Delicate

Chapter 18

HAVEN MCQUEEN

"It's cold out, I promise you don't wanna go," Harry grunts as he reaches out from the bed to grab my hand and yank me back in until I fall on the mattress.

"Hey!" I all but scream at the top of my lungs as he moves to climb on top of me, still in his briefs with a messy bedhead, and now I can't stop laughing as he nuzzles his face into my neck with his arms fully around me.

"Just stay," he laughs too. "Let's sleep longer."

"We're only here for the day and I wanna go to a Parisian cafe," I gently scratch my nails on the back of his neck.

"We'll be back in March," he reminds me.

"Yeah, but it'll be muggy and rainy then," I wiggle my way out from under his grip. "It's a nice day to get out."

He gives me a look for that, seeing as we both know he can't really get out. Well, he could, but he'd be bombarded by fans and we certainly can't go out with just the two of us. Besides, he'll need to be heading to the venue to soundcheck with the band soon enough.

"I wish I could go with you," he mumbles as he sits up and watches me shove my feet into my boots.

"Me too," I slip my oversized leather jacket on and cross the room to kiss him twice. "At least we'll have tonight, right?"

He nods, eyeing my lips until I kiss him again. "Be safe."

"I will," I secure my headphones in my ears as I leave him in the room and make my way out of the grand hotel. It's the most beautiful one we've stayed in so far in my opinion, but I guess that's because everything in Paris is beautiful. Everything in Europe is beautiful, I should say. The architecture is certainly more interesting than what we have in the States, I know that much.

The cafe that I had mapped is only a block down from the hotel, which makes me feel better about going alone once I step outside. France, like Italy, is another place I've visited quite often due to my job in the fashion industry, but I was always with friends and colleagues for the entire trip. I've never been alone the way I am now but my dad didn't raise an idiot; I'm still plenty aware of my surroundings with my music playing lowly in my ears, which is how I hear my name being called from behind me.

I turn to see Sarah in a brown leather bomber jacket waving at me. Pleasantly surprised, I take out one headphone and stop to let her catch up to me. "Hey, sorry."

"No, it's alright," she speaks in her soft and sweet British accent. "Are you going to get coffee?"

"I am, yeah," I point with my thumb in the direction of the shop. "Are you?"

"Yeah," she nods with a sniffle as the cold breeze picks up. "Mind if I come with you?"

"Of course," I gesture for her to follow me. "I'd be happier not to go alone."

"Me too," she chuckles. "Mitch didn't want to come."

Sarah and I haven't spent much time together since the beginning of the tour, but I haven't spent much time with anyone but Harry and Jeff. It's not that I haven't wanted to hang out with them, I just sort of felt like they had their own thing going on as a band–like a nicer version of a clique. So now I'm wondering if I'd be stepping out of line to ask her about Mitch after Harry hinted that they might have a thing together, but what else are we going to talk about?

"Are you and Mitch, like..."

"Oh," her ivory cheeks flush the instant the question leaves my mouth. "I guess...kind of. We're still sort of figuring it out...a bit."