Not A Temporary Love | Finley & Harlyn #1

Chapter 26

Harlyn

I check my phone for the three thousandth time. But my string of texts to Elly are still unanswered. I was hoping that she'd change her mind last minute and still want to come to Paris with us. Instead, we'll be scraping by with the combined French knowledge of the three of us. I'll be drawing on all of my sixth form French. It's been two years since I took any sort of foreign language. But I'm at least able to read street signs and the names of restaurants. If we're in a pinch, I could get by. I'm pretty sure Max only knows how to count to ten because of Hamilton. And I'm not sure if Finley knows any. It'll be...interesting.

I shove my phone back in my pocket and shoot a glance at Max to make sure he didn't see me checking my phone again. But he's nodding off on the bench next to me.

"Hey!" Finley's voice echoes in the deserted train station, and I turn to see him hurrying toward us with his backpack slung over his shoulder. His hair just keeps getting longer, and he's resorted to doing the boyband flip to keep it out of his eyes. I really need to take him to get a cut.

"Sup," Max greets, blinking sleepily.

"Hi," I say, and I can't help but smile, even though there's a weight in my stomach. He stoops to kiss me, and I'm so shocked I don't even kiss him back. He's never kissed me in public. Well, this isn't really public. There are only two other people on the platform now.

Finley stands straight and freezes. "Sorry. I just...I didn't think..."

"It's ok," I squeak. "Just surprised me."

He nods curtly and turns to Max. "Little sleepy there, Max?"

"It's five am. Of course I'm tired," Max grumbles, sliding over to lay his head on my shoulder.

Finley sits next to me laughing. "You're right. My bad."

We wait in silence for the train. And we're silent as we change trains and get on the Eurostar, the sun finally rising slowly. Max is asleep most of the time. Finley just keeps staring out the window unblinking. I want to ask him what's wrong, but I know the answer. He's thinking about his parents. It's been two days. He hasn't talked about it since. He's been all about this trip, planning and packing and working on his papers so he's not worried about them while we're gone. I tried to gently remind him that he literally has a month until most of the papers are due. But he insisted on at least starting the planning for them.

I stare at his eyes, blank as he stares out the window. We're in the Chunnel now, so there's nothing to look at but darkness. He's thinking too hard. Out of habit, I look around to make sure no one is watching before moving around the table to sit next to him. He doesn't react. I don't think he even realizes I'm there until I take his hand. He jumps about three feet in the air and whips around so fast I think he might hurt himself.

"Hey," I whisper. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

He shakes his head and smiles, stealing a glance around us. "It's ok. Just surprised me."

"You surprised me earlier. We're even," I mutter, leaning forward to plant a kiss on his temple. "And don't worry. I think we can, like, hold hands and kiss on this trip." It crossed my mind the other day, and I thought about it again when he kissed me at the train station. We're a bit more free in Paris. I'm not worried about being seen by someone I know. I'm not worried about my parents finding out before I tell them. And I'm getting more and more comfortable with all of this.

"Are you...sure?" he asks, hope blooming in his eyes.

I nod. "Yeah. I'm sure." I take a deep breath. "It's still going to take getting used to. But we're going to be together 24/7 for the next four days. I will not be able to contain myself in Paris - the literal city of love. I want to be able to hug you and kiss you. If...that's ok."