Page 7 of Moonstruck at Midnight
People couldn’t stop staring at the famous couple and their entourage—they all seemed accustomed to it.
Standing up to get my blood flowing was necessary to prevent myself from sadly fusing with the couch. At least the wine was delicious. I took a few sips of it and contemplated a bathroom break when my phone buzzed.
Caleb:Bored?
Me:Of course not! Best night ever.
I looked to my right and saw Caleb replying to my text with a smile. This was the definition of a perfect night-out for him—me alone, bored, and wanting to leave. Nocreepswanting to talk to me, nopsychoswanting to spike my drink—everything under control.
Caleb:Do you want to leave?
I honestly was ready to leave. I was typing my reply when someone grazed the back of my arm.
I turned around and saw this tall, illegally handsome guy in front of me with dark-chestnut hair and matching eyes that glistened against his ivory skin.
“Hi,” he said, lifting the right corner of his mouth into a cute, crooked smile. He held a short tumbler with an amber-colored drink—probably whiskey.
“I’m Thomas.” He introduced himself with an American accent.
“Hi, I’m Guillermina—you can call me Billie.”
I peeked in Caleb’s direction and saw him tucking his phone back into his jacket pocket. His attention focused on my conversation with the stranger.
“That’s a beautiful name, Billie.”
My cheeks warmed, and the wine was not helping my case. Thank God for the dim lighting.
Caleb took a couple of measured steps my way, his eyes searching for mine. But I slowly gave my back to him because I couldn’t handle the intensity of his gaze. Cecile peered in my direction and turned away quickly, trying not to ruin my interaction with Thomas.
“Can I offer you more wine?” He extended his hand for me to give him my glass, which I did, willingly. I thanked him for what would be my third glass. Or was it my fourth, considering the one I had at the restaurant?
Toughenup.
He took the glass out of my hands and gestured for a refill to someone behind me. A few seconds later, our star server appeared out of nowhere with a fresh glass of wine and presented it to Thomas. His almond eyes kept looking straight through me.
I quickly figured out that men, especially the handsome ones, were the only ones who deserved her five-star express service.
“Here you go.” He offered the glass of wine with a flirty smile while casually eyeing me from head to toe. I didn’t mind it. At. All.
Thomas asked me if I was in Paris for vacation as he licked his heart-shaped lips right before taking a sip on his drink. Although his lips weren’t very full, the shape of them was perfect.
“No, I live here. I’ll be going back home soon, though, in about a month.” I sipped on my wine, too, mostly out of nerves. “We’ve been living here for almost four years now.”
“Where’s home?” he asked, pulling softly at his white shirt’s collar.
“New York.” I noticed the alcohol really kicking in.
“Your cheeks match your hair.” He slowly grazed a strand of my hair with the back of his fingers. My blood raced back to my face again. “And I think it’s cute.” He smiled, fully aware of the impact he was having on me.
“Do you—live here?” I was hoping he did.
“No, um, I’m originally from Washington, DC. But I’m a sophomore at Princeton now, so I guess we’ll be neighbors.” He threw a teasing wink at me. An even better response. And that wink melted me.
“My parents are attending an event here in Paris, and since it’s spring break for me, I kind of—tagged along. We’re heading back home tomorrow,” he explained, looking at his empty glass. He moved his thick dark brows up and down swiftly and signaled for a refill.
We chatted for a while. Thomas told me he rowed crew at Princeton and talked about what he did during his time in Paris. I mentioned my passion for photography and how excited I was of going back to New York.
A remix of “Crave You” from Flight Facilities I’d never heard before started playing in the background. Thomas grabbed my free hand, twirled me, and pulled me toward him.
