Page 206 of My French Love Affair

Jas groans from her spot on the other bed, rubbing her temples.

“Emma, if you don’t lower your voice, I swear to God, I will murder you in your sleep.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to manifest my way into the paddock. I don’t seeyoucoming up with any solutions to this problem.”

Meanwhile, Leah is preoccupied with her phone, only half-listening as she scrolls.

“I won’t be coming with you all in the morning, by the way,” she announces. “Jacques is picking me up. I’ll meet you there, though.”

Jas and I exchange a look. Ofcourseshe’s going with Jacques.

We each take turns showering, the exhaustion of the day settling in as the minutes tick on. The lingering smell of saltwater and sun lotion washes down the drain, and by the time I curl up in bed, my body feels heavy -

But my mind is utterly restless.

I sigh, reaching for my phone, and my stomach flutters when I see a new message from Frederic.

Miss me yet?

I bite my lip, rolling onto my side.

Should I?

His response comes immediately.

That’s not an answer.

I smirk as my fingers hover over the keyboard.

Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping? You do have a race to focus on, you know.

I’m teasing him, sure, but there’s truth behind it, too. Sometimes, I wonder how this man functions - I swear I need a minimum of ten hours of sleep to be in a half-decent mood, never mindwork.

It’s pretty hard to sleep when I’m thinking about you, Poppy.

A slow, warm sensation curls in my stomach, my body reacting before my brain even catches up.

Oh.

I hesitate, then slip out of bed, quietly tiptoeing into the bathroom and locking the door behind me.

The screen glows in my palm as I type. I delete it, start over and delete it again several times before finally plucking up the courage to send it.

And what exactly are you thinking about?

My heart is in my throat as I watch thedeliveredturn toread,and I suddenly feel like I’m back in high school.

It’s ridiculous, the effect this man has on me.

I shouldn’t be half as flustered as I am right now. My cheeks are warm, my breathing is uneven, and my fingers tremble slightly as I tighten my grip on the sink.

It’s just words. Just messages.

So why does it feel like he’s right here in the room with me?

My phone vibrates again, and I rush to read his response.

How much I wish I had you in my bed right now.

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