“I’ll come with you.” Zach half rises, but Ella pulls him back down, giggling again. “I’m sure he can make the trip alone,” she says.
I weave in and out of the people crowding the room—a few more have poured in since we got here—and almost run into a group coming through the door. Many more and they won’t be able to squeeze in.
Just as I’m about to leave, the door opens and Jon enters. “The hotel’s gonna say something to Erin,” he says as he sees me. “It’s way too loud in here.”
“Probably. But what did you expect?”
Jon sighs and makes a beeline for Angel, and I tail him. Zach’s by the window, talking to a girl with flowing black curls. Her legs are crossed at the ankles, and her head’s tipped so far to one side her neck must be aching. She seems captivated by him. And so she should be. It’d be wonderful if she’d go get captivated by someone else, though. Literally, anyone else.
Ella waves to get my attention. She’s with the blond guy she mentioned earlier, Levi. I hold a hand up to tell her to hang on, and someone places a drink into it as they pass me.
Sure, why not? I knock it back, then tune into Jon and Angel’s conversation.
“We don’t want to get a rep, Angel.”
“Oh, no, not a rep for being too fun; girls hate that,” Angel says, bouncing on the spot. He’s obviously taken something. His energy is a touch too frenetic.
“Just a little quieter? Please?”
“You,” Angel says, “are not our manager. How about you just have some fun and leave the sorries to me, yeah?” He grabs Jon’s hands and moves them back and forth, trying to get Jon to dance. Jon rolls his eyes again, but he’s smiling reluctantly.
Just as I finish my drink, someone taps me on the shoulder. It’s the blond guy. Levi. “Refill?” he asks me.
I accept it, a smile spreading across my face.
Levi, it turns out, is an Irish model, which explains his ethereally beautiful face. He’s also a lot better at handling his alcohol than I am, which I find out when I try to keep pace with him and quickly lose the ability to stand steady. He steers me to a free spot on the bed, and we sit while he tells me about a time he almost got arrested with Ella and Kellin. As we talk, we lean against each other more and more, and he starts brushing the side of my thigh with his thumb. Everything feels warm, and slow, and soft. Like those caramels.
The party’s steadily growing louder as people knock back more shots and, I assume, whatever stash Angel took from is passed around. One group is loudly filming a video for Instagram while they play a drinking game that apparently involves banging on an end table and screaming every time someone speaks. Not far from them, a couple of guys and a girl have lost their shirts and are running around trying to procure an extra shirt for the girl. Someone else is playing trap music through their phone speaker, and it’s clashing with the music on Angel’s speakers so badly I can barely hear myself think.
I check on Zach a couple of times, and he hasn’t left the girl with the curls. I guess he’s chosen her to break his heart tonight.
And I guess I’ve chosen Levi.
“So, how long are you in Paris for?” Levi asks.
“Today and tomorrow. We leave the next morning.”
“Ah.” He pouts. “And you’re staying here?”
“Yeah, my room’s just down the hall.”
“Oh, you all have your own rooms. Cool.” He pretends to say it casually, but his hand presses more firmly against my leg, and something flutters in my stomach. My throat feels thick, leaving me a little breathless.
Someone grabs my arm, and I glance up to find a very concerned-looking Zach. “Can I get your help for a minute?” he asks.
I excuse myself from Levi, and Zach brings me to his heartbreak girl. Except she’s sitting slumped against the wall, her head now so far to one side it’s resting on her shoulder.
“Jesus, what’d you do to her?”
“Nothing! I think she’s just drunk.”
An unfamiliar girl appears with a bottle of water to hand to the girl. She takes it and clasps it between both hands. Zach crouches down. “Is she okay?” he asks.
“Yes, this happens sometimes,” the new girl says in a French accent. “I’ll call an Uber.”
“How far is the drive?”
“Maybe thirty minutes?”
“That’s a long trip. She doesn’t look so good.”
“We don’t have anywhere else to stay.”