He grins. 揟hat抯 my girl.?
I know he doesn抰 mean it literally梐t least I don抰 think he does梑ut the words still send a silly thrill through me. Butterflies flock in my stomach like the most popular guy in school just handed me his letterman jacket to wear.
As we climb, more and more of Paris is spread below us. I spot Parc de Belleville and Champ de Mars. We reach the first observation deck and start up the second set of stairs.
揇o you work out??I ask, halfway up the third flight.
Crew laughs. 揧our pick-up lines need work.?
I roll my eyes because I抦 too short of breath to scoff. 揑抦 serious.?
揧eah, I do. You have a private gym, you know.?
揑 know. I just don抰 use it.?
揧eah, I realized that when I cleared an inch of dust off the treadmill.?
I smile. 揃ullshit. Martha would never let that happen.?
揊ine. It was more like a quarter inch.?
揥hen do you work out??
He slants a glance my way. 揂fter you leave. I work out, shower, eat breakfast, and then head into the office.?
揥hy after I leave??
His eyes are still on me. Mine stay straight ahead.
揧ou try to avoid me. I抦 not going to make it more difficult for you.?
揑 left for work at seven before we got married.?
I dance around what he抯 really saying, and he doesn抰 press the point.
We reach the next landing. Crew pauses. I halt too, watching as he grabs the railing with one hand and grabs his ankle with his other. He balances on one leg and bends the other back.
揥hat抯 wrong??
揑 have an old knee injury. Just need to stretch for a minute.?
揂 knee injury from what??
揑 played football in high school.?
I snort. 揙f course you did. The patron sport of jerky jocks everywhere.?
揟hat抯 awfully judgmental.?
揑 am awfully judgmental.?
揧eah.?He smirks. 揑抳e noticed.?
I don抰 like the familiar way he抯 looking at me. And I like it too much. 揝o what happened??
揌uh??
揧our knee. What happened to it??
揙h. Chris Jenkins hit me with an illegal tackle junior year. I twisted a tendon, and it still flares up sometimes.?He shakes his head with a smile. 揂sshole.?
揑s there film footage of you getting knocked on your ass??
揘o.?
揑 think you抮e lying.?
揑 think you抣l never know.?
揧ou should have played a non-contact sport in high school. Like卌rew, maybe??
He laughs. And it抯 not a laugh I抳e heard from him before. It抯 a warm, rough, masculine sound that feels like standing in front of a fire drinking hot chocolate. A comforting burn. 揚retty proud of yourself for coming up with that, Red??
I smile. 揂 little.?
We climb the final few flights in silence. If Crew抯 knee is still bothering him, he doesn抰 say anything about it. He keeps up with me easily as we reach the top observation deck and glimpse Paris spread out in front of us.
揥ow.?I抦 used to closing off my emotions and reactions. I抦 always ready with a right answer or a snappy retort, never caught off guard or confused. Never appreciating where I am or what I抦 doing. It抯 exhausting, and a guard I usually only let down when I抦 alone.
I never expected to be myself around Crew Kensington. I抳e seen plenty of people navigate arranged marriages with minimal interaction. I expected us to be no different. It抯 disconcerting, realizing we might be. That I like him. Might have chosen to marry him even if his net worth was half of what it is梠r nonexistent.
A couple of girls who look like they抮e in college ask Crew to take a picture of them. I lean against the railing and eyeball their interaction. Everywhere we go, Crew seems to command female attention. The women at Proof, Hannah Garner, Olivia Spencer, the blonde tennis player.
It抯 not that I don抰 see Crew抯 appeal桰 do. It抯 that I抦 torn. Staking a claim梐dmitting my attraction梒omes with risks. Once I lay down my metaphorical cards, that抯 it. I抣l have skin in the game. And it will get rubbed raw when Crew cheats.
For all the attention he gets, I抳e never seen him flirt with a woman. At most, he seems to allow women to flirt with him.
Even now, with two pretty girls in their early twenties drooling over him, he seems uninterested. He抯 smiling, but it doesn抰 reach his eyes. He doesn抰 look at them the way he was just looking at me. I wish I could blame the happy feeling on the fact I抦 standing at the top of the Eiffel Tower on a perfect summer day.
I think it has more to do with him.
Rather than continue spying, I look out at the city. There抯 a light breeze that counteracts some of the summer heat, blowing my hair out of my face.
揝carlett!?
I glance over to see Crew beckoning me over. I walk over to where he is standing with the two women. Neither of them appear thrilled by my appearance.