giggles. “I can’t say Paris is boring, but it just got a lot more fun now that you’re here.” She pins me with a sincere look, and our gazes lock for a long, lingering moment, urging me to throw her over my shoulder and take her right back to bed.
But I’m here to see my girl in Paris, and that’s what we’re going to do. “So, talk to me about what we’re doing for the next two weeks. Where are we headed? I know you have an itinerary hidden somewhere, so whip it out already.”
“That sounds dirty,” Norah squeals before ducking inside and grabbing her yellow legal pad. She returns and flops down in her seat, looking like she’s getting ready to run a board meeting. “But you’re right…I have it all mapped out.”
“How very on brand of you.” I wink at her.
“And I have some rules,” she says, biting her lip nervously.
My brows furrow at that. “Rules?”
She nods and flips the page, squinting at her handwriting. “Yes…rules for a newly-in-love couple to make it through a two-week European vacation together.”
“This should be good,” I groan and straighten out my glasses in preparation.
“Number one, waffle hand-holding only. Number two, sex every night and morning.”
“Mornings too?” I reply with a smirk. “My, aren’t we demanding in Paris?”
She points her pen at me accusingly. “You got me addicted to morning sex in Aspen.”
“Oh, so it’s my fault,” I huff with a laugh.
“Everything is your fault, Dean.” She shoots me a mischievous wink. “Okay, number three, no going to bed angry. We talk it out until we can fuck it out.”
“That’s a Boulder rule too, so I already agree to that one.”
Things became a little tense back home before Norah left on her trip. She was stressed about leaving the bakeries, and I was stressed about her leaving me, and…well…we had a fight. But it was okay, because my dark passenger stayed firmly in his place, and we were able to work through everything all in one night.
I’m learning how to be a good boyfriend one step at a time.
And honestly, talking with my mom about everything was a big part of that. She felt horrible when I told her that the things she said made me feel unworthy of love. She even cried, which was a little manipulative on her part. I held strong and told her if she wanted to meet Norah and be a part of our lives, she needed to take accountability for the baggage she pushed off on me about Dad.
I am not my father.
I am not my father.
And strangely enough, the time we’ve spent with Norah’s parents has given me a great example of what a long-lasting love can look like. Jeff is a man I strongly admire because he’s selfless with his wife and madly in love with her and all her neurotic, overbearing tendencies. And as much as I would never ever say this to Norah, she reminds me of Elaine in a lot of ways. Which means I can learn a lot from watching Norah’s dad. He’s the kind of husband I want to be someday.
I exhale heavily at that thought because that’s a new idea that’s been creeping inside me ever since Norah left for Paris. Being her boyfriend has been incredible, but the more time we spend together, in person or even via video calls, the more I can see the appeal of putting a ring on her finger.
What can I say? I’m a man in love.
“Rule number four,” Norah says, pulling me out of my internal reverie, “kisses constantly. This is France, and if you’re not kissing, you’re not living.”
I lean over the small table between us and make good on that rule right away. The kiss ramps up into a deep, drugging embrace that makes me want to forget her itinerary and just spend two weeks in this apartment together. Have I mentioned I missed her?
When we pull apart, her upper lip has a nice sheen on it, and I smile proudly. “I like that rule.”
“Last rule,” she croaks, gazing into my eyes with a warmth I can feel in my bones. “Always say I love you.”
“I love you.” I state it softly and with a deeper feeling than I could have imagined having for another person. “I love you.”
The End
Keep reading for a link to the BONUS EPILOGUE for Dean and Norah and to check out an excerpt from another fake relationship story of mine, Endurance!
More from the Wait