Lily
France. Holy freaking France. Real baguette-smelling, cobblestone-street France.
Oh yeah we didn’t use the boat. Since it took people to their various places. We took a plane instead.
You’re trembling, my wolf whispered, lazy and smug. He hasn’t even touched you yet and you’re trembling.
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.
My bra strap slid down my arm again and I yanked it up while trying to keep up with Connor’s impossible stride.
Bella rolled her eyes like she’d been assigned the role of long-suffering chaperone from hell.
“Oh my God, stop staring at everything,” Bella hissed. “You look like a tourist on her first field trip.”
“I am on my first field trip,” I whispered back before my brain could stop me. “And it’s France. Sorry if my eyeballs are excited.”
She clicked her tongue.
