over anything else. Paris isn’t a city that you walk around in stilettos all day. I settle on black skinny jeans, my favorite worn in Chucks, and a t-shirt. My lip gloss is applied no less than thirteen times, and if I go one more coat of mascara, I’m going to have clumpy, spider-web lashes. Worst look ever, by the way.
Glancing at the clock, I realize there’s still thirty minutes to spare. Good God, did time stop?
After pacing around the hotel room a few more times, I decide to channel my nervous energy into something that won’t leave holes in the plush carpet of my room. I grab my messenger bag and meander down to the lobby, making my way outside. I find a bench that sits off the beaten path inside the quiet courtyard. I shoot Dylan a quick text letting him know where to find me, slide off my Chucks, plop my ass on the bench, and then lose myself inside the pages of my journal.
Dear Whoever?
Sometimes, I wish I were as carefree and spontaneous as Lindsay.
Want to spend time with your best friend in Paris? Drop everything and do it.
See a guy that catches your eye? Grab him by the balls and make him yours for the night.
You think your best friend needs some alone time with a hot musician? Call that designer that wants your pretty face on their fall clothing launch, and then tell her to do whatever the fuck she wants and that you won’t tell a soul.
Can life really be that simple?
Sometimes I wonder if I’m my own worst enemy, like I’m the one preventing myself from really being myself . Most days, I feel like “me.” Most days, I’m comfortable in my own skin, happy with my life, my family, and my friends. But then there are those days that creep up on me, hovering like a black cloud. And it’s those dark days that make me wonder how one person, who’s surrounded by so many great and loving people, could still feel like the loneliest person in the world?
Today isn’t one of those days. It feels like a new beginning. Like someone has washed the darkness out of my soul and is letting me see things differently for once. Maybe it’s because I’m in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, or maybe it’s because I get to spend more time with him. Dylan. How can a name I’ve only known for a week feel like a complete thought? A perfect thought?
A shadow covers the pages of my journal. My brow furrows from the disruption. I glance up, meeting my reflection within mirrored aviator shades. They cover eyes that arc across the green spectrum of the color wheel. The first time I saw those eyes, they were bright green and luminescent in their depths. I wonder what they look like today.
“I hope you haven’t been standing there long.”
“Don’t mind me,” Dylan says, motioning towards my journal.
The cap of my pen finds its way to my mouth. My teeth bite down as I take in his grin. I wonder if his eyes have honed in on my lips and darkened a few shades. Last night, after finishing a shot he bought me, their hazy depths became a deep hue as they watched my tongue swipe across my bottom lip.
“Seriously, I’m in no rush,” he adds. “Finish whatever you’re doing. I’ve got all the time in the world.” He sprawls out on the bench, using my messenger bag as a pillow against the armrest. His long legs are still bent, the bench too small to accommodate his large frame.
I turn towards him, still cross-legged and barefoot. “Well, please, make yourself comfortable,” I tease, nodding towards his makeshift pillow.
“Don’t mind if I do.”
Soft laughter spills from my mouth.
“Anyway, I quite like sitting here, watching you lose yourself in whatever you’re doing.”
“Exactly how long have you been watching me like a creeper?” I ask, tapping his thigh with my foot.
“Long enough to know I’m a fan of whatever has you looking so peaceful and content.”
My nose crinkles. “You’re weird.”
“You’re gorgeous.” He winks. “And what is that?” He nods towards the
Glancing at the clock, I realize there’s still thirty minutes to spare. Good God, did time stop?
After pacing around the hotel room a few more times, I decide to channel my nervous energy into something that won’t leave holes in the plush carpet of my room. I grab my messenger bag and meander down to the lobby, making my way outside. I find a bench that sits off the beaten path inside the quiet courtyard. I shoot Dylan a quick text letting him know where to find me, slide off my Chucks, plop my ass on the bench, and then lose myself inside the pages of my journal.
Dear Whoever?
Sometimes, I wish I were as carefree and spontaneous as Lindsay.
Want to spend time with your best friend in Paris? Drop everything and do it.
See a guy that catches your eye? Grab him by the balls and make him yours for the night.
You think your best friend needs some alone time with a hot musician? Call that designer that wants your pretty face on their fall clothing launch, and then tell her to do whatever the fuck she wants and that you won’t tell a soul.
Can life really be that simple?
Sometimes I wonder if I’m my own worst enemy, like I’m the one preventing myself from really being myself . Most days, I feel like “me.” Most days, I’m comfortable in my own skin, happy with my life, my family, and my friends. But then there are those days that creep up on me, hovering like a black cloud. And it’s those dark days that make me wonder how one person, who’s surrounded by so many great and loving people, could still feel like the loneliest person in the world?
Today isn’t one of those days. It feels like a new beginning. Like someone has washed the darkness out of my soul and is letting me see things differently for once. Maybe it’s because I’m in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, or maybe it’s because I get to spend more time with him. Dylan. How can a name I’ve only known for a week feel like a complete thought? A perfect thought?
A shadow covers the pages of my journal. My brow furrows from the disruption. I glance up, meeting my reflection within mirrored aviator shades. They cover eyes that arc across the green spectrum of the color wheel. The first time I saw those eyes, they were bright green and luminescent in their depths. I wonder what they look like today.
“I hope you haven’t been standing there long.”
“Don’t mind me,” Dylan says, motioning towards my journal.
The cap of my pen finds its way to my mouth. My teeth bite down as I take in his grin. I wonder if his eyes have honed in on my lips and darkened a few shades. Last night, after finishing a shot he bought me, their hazy depths became a deep hue as they watched my tongue swipe across my bottom lip.
“Seriously, I’m in no rush,” he adds. “Finish whatever you’re doing. I’ve got all the time in the world.” He sprawls out on the bench, using my messenger bag as a pillow against the armrest. His long legs are still bent, the bench too small to accommodate his large frame.
I turn towards him, still cross-legged and barefoot. “Well, please, make yourself comfortable,” I tease, nodding towards his makeshift pillow.
“Don’t mind if I do.”
Soft laughter spills from my mouth.
“Anyway, I quite like sitting here, watching you lose yourself in whatever you’re doing.”
“Exactly how long have you been watching me like a creeper?” I ask, tapping his thigh with my foot.
“Long enough to know I’m a fan of whatever has you looking so peaceful and content.”
My nose crinkles. “You’re weird.”
“You’re gorgeous.” He winks. “And what is that?” He nods towards the
Similar Books
