Illicit ✔

twenty-two

♫ But baby there you go again, there you go again, making me love you
Yeah I stopped using my head, using my head, let it all go ♪
(Maroon 5—One More Night)

Several times throughout the next day, Coralie pinched herself.

Once when she woke in Ryan's embrace, his scruffy chin scratching against her temple.

Another time when she drank coffee in her plush robe, staring out at the street below.

And once more as the car dropped them off at their destination for the day—the Place de la Concorde.

This trip to Paris was a fairy-tale, a fantasy come true. She struggled not to imagine the smog-ridden city of San Francisco awaiting her once her carriage became a pumpkin and her handsome prince returned to his normal life without her.

Yet she stuffed those images to the back of her mind as they strolled hand-in-hand towards the Champs-Élysées. They started at the very beginning, which was Place de la Concorde, where they were empty-handed but for iced-coffees and a bag of croissants they shared while admiring the Arc de Triomphe from afar.

They meandered past vast green parks with joggers getting a whiff of the morning air, couples walking their dogs, distracted employees hurrying to their workplaces while juggling phones and briefcases.

When they passed the Grand Palais, a phenomenal building that sprawled out for what seemed like miles, Ryan promised to take her there next time.

Next time? He's implying this will happen again?

The giant museum, exhibition hall, and historic site took Coralie's breath away as they continued towards the area of the avenue she most anticipated—the shops.

When they arrived at the busier section, traffic had picked up—whether it be the compact cars on the wide road, or the tourists cramping the massive sidewalk. Coralie couldn't figure out where to look. Ahead, at the Arc de Triomphe? Or at the curious onlookers sitting at cafés with plates of pastries? Or at the shop vitrines with mannequins wearing exquisite clothes she wouldn't dare try on?

Upon seeing her eyes bulge at one store—Zara, a staple from her childhood—Ryan insisted they go inside.

"Are you kidding? That place is insanely expensive!" Her jaw dropped as they entered the enormous space, and she sighted a dress the likes of which she'd never even dream of wearing. "It's not what it used to be when we were kids!"

"Are you kidding? Zara is nothing compared to some of the places farther down the boulevard. It's not that bad. Hey," he gestured at the dress she'd been fixed on, "you want to try that on?"

Her throat dried as she approached the mannequin and reached out to touch the dress. Its silky feel reminded her of a sexy set of lingerie, and its ruby red color drew her attention away from any other outfit in the vicinity. It was a style she'd hoped one day to wear, but she worried it wouldn't flatter her slightly curvy figure.