Chapter 24

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WARNING: The first section of this chapter includes an intimate moment between Jake and Lilah. It's not graphic, per se. But don't read it if you're not old enough.

~*~*~*~

It's the night before Jake and Simone leave for France. It would be a great understatement to say that I'm not looking forward to tomorrow. It goes beyond the fact that I'll miss Jake. I can't help the feeling of dread that has built up within me when I think about what could happen. I wouldn't put it past Simone to try to draw Jake further into her drama with Etienne. I've seen her do that before, and I've also witnessed what it does to Jake.

I still remember sitting by his side when he told me about all those nights, years ago, when Simone would call him to complain about Etienne's family; how she would talk about how desperate she was to come home. It killed him to even think that she would even consider getting back together with Etienne. But what hurt him worse was the fact that she not only denied ever making those phone calls, but that she had said something that made him feel like he meant nothing to her; like he was a burden who was preventing her from having "a real life." Simone's careless words crushed Jake's spirit that night.

Still, he seems to be looking forward to going to France. He says that he was there once before, back when Simone and Etienne got married. But back then, he didn't venture beyond Etienne's family estate. He has talked nonstop about all of the pictures he's going to take and the places he's going to see, assuring me that he's going to stay true to his promise to enjoy himself. The only thing I can do is trust that he'll do his best.

I walk up the sixteen steps that lead to his apartment, announcing myself before I step inside. "Hey. I brought that backpack," I tell him.

Jake, who is in the middle of packing, turns to face me. "Thanks. Just leave it on the couch."

I do as I'm told, setting my purse down next to it, and walk over to the end of his bed. "How's the packing going?" I ask, sitting down on the side close to the window.

He stuffs some more clothing into his extra-large duffel bag. "Great. I'm almost finished. Just need to pack my carry-on, and I should be set."

"You have your passport?"

He reaches over to the side table and holds it up. "Right here with my ticket. Just wish the picture didn't make me look like a serial killer."

"What? Let me see." Jake hands the passport to me and I open it up, laughing when I see his photo. "Well, it would help if you'd smile."

"I hate having my picture taken," he complains, adding more items to his bag. "I belong behind the camera, not in front of it."

"Whatever you say." I hand the passport back to Jake, who puts it in the side pocket of the backpack. "So, what time is your flight?"

"Ten a.m. Simone wants us to be there at least two hours early. Means I'll practically be comatose tomorrow." He finishes packing the duffel and sets it down on the sofa, moving on to the backpack. As he packs the items he'll need for the flight, he says "You're going to see me off. Right?"

"Of course." As I get up from the bed, I swallow the lump in my throat that forms. "I'd better get going."

Jake finishes packing his carry-on in a hurry, setting it down by the sofa. "Where do you think you're going?" He reaches out to grab me, arms encircling my waist.

I let out a yelp when I suddenly end up on the bed, laughing a little as he crawls on top of me. "Jake, you need some sleep."

"I'll sleep on the plane," he says, pushing my shirt up so he can have access to my stomach. I can feel his breath on me as he says "I'll be gone for two weeks, and I want a proper send-off," just before he kisses his way across the skin just above the waistband of my jeans.

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