Page 46 of Blue Eyes & Paris Vibes

"Yeah, no wonder you’re exhausted. Come on." I usher her into the elevator, pulling her into my arms as soon as the doors close.

"Let’s get back to my room. And then we have all the time in the world."

Abby

Iwakeuptoa warm presence behind me, hot breath feathering against my neck. It takes me a few moments before the memories of yesterday come flooding back, the way we climbed into bed together, just to cuddle, to enjoy each other’s presence after a year apart.

It’s going to be burned into my memory for the rest of my life.

How his fingertips danced over my arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake, how he looked at me like he couldn’t believe I was really there. For a moment, I’m convinced yesterday was just a dream, all of my hopes and daydreams catching up to me so vividly I confuse them with reality.

But now that I’m here, with his heavy arm draped around my waist, his hand spread out over my belly and feeling him breathe behind me as he spoons me under the soft hotel sheets, it really sinks in.

This is real. Our time here meant as much to him as it did to me. Enough to wish the impossible into reality.

“Morning, beautiful,” he whispers, his voice deeper than usual and still raspy with sleep as he stretches his fingers over my stomach and pulls me a little closer, breathing a relieved sigh.

“Good morning,” I mumble, not able to contain my smile as I try to glance at him over my shoulder. My breath hitches, the smile on my face widening as he presses his lips against the side of my head.

“I thought it was a dream,” I confess softly, trying to turn around without escaping his hold. It doesn’t quite work, but as soon as I settle, he wraps his arms around me again, fingertips dancing over the thin fabric of the shirt I grabbed in a hurry from my room before we made our way here. Conveniently, our rooms are on the same floor, so we didn’t have to do much of a detour.

“Me too,” he admits with a sheepish chuckle and my throat tightens. “I thought it was too good to be true, right?”

I nod solemnly. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. Seriously, I can’t believe this.”

“What are the chances?” he says with a low chuckle before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. When he opens them again, worry is written all over them. “You didn’t think I’d come back because I’m famous, right?”

“Well… mainly because I thought you giving me a wrong number was a gentle way of letting me down.” I grimace, trying to hide my face in his chest, feeling him chuckle. After a few deep breaths, I glance up at him, meeting his eyes. “I just thought you’d have enough options,” I mumble. “You could probably find someone better. But to answer your question, I didn’t really think that because you’re famous. I just talked myself into doubting if our time together mattered.”

“Well, it did,” he assures me, tucking a strand of hair that’s falling into my face behind my ear. “And you matter. A whole lot, actually.”

He still knows just what to say to make me blush. I try to hide my red face against his chest but he won’t let me, placing a finger under my chin so I can’t lower my head, damned to look at him.

“But to be completely honest, you’ve got my sister to thank,” he adds softly. “She convinced me to come here. You know, I searched for you. Quite a while, actually.”

My eyes widen, my heart beating loudly in my chest. “You did?”

“I only knew your first name,” he explains, his finger playing with a strand of my hair, tangling it around his hand and releasing it. “And it turns out alotof Abbeys live in London.” He sighs, and I can’t help but shake my head at him with an amused smile.

“I tried other ways to reach you too, you know,” I say, staring at the little dimple on his cheek as he smiles. “I even sent an email to your management, but I think they thought I was just a random fangirl.”

He pauses, the dimple suddenly disappearing. “Youwhat?”

“Yeah,” I nod softly, lifting my hand to trace patterns over his chest, right over his heart. “Honestly, maybe it’s better you didn’t get it. I was drunk and in my feelings.”

“Oh, now Idefinitelywant to read it,” he says with a grin and I bite my lip, quickly changing the topic.

“But why do I have your sister to thank?”

“Remember how I said I searched for you? Well, I kind of reached my limit. After nine months combing through Instagram profiles, hours of Google searches…” He trails off, his voice tinged with frustration. I can’t help myself; I move closer, scooting up until my head rests on his pillow, our faces just a breath apart. I cradle his cheek in my hand, and like a cat, he leans into my touch, eyes softening before he picks up where he left off.

“And in the past year, all of my brothers got coupled up. Seriously. Even ‘I’m married to my work’ Adam got a girlfriend. Then Jackson, who lives in London, by the way, found someone, and most recently, Tanner started dating the sister of one of his friends. And I just couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admits, a wistful look washing over his face.

I gently run my thumb over his cheek and his eyes flutter shut for a moment, leaning into my touch, before he continues. “Seeing them all happy made me remember our time together. Made me wonder and lay awake at night, trying to work out potential logistics in my head and all of a sudden it didn’t seem so impossible anymore. You were always on my mind, babe.”

“Yeah. You were on mine, too,” I whisper, mirroring his soft smile.

“So when I visited my sister in the hospital—” My eyes widen and my whole body tenses. Hospital?

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