plants here,” Andy observed, and Leonidas couldn’t help but laugh.
“Over fifty acres of them.”
“You an expert?” Andy arched a brow.
“I read the pamphlet when I first arrived in Paris,” he answered.
“And when was that?”
“This time? A month or so.”
“Not your first visit?” Andy stretched his arm out and tickled the dangling leaves of a nearby tree. His hands were no longer shaking, Leonidas noted.
“No.”
“How long are you here for?” Andy glanced over at him and the sunlight sparkled off his amber eyes, then another cloud obscured the rays.
“Until I’m not.” He shrugged. “I’m going to the south of France when I’m done here, then Spain.”
“And after Spain?” Andy asked.
“Home,” he answered with a frown. “At least, that’s what is meant to happen.”
“Do you not want to go?”
He thought about the question before answering with a decisive, “I don’t want to stay.”
“I get that,” Andy said softly.
“How long are you here for?”
“Until I don’t want to be.”
Leonidas chuckled. “So easy.”
“Did you know Marius and Cosette fell in love here?” Andy asked out of nowhere, stopping in his tracks and blinking up at Leonidas so earnestly.
“They weren’t real,” he reminded Andy.
“Well, no.”
“And I doubt it was right here.” He pointed at the bench Andy had stopped beside.
“This is probably the first thing in Paris I’ve really enjoyed,” Andy grumbled. “Don’t steal it from me.”
“Andrew.” Leonidas reached for his hand, not able to stop himself before his fingers grazed Andy’s palm. Almost reflexively, Andy’s hand turned and his fingers spread, making room for Leonidas to slide their fingers together and curl them around the top of Andy’s hand.
Andy turned toward him, inhaling a breath so sharp, Leonidas felt it in his own bones. But he didn’t shake his hand away.
“Les Misérables was hardly a romance,” he muttered.
Andy inhaled loudly. “Do I not strike you as the romantic type?”
Leonidas’s nostrils flared and he bit down roughly on the inside of his cheek. “You didn’t strike me at all.”
He hoped the hint of longing in his voice went unheard, but Andy gave him a onceover, longer, slower, and more thoughtful then the one he’d received on Boulevard du Montparnasse. The tremble returned to Andy’s hand, and Leonidas tightened his grip so Andy couldn’t pull away.
“No,” Andy finally said. “I didn’t.”
An ominous rumble burst out of the sky, and the thunder rolled for what felt like an eternity.
“We should go,” Leonidas suggested. “There’s no place to wait out the storm here.”
He pulled Andy through the gardens, making note of the mournful expression on his face as they power-walked past the trees and fountains.
“I’ll bring you back,” he offered. “When the storm passes.”
“I can go on my own,” Andy said.
“I know.”
Leonidas dragged Andy out of the gardens. They made it a few more blocks before another crack of thunder shattered the sky. The sun was long gone now, and Leonidas knew they were going to get wet. Andy followed him in silence, still holding his hand, and then on their right, the Pantheon.
“So weird,” Andy mumbled.
“What is, agapi mou?”
Shit. He hadn’t meant that, hadn’t meant to let it slip, but something about the moment, the warmth of the air and the warmth of Andy’s hand, and he’d just…
“What did you say?”
“Nothing.” He tried to ignore it all. “What is weird?”
“How it’s just…” Andy gestured with his free hand. “Here. In the middle of everything. Like they just built around it.”
“Better than tearing it down like the Americans do.”
“You’re not wrong.” Andy yanked them to a stop and he stared up at the pillars that framed the portico.
They’d waited too long.
There was another large crack of thunder, and the sky opened. There was no preliminary drizzle, no hint of what was to come. Just thunder, and then rain. So much rain. People in the courtyard made to cover themselves, everyone rushing toward the entrance to the church. Andy stepped to follow, but Leonidas stopped him, pulling him away from the people, away from the courtyard.
“Where are you going?” he asked, wiping rain from his eyes. His hair was already soaking wet and plastered to his forehead, and Leonidas could barely see him through the curtain of the downpour.
“The alley.”
Leonidas pulled Andy toward a narrow alley, hoping for—and finding—a small, sheltered cut-out in one of the buildings. He pushed Andy into it, stumbling in behind. The rain was coming down so hard, they could barely see into the alley, and Leonidas turned to face Andy, feeling invigorated…among other things.
The space he’d found was small and cramped, and their hot