Penn leaned back on the bench with his feet straight out in front of him. “The parks really make the city. They’re so different from what I’m used to. Don’t get me wrong. Central Park is home, but well, it closes at night.”
“Are we sure this park is even open?” I glanced around, wondering if perhaps we were trespassing.
“They keep most of them open twenty-four/seven during the summer,” he reassured me. “No hope of having an angry cop chase us down.”
“Again,” I added.
He laughed. “Again. Yeah, exactly.” His attention turned to focus on me. His eyes traced the line of my face and down, down, down, all the way to my flexed feet. He had this intensity about him. A way of studying me as if I were the only thing in the universe.
I cleared my throat to break the tension brewing between us. “I thought that I’d fallen in love with the city before, but at night, knowing I’m going to have to leave soon, it’s magical. I feel like it’s a piece of me.”
“Just think, if you’d never approached me at that party, we never would have gotten to this moment.”
“Well, if I’d never seen you writing in your notebook on a park bench, then I wouldn’t have approached you.”
“Ah, writing saved the day again.” He fondly patted the park bench. “It all started on a park bench in Paris.”
My stomach tightened. I loved it.
Both the night and the park bench.
It felt like a fairy tale.
Chapter 7
Penn brushed a strand of hair out of my face. “Feeling better?”
I nodded and slid back into my heels. “Much. I can survive the rest of the night now.”
“Good.” He helped me to my feet. “You up for another drink? I know a place nearby.”
“I’m in,” I said even though I could still feel the buzz from the wine. Lightweight.
We walked a few more blocks and ended up in front of another cream building. A line wrapped out the front door and around the corner. A red overhang said Candy Room in white script lettering. Penn bypassed the enormous line and walked straight for what I assumed was the bouncer at the front. I stared back at the line apologetically.
Penn spoke to the bouncer for a few seconds, and then we were whisked inside to a world I’d never even known existed. I’d been to house parties in Charleston. Amy had even snuck me into a local bar back home. It was the most lenient for underage drinking, and everyone would turn a blind eye as long as no one drove home. And sure, we’d had drinks since being in Paris but mostly artsy bars, which meant low classical music, live paintings, and deep hipster conversation.
Candy Room was nothing like these other places. It was chic, classy, sensual, and inviting. If I had to dream up a club, I couldn’t have even come close to the interior of this room. Red velvet blanketed the chairs and booths that lined the perimeter in an imitation of the Paris opera house. The bar mirrored an old-timey candy bar with drinks inspired by classic candies. The bartenders were dressed up as candy stripers. The dance floor was packed with people dancing to the DJ’s jams, and three elevated platforms had poles. A bachelorette party was swinging on one, and I was sure a professional was on the other. Everything was chaos and charm and corruption. I had never been more out of my element and more excited by the prospect.
“What’s your poison?” Penn spoke into my ear.
“Surprise me,” I told him to cover the fact that I had no clue what to order.
He pulled me through the crowd to the bar and ordered us both drinks. He got some dark amber whiskey concoction. My drink was called a strawberry macaron and tasted as if I were biting into the pastry. I groaned at the flavor. If all drinks tasted like this, then maybe I’d drink more. I downed the drink nearly as fast as Amy had earlier that evening.
“This is so good,” I said, stumbling forward into him.
“Whoa there,” he said. He gripped my hip and held me up. “That thing has, like, six shots in it. Be careful.”
I stared at the tiny glass and blinked. There was only a quarter left. “Whoops. It doesn’t even taste like alcohol.”
“That’s how it gets you.” His attention was trained on me. “You don’t drink often, do you?”
“Almost never,” I admitted.
He plucked the rest of the drink from my hand. “You don’t need to be drunk to have a good time.”
“I think it’s a little late for that.” I leaned into him and boldly ran my hand down the front of his suit. “We should dance.”
“And here I thought, you hated dancing.”
“Ballroom dancing,” I clarified. I sucked at that, but I had some experience shaking my ass on the dance floor. It was impossible to have Amy as a friend and not know how to shake it.
“By all means, love, lead the way.”
I reached for his hand and let the alcohol direct my steps through the pulsing crowd. I meandered until I found what I was looking for—an enormous open-air patio. I’d heard someone mention it on our way in. What better way to dance the night away than under the Parisian night sky?
The music was a sensual electric pop beat that thrummed through my veins. People pressed in on all sides, letting the beats fuel their hips. I swirled my own hips in an alluring fashion and then turned to face Penn’s awaiting body. I grabbed his suit lapels and tugged him closer to me. His hands slid into place on my sides, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. The way we’d been when ballroom dancing was sweet. Tempting but still sweet. This was way beyond that.
My gaze snagged on his, and our eyes stayed locked as our hips did all the speaking. His fingers traced down my body, over my hips, and then dug into my skin to pull me closer and closer until there was nothing between us. Just a breath between our lips. A span that felt like an eternity.
We’d shared that one kiss in front of the Eiffel Tower, and now, it felt as if I’d been waiting all night to get back to that moment. To taste him and the sin that he was offering. I was tipsy enough to do it, to lean forward and take what I wanted. And, still, I hesitated.
He must have seen the hesitation on my face. The desire that he elicited so plainly there. Like a window to every thought. He smirked in the most delectable way and then moved forward just an inch closer. His lips barely touched mine. His tongue slipped out to graze my bottom lip. I couldn’t control the moan that escaped me. Even over the drone of the music, he heard it.
“Fuck,” he groaned.
I nodded. That was exactly how I felt. My whole body was alive at his touch. That one almost kiss had set my nerves alive for what felt like the first time in my life. Was this why Amy was reckless with her heart? It had never felt this good to have someone touch me. I had never wanted it as much as I did now. It felt dangerous…and yet I liked the danger. I liked the unknown. I wanted more of it and more of him, and I didn’t want to think about anything else. I just wanted to enjoy myself and this one perfect night.
My thoughts focused on how to get us alone. How to escape the crowd to get those lips on me. How to enjoy my night to the fullest.
“Maybe we could…” I nodded my head at a back hallway.
His eyes swept to where I’d suggested and then widened. “Really?”