Page 28 of Everything About You
beneath one of the walls of bookshelves, and a desk with a typewriter in front of a window. The colors are all inviting, and
a mirror on the wall seems to bounce the light and warmth all around.
“It’s... charming.”
His smile widens. “Yeah? I agree. Ollie hates it. And so does Freddie.” Then: “He’s my best mate.”
I’m very vaguely familiar with the existence of Freddie from social media, but this is the first time Rhodes has ever mentioned
him to me. It seems like a big step for some reason, which may be silly, but we haven’t discussed much about him outside of
his family now that I think about it, even in all the stories he shared when he made me dinner.
“Is he back in London?”
Rhodes furrows his brow, turning to one of the bookshelves. “Mmm, no. What’s it, now? June... he’s on holiday, that’s for
sure. Mykonos, maybe.”
“Oh, of course.”
He laughs. “What does that mean?”
I shake my head. “No, nothing.”
“Tell me!”
“It’s just that we come from different worlds, that’s all. I don’t have friends who go on holiday to Mykonos. I’m still getting
used to these kinds of things being casual phrases.”
Rhodes nods. “Well, to be fair, going on holiday within Europe is a bit easier than from the States. But I see what you mean
overall. Freddie’s big into travel, actually. He just doesn’t quite like hanging around old bookstores.”
“Well, it’s a nice chance for some alone time, then.”
He shifts to face me, lowering his gaze and bringing his hand to my chin. “Or time with a cute boy.”
Then he kisses me, and when our lips meet, it’s got to be a better feeling than any kisses written within any of these pages.
I’m lost in all of it—his palm on my cheek, our noses brushing, his teeth tugging gently at my bottom lip. With his other
hand on my waist, he pulls me in, until we hear the stairs creaking behind us and break apart.
We fight laughter, pretending to look through the books, and I hold my hands down around waist level to hide anything potentially
embarrassing.
“So.” I clear my throat. “How did you and Freddie become friends?”
Rhodes pulls a face. “Thinking about Freddie during that kiss?”
“No!” I knock him lightly in the chest. “I just like getting to know you.”
“Sure,” he says. “Freddie and I met at an Armoury match, big surprise. The beginning and end of life itself seems to be Armoury
United.”
Grabbing a dusty brown leather book off the shelf, he flicks through the pages.
“We were in the box—I think Ollie was playing with Under-14s at the time, and whenever his schedule allowed for it, we were
going to basically all of the professional Armoury matches. Freddie’s dad is a financial something-or-other in London...
to this day I actually still couldn’t tell you.”
He closes the book and hands it to me, but when I pay it no attention, he smirks and continues.
“Right, they were in the box with us, and Freddie was just playing bloody GTA on the telly. Dad’s box has all the amenities, really.”
“ GTA is...”
“ Grand Theft Auto .”
“Right, that’s what I thought.”
Rhodes holds his palm out to take the book back, and then he shelves it. “We haven’t played it since we were fifteen or so,
to be fair, but I can assure you it is good fun. Yeah, I guess that’s the story, really. I sat with Freddie and we took turns
playing.”
I nod. “Did Ollie play with you as well?”
Shaking his head, Rhodes eyes another book. “No.”
Before I can ask anything else, he’s off to another shelf, lifting his finger to the wood.
“Should we buy a book?” Rhodes scrunches up his face. “Maybe not. I have this terrible habit of buying books and not reading
them.”
“Oh yeah?”
He hangs his head. “I love the prospect of it—a new book, a new experience or world or educational opportunity. I’ll find a book, and I’ll have this sort of grand idea of how it’ll be so nice to escape into it.
Set the scene, something cozy like those reading TikToks.
But I never do it. Literally just never do. My attention span is too short.”
I fold my arms. “I’m sure your attention span is long enough to read a book.”
“Afraid not, Milo.”
“When was the last time you read a book?”
He grimaces. “I did almost finish a book about the fashion industry before starting the apprenticeship. It’s a fictionalized
account of Renard Florin and his contemporaries—like Chanel, Dior, and Givenchy. It was interesting to fact-check and see
what was really happening in Paris and in fashion during the time period, though the fictionalized drama was a bit over-the-top
for me. Bit indulgent, and the language was way too flowery.”
“I haven’t even heard of a book like that.”
I’m impressed by Rhodes yet again. For his dedication and also for his critical analysis. I don’t think I’ve ever had such
a strong opinion on writing. Maybe if it was something I got graded on, but even then, I haven’t found myself to be particularly
sensitive to the style of prose.
He’s surprising, yet again.
“I might have finished it if it were a bit better.”
“Fair enough.”
“I have actually read Pascal’s book front to back,” he offers. “Before I found out about this apprenticeship or anything.
When it first came out. I know it’s a coffee table book, but, like I’ve said before, he’s a real talent.”
My eyes widen. “I’ve read it front to back too.”
“Have you?”
I nod. “My best friend, Celeste, said she’d never heard of someone actually reading a coffee table book.”
“People are missing out,” he says. “They’re as utilitarian as they are decorative.”
We laugh.
“You really do love Maison Dauphine,” I say. “I’m sorry I ever questioned you. Wasn’t really fair of me.”
He waves me off. “No worries. I think, in context, your assumptions were all sort of fair. But I’m glad it sounds like I’m
proving them wrong.”
“Definitely.”
Rhodes kisses me again. He sneaks a kiss every chance he gets, in each room of this little whimsical bookstore. With every
kiss, I find myself wanting more. No amount of him seems to be enough. He locks his fingers into mine for little moments when
nobody is around, and the last time, when they break apart, he looks down at me, very seriously.
“I’m not hiding you or keeping you a secret,” he says. “It’s just that these things tend to blow up pretty quickly once someone
snaps a photo or something. And since we are still working together...”
I bob my head up and down quickly. “Of course, you don’t have to explain.”
As if on cue, someone asks Rhodes for a photo.
Once we’re back outside, someone else asks him for one. They hand me their phone and I snap the perfect shot with a gorgeous
Parisian backdrop.
It’s nice to be in his orbit, really.
When we’re alone again, Rhodes brushes some hair from his forehead and then catches me smiling at him like a lovesick puppy. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” I blush.
“Right.” He puts one hand in his pocket as we walk across the street into a park. Then he points across the way, past a fountain
and people sitting on stone steps and benches, toward a tree with a massive leaning trunk, beside what appears to be a church.
“You know, that’s the oldest tree in Paris.”
“Wow. You seem to know so many interesting things.”
“You sound surprised,” he says, clutching his chest. We approach the tree, and it’s sweet the way he seems to revere it, softened
eyes set on the greenery. “I reckon I just love this city. I wish I knew everything about it, really.”
Studying the grooves and edges of the tree, I tilt my head. “Do you love Paris more than London?”
Rhodes blows a raspberry. “Oh, definitely. I don’t know. It’s my escape. Having a twin is the best thing in the world, but
sometimes it’s nice to have something that just feels like it belongs to me, I guess. Ollie’s never cared for Paris the same
way, and it’s always felt like mine.” Then he kicks his toe into the dirt. “Does that even make any sense? Probably sounds
really silly, doesn’t it?”
I knock my shoulder into his. “Not at all.”
“I’m so glad to be here this summer,” he says, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath. Then he turns to me. “I’m glad
you’re here too. And, look, I know this new thing between us... I know it doesn’t change the circumstances. We both want the job. But I’m hoping we can separate it. I’m
really hoping we can.”
“One of us is going to win and one of us is going to lose.”
Rhodes lifts his shoulders. “We can figure it out together.”
“Sure. I hope that’s true.” I shake off the dread that comes along with those thoughts, desperate to get back to the way I
felt kissing him in the bookstore. “Come on, I want at least five more interesting facts about Paris before you have to go.”
He tosses his head back laughing. “Okay, Milo, now be careful what you wish for.”
Celeste: WELL??
Celeste: HOW DID IT GO
Me: the apartment speakers might currently be playing Today Was A Fairytale
Me: (Taylor’s Version)
Celeste: FUCK YES