Page 123 of My French Love Affair

I refuse to feel like this.

I square my shoulders and keep walking, determined not to let him see any reaction.

He’s the one still staring atme, after all.

He’s the one who can’t look away.

I hold his gaze for just a beat longer than necessary - long enough to let him know that I see him, that I know he’s watching me - and then, just like that, I rip my eyes away.

This time, he doesn’t follow.

But I swear I can still feel him watching me as I step off the yacht and onto solid ground.

The second my feet hit the pavement, I exhale sharply, shaking off the sensation and forcing myself to focus. The girls are already moving ahead, and I quicken my pace to catch up.

“Well,thatwas a day,” Jas hums, stretching her arms over her head as we weave through the glitzy, bustling streets.

“And it’s not over yet!” Emma - who is now in full party mode - sings, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet.

I glance at her warily.

“You’re not seriously -”

“Oh, but Iam,” she interrupts as she links her arm through mine, eyes bright with drunken excitement. “We’re going out.”

“Emma, we just got off a yacht party. That we have been on all afternoon.”

“Exactly,” she grins. “We pre-gamed on a literal fuckingyacht. You know we have to keep going.”

Jas snickers.

“She’s got a point.”

Leah groans, massaging her temples. “You cannot be serious.”

“Oh, Iabsolutelyam,” Emma says.

“Emma, I swear to -”

“Leah,” Emma cuts in, just as dramatically, “We are inMonaco. If you think I’m going to bed early, then you don’t know me at all.”

Leah sighs, tipping her head back towards the sky.

“Fine.”

Emma cheers, swinging her gaze back to me. “Poppy, you in?”

Going out might just be the perfect way to shake this whole thing off, to drown out the lingering sensation of Frederic’s hands on me, of his mouth against my skin.

But Ican’t.

The only thing I want to do right now is scrub the night off me. To stand under a scalding hot shower, wash away every trace of him, and then collapse into bed.

“I’m going to sit this one out.”

“Oh, comeon,” Emma pouts.

“I really just need sleep,” I say, forcing a yawn. “I’mexhausted.”

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