyes, standing up before quickly introducing my friends to Liam, Emily freaks out the most, because Liam’s one of her favourite thriller crime authors.
I show him where Vera’s diapers are kept, the meals she likes and what she dislikes, he nods his head to everything.
“It looks like you didn’t sleep well.” Devon says to his brother, a glint in his eyes.
“Don’t even ask.” He frowns, before smiling at me. “Enjoy your vacation in Paris, the city of love.” He makes an exaggerated tone on ‘the city of love’ but Devon rolls his eyes as we tug the suitcase outside.
I already got my leave approved by Clara.
I am unusually giddy since Devon informed me that we are taking his private jet to Paris, we are given two glasses of pinot noir. As we settle into the leather chair, the jet’s engine hums softly as we begin to ascend the sky. I stare out the window, fascinated by the magnificent view.
“It’s beautiful,” I mumble out loud, turning to look at Devon who’s watching me. “What? Do I have something on my face?”
“No, it’s not that.” He says quickly. “I was just admiring.”
“Oh.” My cheeks redden. “So what exactly are we doing in Paris?”
“I figured we could see the Eiffel Tower, anything you want to do.” He tells me.
“Alright.” I smile, as I eagerly wait to arrive in Paris.
I pluck out a book from my backpack, it’s a cheesy romance novel that Emily sneaked in while I wasn’t looking, though she did promise I was going to love it even though I am not a fan of romance.
“Emily’s making us read it.” I explain.
“Us?” He asks in confusion.
I bring out the extra copy and hand it over to him. “Trust me, I don’t want to do this, but what do we have to lose?” He stares at the cover strangely, before flicking open a page. We both lean against our seat; soon we are both engrossed in the novel.
“Oh fuck.” I murmur, glancing at Devon. “The tension between them is just so electric. Those secret glances they give each other, gosh. Did you read what he did at the party?”
Devon raises a brow, “I guess he was being protective? Arya, that doesn’t make sense, they were at a rooftop party and someone was flirting with her, that doesn’t give him the right to flag the man down the roof, threatening him.” He slightly frowns.
“I’d say he has every right to act on it.” I flick my eyes to him.
“Don’t you think it’s a bit of an overreaction?”
“People act irrationally when they feel something strongly. That’s the thing about emotions, you can’t always control them, they come out, sometimes in unpredictable ways.” I shrug and we both get back to reading, silence filling the cabin.
“What do you think?” Devon pauses to look at me, “She hurts him, she runs away without thinking of fixing it.”
“Maybe she’s scared of revealing that part of herself? Maybe she’s afraid of letting her weakness show.” I swallow.
Devon watches me for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, before his gaze shifts back to the book in his lap. “Maybe,” he says, his voice quieter now. “But if you want something, I guess you have to fight for it. Running away doesn’t fix things, it never does.”
By the time we are done with the book, we are both exhausted after discussing theories about the book, even though we didn’t quite agree on the perspectives about the hero and the heroine.
I am not sure how long we have been reading, but my brain is fired.
We both decide to get some rest and when we wake up, the jet has already landed. My heart skips a beat as we step off the jet, the cool evening air enveloping me. Devon stands beside me, a car is already waiting to pick us up.
We drive through the city of Paris; I stare at the twinkling lights, amazed. Soon, the car pulls up to the curb of the villa. We extend our suitcases out as Devon helps wheels them.
“Wow.” I mutter as we make our way to the villa. It stands, nestled majestically, it’s like the kind of place that you see in movies, the kind that makes everything seem like a dream. At the centre of the outdoor space is a wide pool with clear water, beside the pool, there are comfortable lounge chairs and a shaded cabana.
We step into the grand foyer, the marble floor gleaming beneath the chandelier’s lights.
“Do you like it?” Devon asks me, wheeling the suitcases forward. The central living room is wide, accompanied with a hall that leads to the bathroom, kitchen and maybe the library. The central staircase leads to the bedroom.
“This is unbelievable.” I can’t bring myself to imagine the countless properties that Devon owns all over the world.
“Let’s get settled in and maybe we can take a walk?” Devon suggests, it’s nice to see him this relaxed and calm. I just want this vacation so he can push away all the stress.
The bedrooms are even more gorgeous, Devon’s room is just right beside mine, I settle my suitcase in the wardrobe, and since we are going for a walk, I decide to find a suitable outfit.
Settling for a black turtleneck sweater over a beige coat tucked into dark trousers, with simple elegant boots. Walking downstairs, Devon’s already by the door, wearing a white shirt over a loose fit trouser. His hair is slightly tousled, giving him a perfect appearance.
“Ready to go?” He asks, with a gentle smile on his face. Nodding my head, we begin walking. We take a taxi to the Eiffel Tower.
We finally reach the base of the tower and I can’t believe that we are standing here, in Paris, staring at the tower.
We stand there, simply taking in the view when a young woman with a camera looped over her neck approaches us. She speaks in French with a pleasant accent, she gestures at my phone, then at the Eiffel Tower.
I have no idea what she is saying, but Devon leans in and says. “She wants to take a picture of us together.”
“Oh.” I smile, handing her my phone. We pose in front of the Eiffel Tower, she holds out the phone, gesturing at us to move closer. Devon places his hand around my waist, and I lean closer into his chest, my cheeks flushed.
“Smile!” The woman joyfully smiles, we do exactly as told and she clicks a few shots. She then points to our hands and mimics a heart shape with her fingers, speaking in French.
“Make a heart shape.” He translates, his voice low. For a brief moment, I feel my cheeks warm. It’s so...cheesy and cliché, but we are in Paris, standing behind the Eiffel Tower and it wouldn’t hurt.
Chuckling, Devon moves closer and before I know it, we are making a heart shape with our fingers. The woman grins, snapping before returning my phone. “You both make an amazing couple.” She smiles.
“Thank you,” my cheeks redden the more. Devon leads us to a restaurant where we have dinner on the rooftop, overlooking the sparkling Eiffel Tower in the distance, the night sky and lights blend with the touring tower.
We have a filet mignon au Poivre, with crème brulee coupled with chocolate soufflé paired with a rich Bordeaux red champagne. Elegant chandeliers hang on the high ceilings, with wait staff dressed in black and white, gliding across the room, offering free dessert.
“I really need to improve my French skills,” I say, taking a sip of the expensive champagne. I close my eyes a bit, as I savour it. “How’d you know how to speak French?”
“My father made Liam and I take lessons when we were six. We had this strict French teacher; Liam always made him snap, every single time.” There’s a tiny smile playing on his lips.
I wonder how many languages this man can speak. Ten? Fifteen? It’s surprising what this man can do. I look around the restaurant, sighing. This clearly is the dream, Paris, Eiffel Tower, drinking expensive as hell wine.
“Wait...Is this some kind of date?” I ask, dropping the wine.
He raises his brows, tilting his head ever so slightly. “Would it bother you if it were?”
I pause a bit, taken aback. We are on a date? I am on a date with Devon?
“I mean, it’s a bit unexpected...” I say. “But I love it.”
“I just wanted to do something special, that’s all.” He shyly says, his ears reddening. I place my hands on the table, watching him. Gosh, he’s cute when he blushes.
“Arya. Is this you?” I hear a scrawny voice and we both look up. Hamilton, I don’t exactly remember his name but I know his surname, that kid who always threw paper balls at me in English class back in highschool, even when I told him to stop. Him and his gang of friends didn’t exactly like me.
He still has that same rough edges, horrible smirk, but this time there’s a blonde woman hanging onto his shoulders. What’s he doing here, in Paris, out of all places?
“It feels like forever, I see that you are moving up in the world.” I can note the disdain in his voice. “Oh fuck, it’s Devon Brookes.”
“Who’s he?” Devon ignores him all together and faces me.
“No one important,” I mumble, trying to stand. “Let’s just go.”
“You have five seconds to turn around and walk away,” Devon says, his voice ice-cold and deadly calm.
Hamilton freezes, his smile faltering as his eyes flicks nervously to Devon. “Calm down, man. I just-”
“One,” Devon begins, his gaze sharp.
He doesn't wait, he grabs the blonde woman’s arms and bolts, muttering something under his breath.
I am equally stunned, as Devon looks at me, he doesn’t say a word, he just places a protective hand on the small of my back and leads me outside.
“You really didn’t have to do that.” I say when we reach outside. “You don’t have to overreact because someone was mean to me, he’s just an idiot from high school.” People like Hamilton are jerks, and I could have handled him properly on my own.
“I was wrong,” he says, placing his hands into his pocket as we wait for a taxi.
“Wrong?” I ask, stunned. Devon Brookes is never wrong, what is he wrong about?
“The novel we read on the plane. I argued it was illogical for the hero to always act overprotective, now I understand why.”
“Why?” I swallow heavily. My heart skips a beat
He takes a step closer, his hand brushing mine. His voice dips slowly, “because no one hurts my woman and gets away with it.”
The words hang in the air between us, my heart racing in response, I blink, unsure if I’d heard him right.
“Your...woman?” I repeat, my voice a whisper.
He doesn’t flinch, his gaze holding me with an intensity that has my legs going weak. “Yes, Arya. My woman and I won’t stand by and watch any one hurt you- past or present.”
Is this why those female characters in those romance novels fall so hard? Because of the way the male characters talk to them? Because damn, it’s working.
I swallow harder this time, my chest tightening. “Devon....”
“I mean it, Arya,” he says, his voice softening, though the fire in his eyes remains. “If anyone thinks they can hurt you physically or emotionally, I won’t let them. I know you can protect yourself, but let me. No one will mess with you.”
I am speechless, my mouth agape. “Wow.” Is the only thing I can mutter.
“Still think I overreacted?” He tilts his head, his sharp green eyes holding me in place.
“No, I think...I get it now,” I shake my head.
“Good,” his voice is lower, sexier. “Let’s get home.” He outstretches his arm, and I place mine inside.
Damn, it’s settled. I am going to end up sleeping with this man before we return home.