PART 6- CHAPTER 195 JESS

By the end of the night, the art exhibition had transformed into a bit of a blur, a dazzle of colors, chatter and too many glasses of champagne, courtesy of Laura and her charming determination to lift my spirits. We'd been laughing our way through the last gallery room wher a tall, dark-haired Frenchman who seemed to radiate that effortless Parisian confidence, his smile subtle and warm, his laugh low and lingering.

"Enchanté," he murmured when Laura nudged me, his eyes holding mine a bit longer than seemed polite. His English was thick, with a French accent. He'd said something that made me laugh, something witty enough that I didn't hesitate when he offered me his arm and a Now, as we stumbled up the winding, dimly lit staircase to Laura's apartment, we tripped on the final stair, collapsing against each other with laughter and shushed voices, a tangle of hands and dizzy,

shared glances. He leaned into me, his breath warm on my cheek, his hand drifting to the small of my back as I fumbled for my key, his lips a mere inch from mine.

He chuckled, the sound low and smooth. "You are... charmingly terrible at this," he teased, his fingers brushing mine as he took the key from my hand and tried it himself. For a second, I allowed myself to fall into hist gaze, an intoxicating blend of amusement and attraction close, and the champagne made everything feel just a bit more surreal.

The door finally gave way, and we tumbled inside, bumping into the wall with giggles that we tried to quiet but couldn't quite manage. His hands lingered at my hips as he steadied me, then leaned in, his lips a whisper PART & CHAPTER 195

away from mine. A flicker of nerves ran through me, and my instinct kicked in-l tilted my head away, laughing it off, making it seem casual even though my heart thudded in my chest. I needed a second. A breath. "Wait," I said with a smirk, making my way to the kitchen. "First, drinks."

grabbed a bottle of wine and poured a glass. The room felt too quiet

slight tilt of his head. The idea that I was really here, really about

wine push back the memories that kept clawing their way to the surface. Luke. It was like his ghost was haunting every corner of this city, lingering in every shadow, every familiar place where I felt just a bit too much li He was woven into every memory, his smirk, his laughter, the way his touch could set my skin on

I'd bury him with a memory of

was warm. a

and he was nothing like Luke, which was exactly what I needed. He was patient, giving me the space to make up my mind, and he didn't know my past, didn't come with the baggage that seemed to trail my every thought

inside me, a simmering decision that tonight, I would do this.

PART & CHAPTER 195

hard it was. So I set my glass down, crossed the room, and closed the distance between us in one breathless moment,

finding my waist, pulling me close in a way that was both careful and

in with a kind of practiced grace. His fingers traced along my back, his touch firm and steady, grounding me in

sensation, the unfamiliar thrill of being with someone new, someone who didn't know my history, didn't know my heart. My fingers tangled in his hair, and I let myself forget for a moment, shutting out the lingering ache

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