Page 123 of Kiss Me Like I Didn't Kill You

Her name lights up my screen and relief hits me all at once. I answer quickly, her voice spilling through the line.

She asks about Paris, and I tell her everything, the Tower, the view, the ridiculous price of champagne. She laughs when I mention the Louvre, says she’s jealous, and I tell her she should be.

I ask why she’s not here with me, but her tone changes. She goes quiet for a moment, then says she has to go.

I let out a breath and drop the phone back into my bag, but not before checking the time.

It’s later than I thought. Panic creeps up my chest, I didn’t even feel the hours go.

Father’s going to lose his mind if I’m late. I still have to figure out how to get back to the villa. Taxi, bus, anything.

I signal the waiter, pay quickly, and gather my things.

I force myself not to look back. To act normal. To have a little dignity and not behave like a lovesick idiot.

And then, of course, I look back.

He’s still there. His eyes find mine right away, like they never really left. The same intensity, hits me all over again.

I manage the smallest smile before forcing myself to turn away and walk out.

Outside, the air is cooler now. I breathe in deeply, tilt my face up to the sky, and close my eyes for a moment, just long enough to calm the rush in my chest.

I pull out my phone, open Maps, and start typing the villa’s address.

I feel someone behind me, and I don’t even have to turn to know who it is.

My breath stumbles. His warmth seeps through the space between us, his scent curling around me, wild berries mixed with something darker, like rain and smoke.

It’s intoxicating. It makes my knees weak.

“Where do you think you’re going?”His voice is low, rough around the edges.

I turn slowly, phone still in hand, and when I face him, he’s closer than I expected. I have to tilt my chin up to meet his eyes.

For a second, I forget how to breathe.He’s even more beautiful up close. Dangerous, yes, but in that ruinous, impossible way that can’t be faked.

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. He smirks, knowing, and it’s devastating, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

Then he says, “Did you really think I’d let you leave without your name… or your number?”

My heart stumbles. I don’t even think before I whisper, “Ophelia.”

He repeats it under his breath. “Ophelia.”

The way he says it, undoes me completely.

And just like that, I’m lost.

“What’s yours?” The words barely make it past my lips.

He leans in a little, close enough that I can feel his breath when he answers. “Arlo.”

I repeat it softly. “Arlo.”

His eyes shift, just slightly. A flicker of heat, of danger, of something I can’t name.

He looks at me for a long moment before taking my hand. “Come with me.”