Chapter 25

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"So Skylar said she would be getting married soon and I was like 'well you proposed so getting married soon is pretty obvious' and then asked her how soon? And she said next year—"

Paris interrupted Chelsea's story. It had been a while since she called or texted Skylar so she was a bit lost on what was going on in her life. But all that could be answered by a call to Chelsea, fortunately, "Why next year?"

"I was getting to that! Don't interrupt me Paris." The frenchwoman just rolled her eyes and remained silence so her friend could continue. "So I asked her why and she said because she and Summer—"

"Never mind I don't want to know or hear about her." Paris once again cut off her friend.

"I don't understand why you hate Summer." Blake intervened from behind Chelsea, she was sitting on a couch with a magazine in hand.

"Because she loves to play the victim all the fucking time. It's fucking annoying."

"Oh come on Paris, she's our best friend's fiancée." Chelsea tried to act as a mediator for the sake of their friendship, knowing Skylar is not fond of the comments towards her girlfriend.

"I know! I'm not going to insult her, but it doesn't mean I have to tolerate her." Paris went from sitting on the loveseat to the barstool.

Blake could feel that the subject of the conversation was not getting pleasant, so she took the phone from her wife's hand —which made Chelsea complain and say something about her speaking time not being respected— ignored her Blake appeared on the screen and greeted the french again with a smile. "So, Paris when are you doing runaways again? It's been like what? Almost two years since your last?"

"I've actually been thinking about it... but I'm not sure if I'll go back to it just yet." Paris responded unsure. She had fought with her father before Christmas and they are yet to make any contact, so the modeling gig would be a nice option to maintain herself occupied now that she doesn't run errands for her dad—but their fights never last. She knows that he is bound to call her soon to ask for favors.

"I understand, no pressure. But if you are ever interested again, you know who to call." Blake offered kindly.

"Can I have my phone back now?" Chelsea asked with a huff.

"No. Where's my favorite niece!?" Paris asked for Elena. It's been not that long since she last saw the kid, but she misses her a lot already. She needs to visit them more often and call more often for the kid especially.

"She's at school you idiot, where else could she be at ten in the morning on a Thursday?" Chelsea now with her phone back, looked at her friend as if she was asking the dumbest thing ever.

"Well forgive me. I forgot I'm eight hours ahead of you." Paris said, she then took a peak from behind her phone to look at the kitchen—there stood Alessia making food for the two of them, she was wearing some of Paris's clothes and it took a lot of restrain to not get up and fuck her on the kitchen counter.

"Paris, Paris I'm talking to you!"

The frenchwoman shook her head once she became aware of the yells from her best friend through the phone. "Sorry what were you saying?"

"I was saying that I saw Riley the other day. Are you good?" Chelsea narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

"Yeah sorry, I just uh... got lost in my thoughts for a moment." Paris chuckled and diverted the attention back to what her friend just said. "You saw Riley? How was she?"

"Yeah, I ran across her at starbucks. She was... she said she was good, but if I had to be honest she looked completely miserable." Chelsea's words made Paris's chest constrict in pain for her, knowing Riley was still struggling and not getting any type of help or support. It weighed in her conscience as well—not because the french thought she was to blame, but because she knew Riley was alone and would not seek out for help, she would rather drown in her sorrow.

"What did you two talk about?"

"Not much, she's moved back to Los Angeles—but you already know that. She told me she's working with her mom and as far as I'm concerned she still doesn't talk to Summer nor Tyler. I haven't seen her there the times the group has hung out so that part is still speculation — but I did ask her to come over for dinner sometime, although I doubt she will come regardless of her appreciation for the invitation." Chelsea recalled the day, it had not been to long ago—almost a week if she wasn't wrong. It pained her as well to see her best friend's ex like that, having known Riley for the six years her and Paris dated — they weren't best friends by any means, but they were friends and Chelsea knew that the asian girl was not a bad person.

Troubled? Yes, but not bad.

"I'll talk to her, see how she is doing. When we last talked I told her I wouldn't leave her alone as a friend. I intend to keep that promise." Paris revealed to the brunette.

"I think that is very sweet and mature from your part Paris." Blake came into sight again, sitting besides her wife.

"I think the same." Chelsea agreed.

"Dinners ready, babe."  Alessia called out as she put the plate in front of her on the stool.

"Babe?" Chelsea repeated—eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Would you look at that! I gotta go, talk to you another time. Bye!"

"Paris don't you dare—" Chelsea didn't get a chance to finish the sentence as Paris hung up on her.

Alessia seemed amused as she stood in front of Paris—food ready on the counter. "Why did you hang up?" The blonde questioned.

"Chelsea will ask about a million and more questions about us. And right now I rather eat and spend time with you than to answer her." Paris looked up at her from her sit.

They had spent the last two days together, never leaving the house and barely leaving the bed as well. Paris was sure she was addicted to the touch of Alessia by now—and she wasn't complaining. This was the happiest she has been in a long while, and she will do everything in her power for it to stay like this. Alessia, them, was something Paris would never dare destroy — she's adamant on it.

"Well... I made crepes." Alessia smiled proudly at her dish and the frenchwoman thought it was the most adorable sight ever.

Grabbing her by the waist, Paris sat Alessia on her lap, "They look amazing."

"Aye, you only had nutella on your dispense. So it'll have to do." Alessia said, she began talking about how the frenchwoman needed to buy real food instead of living off delivery food. But Paris was too entrance by her beauty that she tuned out most of the words, she could only see her beautiful lips move.

"Be my girlfriend." Paris blurted out softly as she put a strand of hair behind Alessia's ear. Was it a little too soon? Probably, but Paris was over wasting time and dancing around it. She wanted Alessia.

The Scot stopped talking the moment the words left Paris's mouth. Not knowing if she had heard her right, "Your girlfriend?" She repeated.

"Will you?"

"I don't know, you did say something about a date..." Alessia put a finger on her chin in thought.

"Name the place, name the country and I swear I will take you there right this moment." The seriousness behind Paris's words made Alessia believe she was not bluffing around about it—and knowing her, she will most definitely get her on her private plane to across the world if she wished so.

That made Alessia's heart flutter. That someone wanted to give her the world basically.

"I am where I want to be." Alessia grabbed Paris's face in a firm grip and kissed her rather harshly, dragging her bottom lip. "Yes, I will be your girlfriend."

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A/N - The end of Paris's part is coming one more chapter! Then starts Riley's story in the same book.

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