Chasing Heartbreak (Dark Love #6) - Kat T. Masen Page 0,31

so shut up.

Some things between us never change. I decide not to push him further, sliding my phone into my purse and diverting my attention back onto the scenery.

“What’s wrong?” Charlie questions, annoyed at our secret exchange. “What did Noah say?”

“I, um…” I turn to Noah to answer as we’re caught in the act. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What’s the secret between you? We’re all friends, so spill.”

“If we’re all friends,” Lex repeats with his head still focused on his screen. “Why don’t you share what you sent Kate?”

“Fine,” she huffs with exaggeration. “I’m exhausted, no thanks to you. Drunk sex is overrated, whereas sleep is not.”

“If you think drunk sex is overrated, explain the two orgasms you had within minutes?”

Charlie’s mouth falls to open the same time Noah groans, resting his head against the glass window.

“Driver, how long until we’re there?” Noah almost shouts.

The driver smiles as we turn down another long road. “One hour, monsieur.”

And that’s the end of us talking during the car ride.

An hour later, Auvray Le Champagne is in view. There’s something to be said about the countryside, it brings with it a sense of peace and serenity. Something I didn’t realize was missing from my life of late until now.

Mr. Auvray is standing out front with his wife, Claudette, waving to us as the car pulls into the large circular driveway. With welcoming smiles, we all shake hands as I introduce everyone to him and his wife. Moments later, he motions for his staff to take our bags and offers to take us in for an introduction drink. The plan is to take a personal tour of the grounds later this afternoon, followed by a specially cooked dinner by his personal chef.

We choose to spend the few hours we have to spare exploring the town of Champagne. There’s so much to see catering to different tastes—several bars from intimate and cozy to more sophisticated establishments that draw in a diverse crowd.

The finest wines and champagne are the region’s specialties, along with the fantastic food each venue has to offer—a la carte menus and local culinary delicacies, a foodie’s dream with all the choices to suit any pallet.

Yet, looking beyond the bars and restaurants, Champagne arouses the senses and showcases the best of France. It’s easy for our eyes to feast on vines parading up the hillsides, the smell of fresh air so easy to breathe in. Everything is beautiful, and as we walk along the streets admiring our surroundings, Noah clears his throat beside me.

“Listen, about last night…”

I smile at a couple walking toward us, shuffling closer to Noah to avoid running into them. “What’s going on with you?”

Noah bows his head, keeping his hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans. He often raises his eyes to gaze ahead but will quickly revert to his closed state.

“I don’t know,” he finally admits as Lex and Charlie turn around, suggesting we stop at the small café to grab some coffee.

The intense dark coffee is exactly what my body needs to sober up before we go champagne tasting later on today. Savoring those first few sips, my lips relish in delight as the warm liquid graces them.

After another hour of walking, my feet are on the verge of being numb. The caffeine begins to wear off as we make our way back to the chateau, making me incredibly grumpy. Sleep would be the perfect solution if Mr. Auvray weren’t standing out front waiting for us to commence our tour.

The property is stunning. The architecture is exquisite, hand-built by his great-grandfather and uncle almost a century ago. Over the years, Mr. Auvray has spent some money updating the property, but it still can use some improvements to attract more guests.

We walk through the fields while Mr. Auvray explains the harvesting of the grapes to fermentation. He takes us through the production facility, showing us the remaining process all the way to corking. Finally, he then walks us through the dark cellars where bottles of champagne lay flat on their side labeled as vintage.

Lex is consumed with the entire process, asking questions as they walk slightly ahead of us. Noah walks beside me, kicking loose stones with his feet. I assume, much like me, the exhaustion has crept in explaining the uninviting mood.

“You’ve changed,” Noah mutters, his words barely audible. “You’re not the same person.”

“Well, neither are you,” I shoot back, annoyed at his judgmental tone. “Just because we were friends years ago doesn’t mean