What Happens in Paris

by Jen McConnel

  “I barely know you!”

  He slowed his pace and let go of my hand. For a minute, I thought I’d pushed him away or something, but then he draped his arm over my shoulder and pulled me close to his body. He was quite tall, I realized; I mean, I am short, like he said the other day, only five foot three, but Hunter’s arm rested easily across my shoulders without making me stoop. I looked up at him.

  “What do you want to know? Twenty-five, I’m an Aires, I grew up in Ohio but I went to school in Kentucky, and now I travel around because I’m not ready to get a job in an office just yet.”

  I laughed. “That about covers it, I guess. Why did you start traveling?”

  “Why don’t you tell me about yourself first?”

  “Okay.” I thought for a minute. Trying to match his light tone, I said, “I’m twenty, and I’m a Taurus. I’ve got a sixteen-year-old sister, and I grew up in Pennsylvania.”

  He looked down at me. “And you’re in school, right?”

  “Yes,” I said after a moment of hesitation. “Art school.”

  “Oh, right, you’re the sensitive, artistic type. Now I understand why I was pissing you off so much.”

  I giggled. “What did you study?”

  “Poli-sci.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “What are you going to do with that?”

  “What are you going to do with an art degree?”

  His light tone took the sting out of his words, but I paused, considering. No one had actually asked me that question; Mom assumed I’d never use it, and it seemed like the other people I met never thought to ask. I slowed my steps, pulling out from under Hunter’s arm. “You know, I don’t know.”

  “A degree is just a degree, princess. It doesn’t matter what you study; chances are, you’ll never use it again, anyway.”

  “But I want to use it.” I hadn’t articulated that before, but I realized it was true; I wasn’t studying art as an escape. I wanted art to be as much a part of my adult life as it had been of my childhood, but suddenly that seemed immature, especially now that I was looking at hefty student loans; I was pretty sure debt wouldn’t make it easier to do what I wanted.

  Hunter eyed me for a minute. “So figure out a way to use it,” he finally said.

  “Um, I guess I could teach.”

  “Wrong answer. No one should teach because they can’t think of anything else to do.”

  “Didn’t you say you’d taught in Bali?”

  “Yes. I taught because I wanted to, but I stopped because I hated it, and kids don’t deserve a teacher who hates his job.”

  I thought about it. “Most of my art professors seem to love their work.”

  He shrugged. “So maybe you teach someday. But that’s not what you really want, is it?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

  Hunter gestured down the riverbank to a woman who had an easel set up. She was painting the water in front of her, using broad brushstrokes to try to capture the fluidity of the waves. “Do you want to do something like that?”

  “What, paint?”

  “No, be a street artist. I bet she sells her work when she’s done.”

  “She might just be here to paint, you know.”

  Hunter looked skeptical. “Maybe. But most people try to make some money if they’re talented.”

  “I like painting,” I said softly, watching the woman. “But I think I prefer drawing.”

  “So, the question is, what can you do with drawing after you leave college?”

  I shrugged, feeling helpless. “I don’t know. Why are you pressuring me?”

  He held up his hands and smiled. “Just trying to do what you said. Trying to get to know you.”

  “Well,” I felt my face heating up, “can we drop it? I’m not sure, okay?”

  He nodded, his eyes suddenly serious. “I’ll drop it, if you won’t pester me about why I started traveling in the first place.”

  I looked at him, surprised at his abrupt change of topic. What was it about his past that bothered him? “Touché.”

  “Still.” He met my eyes. “We’re allowed to have things we don’t want to talk about.”

  Chapter Twelve

  We wandered all over Paris. Hunter scoffed at the more touristy spots, and he rolled his eyes when I insisted on crossing the river to check out Montmartre, the famous bohemian center. But his teasing wasn’t too sharp, and he seemed at ease, strolling around the slanted city streets beside me. There were artists everywhere, and as we passed, I found myself wondering what it would be like to live in a city like Paris, making art and drinking coffee, feeling free. Would I ever be able to pull off something like that?

  Even after spending an entire day together, I didn’t feel like I’d learned any more about Hunter than he’d already told me. I had a blast with him, but it was strange to be so attracted to someone I barely knew. We parted ways outside of Notre Dame in the twilight, and Hunter promised to meet me there the next morning. I gave him a quick good-bye hug.

  “Thanks for a fun day.” I lingered with my arms around him, wondering if he’d kiss me, but he just gave me a gentle squeeze and stepped back.

  “You, too. I’m looking forward to another adventure with you tomorrow.”

  I grinned. “What did you have in mind?”

  “You’ll see, princess.” He winked. “I’ve got plans.”

  His words sent shivers down my spine. “I can’t wait.”

  Hunter gave me a small salute. “Sleep tight, Camie.”

  The sound of my name surprised me; he’d been calling me princess all day. I smiled at him sappily and blew him a kiss as I headed back across the white stone bridge to the Latin Quarter. It would be easy to blame my quick attraction to the magic of Paris, but I felt an odd connection to Hunter that made me kind of want more than a vacation fling. Still thinking about him, I floated back toward the hostel, but I stopped at a pharmacy on the corner and bought a calling card. I turned around to pay, but I bumped into a cardboard display. Blushing, I looked at the stack of condoms I’d knocked to the floor, and I hurriedly scooped them up and put them back, hoping no one was watching me. For a moment, I considered one of the small foil packages. What was I thinking? I shook my head as I left the store; I didn’t know Hunter, and besides, he hadn’t even kissed me yet. Why in the world was I thinking about sleeping with him?

  True, he was hot, in a gangly, beanpole kind of way. And he had a great smile. And there was something beneath his snarky attitude that seemed really vulnerable and genuine. Okay, and he was really, really hot.

  Lost in a daydream about Hunter, I checked into the hostel and climbed the stairs. I skipped my floor without meaning to, but when I realized I was up on the fourth floor, I decided to wait for one of the computers to open up. I suddenly wanted to e-mail Shauna and tell her all about Hunter.

  There were a couple of other girls waiting for the computers in the small sitting area, and they smiled at me when I sat down. One, the brunette I’d met while using the computer last night, stuck out her hand. “I’m Joelle.”

  “Camie.” I shook her hand and smiled, taking in the diamond stud in her nose. I liked her right away.

  Joelle’s friend, a pretty redhead, chimed in. “I’m Sarah. Where are you from?”

  The girls both sounded American. “Pennsylvania. What about you?”

  “We’re from the Carolinas.” Joelle drawled a little bit when she said the name of her state, and I giggled. “I’m North, and Sarah’s South.”

  “How long have you been in Paris?”

  “We got here last week. Getting ready to move on, right, Sarah?”

  Sarah nodded. “We’re doing Italy next. Well, hopefully. I’m headed to the beach first, ’cause Joelle has to go meet her family in Germany.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Sounds fun.”

  She shrugged. “My big brother’s getting married. I can’t exactly miss that, even though I’d rather keep traveling with my girl here.”

 
Sarah sighed. “I can’t wait for some real summer weather. I like hot summers.”

  “I guess that’s what you’re used to back home, huh?”

  The girls nodded. “But Italy should be better, weather-wise. Once I get through with Germany, that is.” She made a face. “Have you ever been?”

  Was she talking about Germany or Italy? I shrugged. “Nope. This is my first time in Europe, period.”

  Sarah smiled. “Us, too!” She glanced at Joelle, and the girls had a silent conversation with their eyes. After a moment, Joelle grinned and nodded, and Sarah turned back to me. “Want to come with us? I mean, with me to the beach, and then we’ll meet Joelle in Italy in a few weeks? It’s more fun to have someone to travel with.”

  I hesitated. These girls seemed really cool, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to leave Paris yet. Or Hunter. “When are you going?”

  “The next few days.” Joelle gestured to the computer. “Whenever we can book train tickets. My folks are supposed to land in Berlin on Friday, and I need to be there around the same time, or my mom will freak.”

  I shook my head. “I just got here yesterday. But thanks!”

  Sarah smiled. “Let us know if you change your mind. We’re in room four.”

  I nodded. One of the two computers opened up, and the girls waved at me as they headed for the keyboard. A few minutes later, I got on the other computer and started composing a long e-mail to Shauna. I couldn’t wait to hear what she’d have to say about Hunter. Part of my brain was hoping she’d tell me to go for it, and knowing Shauna, she probably would. She’d never been one to let the opportunity to hook up with a hot guy pass her by, and I needed a little bit of her confidence before I saw Hunter the next day. As silly as it seemed to be considering a random hookup with an almost stranger, something about the idea made my heart beat a little bit faster.

  Chapter Thirteen

  For a minute, I thought Hunter had bailed on me. I didn’t see him in the crowd that was already surrounding the doors to the cathedral when I walked up there the next morning, and my heart fell. Had he just been playing with me? I scanned the people hopefully, but there was no sign of his lanky frame.

  Checking the time again, I sighed. So much for my daydreams about a little vacation romance. I sat down on the low wall surrounding the courtyard in front of the church, trying to overcome my disappointment. Pulling out my sketchbook and a drawing pencil, I decided that I should at least make a few sketches of the cathedral while I was there, but I got so absorbed in my work that after a few minutes, I really had stopped thinking about Hunter.

  Someone sat down beside me, but I didn’t look up. I finished my rendering of the rose window, and then flipped to another page, glancing back at the cathedral to decide what to draw next.

  “You’re really good.” Hunter’s voice was close to my ear, and I jumped, startled, my pencil grinding across the blank page with a furious black line. Hunter didn’t seem to notice my surprise as he reached for my sketchbook.

  “When did you get here?” I closed the book quickly and pulled it out of his reach. I didn’t like to share my drawings with anyone until I’d had a chance to work on them, and I wondered how many of the rough sketches Hunter had already glimpsed. I looked at my watch; I’d been drawing for half an hour.

  Hunter shrugged. “A few minutes ago. You were really absorbed.”

  I tucked my book back in my bag, feeling self-conscious. “I was waiting for you. I sort of thought you weren’t coming.”

  We started walking toward the street. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world! Did you eat yet today?”

  My heart lifted. “Yeah. I grabbed something at the bakery near the hostel.”

  “Good. I was worried you’d need rescuing again.”

  I pushed him playfully. “You need to get over this hero complex, Hunter.”

  He pouted. “Don’t you want a knight in shining armor to come riding up and sweep you away?”

  I laughed. “Not really my style.”

  “Good. I knew I liked you.” Hunter reached for my hand easily, and I let him take it. I sighed happily, and Hunter smiled down at me. “So what is your style, princess?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What’s your romantic fantasy? What are you looking for in a guy?”

  I smirked. “Who says I’m looking for a guy?”

  He didn’t flinch. “Or a girl. What are you looking for in a girl?”

  I chuckled, dropping my gaze to the river beside us. “I’m not looking. But if I were, I guess I’d want a guy who could make me laugh.”

  “Check. Not looking, but likes guys and comedy.”

  I suppressed a giggle. “And somebody who’s smart.”

  He nodded. “I’ve got that covered.”

  “And someone humble.”

  Hunter snapped his fingers. “Oh, well, can’t win them all.”

  I laughed and squeezed his hand. “What about you?” I asked shyly after a moment. “What are you looking for?”

  “Like you, I’m not looking.” His tone was hard to read, and I looked up at him, confused. He met my eyes without blinking, and his gaze pinned me to the spot. “But I’m not stupid enough to pass up a good thing when it bumps into me. Or faints in my arms.”

  I laughed, but it sounded forced. I was having a hard time breathing; Hunter’s face hovered inches away from mine, and his lips parted slightly as he stared at me. The busy street behind him faded away, and I stopped being aware of anything else. I shut my eyes reflexively, and after a moment, Hunter brushed his lips against mine, light as a feather. I kissed him back, trying to match his gentle pace, but I had to fight not to press my face against him. The kiss lasted for a split second, but when I opened my eyes, his face was still dangerously close to mine.

  Emboldened, I leaned up and kissed him again, a little more forcefully. After a minute, his lips parted, and he flicked his tongue against my mouth, teasing me. I responded by wrapping my arms around his neck, and I was vaguely aware of his fingertips coming to rest on the top of my hips.

  It was hot. So hot, in fact, that for a minute, I forgot we were standing on a crowded street in Paris until I heard someone let out a whistle. I pulled away from Hunter, embarrassed, and looked around. We hadn’t gathered a crowd, exactly, but a guy walking by caught my eye and winked.

  Feeling self-conscious, I glanced up at Hunter. He was studying me with a serious expression, and I felt my stomach clench. What was he thinking?

  “You know,” he finally said, “it’s not a crime to kiss in Paris. In fact,” his lips curved up into a sexy smile, “it’s sort of a local pastime. We wouldn’t want to stick out.”

  I swallowed. “So what are you thinking?”

  Hunter leaned toward me. “Maybe we should practice some more. You know, so we can really blend in.”

  “We wouldn’t want to look like tourists,” I agreed with a smile. “You know what they say: When in Rome—”

  He kissed me again, and I just about forgot how to speak.

  Chapter Fourteen

  There’s nothing better than kissing in Paris. Hunter and I went all over the city, and I know we saw a lot of amazing things, but every time he kissed me, my mind went blank and I forgot what we’d seen. I think we went inside a couple of churches, and I vaguely remember the windmill on top of the Moulin Rouge, but Paris just became a backdrop to the hottest make-out session ever.

  Nearing sunset, we ended up sitting under the Eiffel Tower, our arms wrapped around each other. Hunter nuzzled against my neck. “I can’t think of another way I’d want to spend a day in Paris.”

  I kissed the top of his head, and he tipped his face up toward me. His voice was soft when he whispered, “I’d like to make it a perfect night, too.”

  For a minute, everything froze. I didn’t see the sunset behind the famous tower, or the boats on the water, or the beautiful reflecting pool. Hunter got to his feet and looked down at me, and I stared back, considering. Was I ready for that?
I hadn’t slept with Jim, even though we’d been together for almost six months, but I’d never felt this turned on after kissing Jim. This could be it, Cam.

  Hunter watched my expression curiously. “Aren’t you ready for dinner?”

  “Oh! Dinner!” My cheeks flushed. “Yeah, dinner would be perfect.”

  He held out his hand and helped me to my feet. “I know a great restaurant by the river, if you’re game for it.”

  I nodded, trying to recover from what I’d thought he meant. Stupid, stupid. Of course he doesn’t want to sleep with you! “Sounds great!”

  Hunter kissed me one more time under the Eiffel Tower and tugged on my hand. “Come on. We want to get there early to get a table.”

  Embarrassed by how quickly my mind had jumped to sex, I followed him, subdued. When he led me down to the dock beneath the tower, I looked around, confused. “There’s a restaurant down here?”

  “I told you, it’s on the river!” With a flourish, Hunter pointed to a red awning leading to a ferry that bobbed alongside the pier. The sign proclaimed floating restaurant.

  I laughed. “This is so cool!” Another couple passed us, and I noticed the long dress the older woman was wearing. “Isn’t it going to be a bit fancy for us?” I was wearing another one of the dresses Shauna had made me pack, but it was just a yellow cotton sundress, and I didn’t have any jewelry or makeup on.

  Hunter shrugged. “I think you look incredibly sexy.”

  My heart thumped loudly, and I grinned up at him. “That’s good enough for me, I guess!”

  We boarded the boat, and a waiter in a tuxedo led us to a table beside a window. The boat looked like a small ferry, but instead of rows of seats, it was filled with dining tables covered with white tablecloths. Each table had a flower in a vase decorating it, and I fiddled with the pink rose after we sat down. The waiter had disappeared, but he reappeared carrying two thick red menus. Without a word, he pulled a napkin off the table in front of me, shook it out, and spread it on my lap. I tried to sit very still; I’d never had a waiter give me the royal treatment before, and it made me feel even more out of place in my yellow sundress.