Page 68 of My French Love Affair

“From northern France,” Emma adds, scrolling. “Not much personal info, though.”

Jas narrows her eyes at the screen. “Yeah. Weirdly private.”

I take an aggressive bite of my croissant.

“Maybe that’s because he doesn’t want people like you doing this exact thing.”

Leah ignores me as she clicks onto his Instagram.

“Oh,hello,” she says, eyes twinkling as she scrolls through his perfectly curated feed.

Emma leans over her shoulder. “Tagged photos check?”

Leah nods and taps the tagged photos section. More photos appear - some with his team, some from racing weekends, some clearly from nights out, and Jas hums.

“Well, he looksverysingle.”

Leah sighs dramatically. “Tragic.”

“You should fix that,” Emma grins at me.

I almost choke on my coffee.

“Absolutely not.”

Leah grins at me, wiggling her brows.

“Come on, Poppy. He’s French. He’s charming. He’s insufferable in a way that’s clearly doing something to you.”

I glare at her. “The only thing he’s doing to me is ruining my life.”

“Yeah, yeah,that’swhat this is,” Jas snorts.

Emma, still scrolling, pauses thoughtfully.

“Hm. This isweird.”

I tense. “What?”

“It’s just that I’ve scrolled back, and he doesn’t seem to post much outside of racing stuff. And there’s, like…nothingabout his family. No siblings. No old school photos. Just…cars.”

Leah pouts. “That’s boring.”

“I don’t know,” Emma shrugs. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe he’s just private.”

“Or maybe,” Jas says, sipping her coffee, “he’s hiding something.”

Leah gasps, clearly loving the drama of it all.

I, however, am done with this conversation.

I grab my phone, slide out of bed, and head toward the sanctuary of the bathroom.

“Where areyougoing?” Emma calls.

I glance back. “Somewhere where people aren’t investigating my alleged enemies-to-lovers situation, thank you very much.”

“Alleged, huh?” Jas smirks.

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