THIS BOOK IS RATED MATURE, READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS BEFORE READING.
"You've made a deal with the devil, chica. And you're going to suffer the consequences."
Esmeralda Hernandez likes to play pretend. She likes to pretend her life is perfect, that...
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CHAPTER EIGHT
Paris is one of the most beautiful cities I have ever visited. I cannot count how many times I came here but every time I do, it feels like I am still the same innocent 10 years old girl who was in love with the artistic side of the capital of France.
After Milo announced that we would be going on a trip, saying that I was in an utter panic would be an understatement. I had to pack my things, tell my parents, who were more than delighted that our "plan" was going well, and Rita, who only advised me to take care of myself. Then, he picked me up from my house and we went to the airport. I slept for half the flight, and it went surprisingly well, considering that he was actually being nice. We did not bring up the modeling event night and I was more than grateful that he acted like nothing happened.
Well, technically nothing happened besides you embarrassing yourself in front of him, but that wouldn't be the first time, right ?
When we finally arrived, I met some of Milo's filming crew and the producer of the movie, they got someone bring our luggage to our room, and they let us take a walk in the city.
Right now, him and I are on our way to dinner, we walk side by side, not holding hands and occasionally having small talk, which has become an an easy thing by now.
"My Mom and Dad met here, right next to La Seine." I say, with my lame french accent, when we walk past the lake.
He turns towards me, raising an eyebrow at me. I slide my arm around his and he stiffens for a moment, then relaxes into my unfamiliar touch. His body is burning hot, even with the cold weather of Paris, and I almost purr at how good he feels.
It's summer but it's cold, which doesn't really make sense to me, but the beauty of the city compensates for how horrid the weather is.
"They take Rita and I back here at least one time a year. By now, I practically now the city by heart. I even learned how to speak some french."
He might already know that, since we've known each-other for our whole lives, but I inform him of it anyway.
He smirks at my small rant and says, "Say something in french, then."
I frown, my cheeks burning with embarrassment and something like joy that he is actually interested.
I look into his green eyes, and for a single instant, we're just a boy and a girl again. I am fourteen again. Fourteen and in love with my best friend. We were so innocent back then, the only thing that mattered to us was that we were together.
