Closed. Plenty of time to see it later, remember?" He leads me into the courtyard, and I take the opportunity to admire his backside. Callipygian. There is something better than Notre-Dame.

If I weren't standing next to your boyfriend, I'd be tempted to ask you out myself."She blushes, and St. Clair bounds inside the box office and wrestles her into a hug. "Miiiiiiiiine!" he says."Cut it out." Anna pushes him off, laughing. "You'll get fired. And then I'll have to support your sorry arse for the rest of our lives.

Welcome to Paris, Anna. I'm glad you've come.

Phones are distracting. The internet is distracting.The way he looked at you? He wasn't distracted. He was consumed.

So why did he do it?"Cricket rakes a hand through his hair. "For the same reason everyone makes mistakes. He fell in love.

So why did he do it?"Cricket rakes a hand through his hair. "For the same reason everyone makes mistake. He fell in love.

I pull back, gasping for breath. Reeling. His breath is ragged, and I place my hands on his cheeks to steady him. "Is this okay?" I whisper. "Are you okay?"His reply is anguished. Honest. "I love you.

I said you were beautiful. I slept in your bed!

I bought you love poetry! 'I love you as certain dark things are loved, secretly, between the shadow and the soul.'" I blink at him. "Neruda. I starred the passage. God," he moans. "Why didn't you open it?