#poh

When you didn’t hear anything from Stanley after your tragic blind date, you figured that it was the beginning and the end of his scheming. You didn’t expect that he would know where you were staying in Paris with Joe, or that he would cancel your room so the two of you would have to share. You definitely didn’t anticipate him sending Mark out to the same hotel just to spook you. It made your skin crawl knowing it was so easy for him to access your information. 

Not agreeing to a second date definitely didn’t deserve this level of torment. 

You rubbed at your eyes before reaching for your phone, switching the alarm off so you could have a few more moments of peace with your eyes closed. It might not have been proper sleep, but after running on fumes for the last week, you just wanted to rest your eyes for a little bit longer. 

The only time you’d gotten proper rest was when your head was on Joe’s shoulder during the flight to Paris. You groaned at the realization that your feelings for him were morphing and growing into something bigger than you could control. 

It felt useless trying to fight your feelings when your body was screaming for you to run towards him, to give in. 

“You’re thinking way too loud.” 

Joe’s voice came from the floor next to you, hoarse and soft after his nap. You furrowed your brows in confusion before pushing up on your elbows to look down at him with furrowed brows. 

“We still have ten minutes.”  He muttered.

“Jesus! I thought you were in the bedroom, Joe!” You shot up, looking down at him on the floor between the couch and the sofa. “Why are you on the floor?”

“If you’re not going to sleep in the bed, then I’m not going to sleep in the bed.” He didn’t open his eyes, exhaling heavily through his nose. “Now, go back to sleep.”

“I barely slept during my nap.” You rolled your eyes. “I snoozed the alarm so I could sit here for a few more minutes and contemplate how I’m going to get my revenge on Stanley for this.” 

“Come up with anything good?” Joe cracked open one eye, looking up at you as the corners of his mouth twitched. 

“Other than ruining his credit and calling his Mother, not really.” You hummed out, flinging the cover off of your legs before standing up and stretching. “You have dinner with the guys in two hours.” 

Joe grumbled, reaching out to grab your ankle. 

He brushed his thumb over your ankle bone, moving in soothing circles. 

“Didn’t Mark ruin the reservation?” Joe asked around a yawn. “Just lie back down, we’ll order room service in a little bit.” 

“I’m offended that you assume I don’t have a back up plan.” You rolled your eyes, crouching down to pinch the tip of Joe’s nose teasingly. “You’re going to dinner, and I won’t hear another word about it.” 

Joe swatted your hand away with a groan. 

You made your way over to your suitcase in the corner of the small living room, laughing softly as he dramatically rolled around on the floor behind you. 

“You’re so bossy.” He sat up, brushing his hands through his hair. “When did you get so bossy?” 

“I’ve always been this way, Joe. I just used to make you think my ideas were your own so you didn’t fight me as much.” You shrugged, sifting through your things until you found the outfit you planned for the evening. “I’ll be finished up in about twenty minutes, but you should make yourself a coffee and start thinking about what you want to wear for dinner tonight.”

“You didn’t pick an outfit for me?” Both of his brows lifted in surprise as you walked past him towards the bathroom. “Wait-”

The bathroom door shut with a click, and you bit your bottom lip to hold back a laugh. 

While Joe was out with his friends enjoying dinner with a view of the Eiffel Tower, you would be running around Paris making sure he had all of the outfits that were planned for him to wear during fashion week. Louis Vuitton sent several outfits to New York weeks ago for a final fitting, but they were sent back to Paris to be officially tailored and pressed by the team shortly after. It was your job to make sure those outfits made it back to the hotel from the tailor before fashion week officially kicked off. 

They had set aside a few things for you to wear as well, just some accessories and little pieces to compliment Joe’s looks. You were adamant about keeping your wardrobe neutral and complimentary to his outfits.

Your outfits were simple enough that they wouldn’t pull attention from Joe, but they were still perfectly styled. You didn’t know that much about the fashion world, but you knew enough of the basics to get by. 

You fixed up your hair, getting it out of your face and off of your neck for the evening. Your face was bare, wearing only a heavier moisturizer to combat the cold winter air of Paris and to give your skin a chance to recover from the dry airplane air.

Your outfit came next, a simple black turtleneck sweater partially tucked into a pair of high waist, bootleg jeans. You accessorized with a simple belt, a pair of thick socks, and a pair of boots to keep the snow and rain from soaking through to your feet. 

When you stepped out of the bathroom, you were still messing about, carefully putting on one of your earrings while Joe tried to work the espresso machine in the small kitchenette. He stared down at the portafilter in his hand, shaking it gently and mumbling to himself as you walked up and bumped his hip with a roll of your eyes. 

If you didn’t help him, you’d end up with watery coffee and chunks of grounds in the bottom of your cup.

“Let me help.” You said, reaching back to hand him a necklace that you hadn’t finished putting on. “Can you-”

“Yeah, I’ve got you.” He took the necklace while you worked the machine, pressing the portafilter into its designated slot before pressing a few buttons. “You look beautiful, by the way.” 

“Uh, thanks.” Your cheeks started to heat up at his compliment as you continued to start the machine. 

It was unfair how quickly your body reacted to his words, your heart rate kicking up a notch and your palms sweating. A simple compliment shouldn’t have you feeling this way.

His fingers worked quickly, securing the clasp on your necklace before he brushed the knuckle of his pointer finger over the back of your neck, soothing the skin there with a soft hum. He rested his hands on your shoulders momentarily before pulling back. 

“Thank you.” You whispered, glancing back at him over your shoulder with a shy smile. 

You reached up to adjust the singular pearl hanging from a thin gold chain until it was centered. It was a graduation gift from your father, one that you wore every single day. It belonged to his mother and her mother years and years ago. Family might have been a complicated subject for you, but you still felt honored to receive the necklace. You hardly ever took it off except during travel days and when you worked out. 

“Anytime.”  His voice was still a little hoarse as he whispered. He was hovering so close to you that the heat of his body radiated against your back. “So, are you going to dinner with me?”

“No.” You shook your head, turning your attention back to your coffee. “I have a few errands to run before the week officially kicks off.” 

He hummed, shifting closer to you like a magnet. 

“Cancel the dinner.” He said softly. “I can run errands with you.” 

“You can’t do that.” You swallowed, squeezing your eyes shut. “We’re creating distance, remember? Poppy said that distance was good for us right now.” 

“I don’t think it matters anymore.” He chuckled. 

You felt his hands hovering by your hips like he wanted to pull you closer. 

“It does matter.” You decided to turn around yourself, tilting your chin up to look at him. “This week is a big milestone for you, Joe. We don’t need to think about Stanley, or tour obligations, or whatever else is happening. Nothing besides this should matter this week.”

He paused, eyes trailing over your face until they landed on your lips. 

He wasn’t even subtle about it, his eyes glued to your lips. 

“When you say this-”

“I mean fashion week.” You clarified with an eyeroll, the tension between the two of you easing slightly. “This week is about celebrating you, Joe. I mean it’s definitely about fashion for other people, but I think we should be celebrating you for this amazing opportunity you worked for.” 

He finally brought his eyes back up to yours. 

“Okay.” He said softly, moving a little closer, his feet brushing against the toe of your boots. “I’ll guess I’ll try to behave while we’re here.” 

Your breath hitched in your throat as he leaned closer, the tip of his nose almost brushing against yours. 

But just like that he pulled away with a smirk, espresso shot in his hand. 

You inhaled sharply, spinning around to hide the annoyance on your face as he chuckled at your frustration. 

“I’ll try to behave on one condition, Ace.” His voice was trailing away as you began to prepare your own shot of espresso. “Instead of dinner with everyone, I’m going to have drinks with them, and then I’ll meet you somewhere after you’ve finished your errands. We’ll have dinner together, very platonically, professionally if that’s what you want.” 

“Professional my ass.” You muttered, reaching for the small ceramic cup. “You seem to have forgotten what that word means.” 

“What?” Joe called out. “I couldn’t hear you, baby.” 

“Joseph.” You spun around, groaning out his name as he continued to laugh from the bedroom. “Fine, we’ll have dinner.” 

“Thank you.” He sang back, clearly amused with himself. “It’s a date.”

Minutes later, as you were finishing up your espresso, he walked out of the bedroom. 

It took you a second to look up from your emails, but when you did, you dropped your phone down to the small kitchen table. Joe’s head snapped up as you scrambled for it, shifting your eyes to look at anything but his bare chest.

Never in your life did you think that you’d find chest hair attractive, but for some reason Joe’s chest hair had your stomach flipping. His cheeks turned pink, but he was still smug knowing that he had this kind of effect on you.

He held up two sweaters, one navy and one grey. 

“What are your thoughts?” He asked, glancing down at the two. “I’m thinking I should layer, right? It’s cold out tonight, so maybe I put on a button up too?” 

“Yeah, layering is a good idea.” You nodded, clearing your throat again. “Um, maybe go with the grey cashmere pullover with that button up, it’ll look nice with your pants.” 

You did your best to keep your eyes on his, but you couldn’t help yourself when they trailed their way down to the black slacks that hugged his hips perfectly. The soft pouch of his stomach was hidden away behind the waistband, but his happy trail was still visible and still very much attractive. Your eyes were stuck, tracing the soft freckles on his skin as he said your name a few times. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, tilting his head to the side when you finally looked back up. 

“All good.” You cleared your throat, reaching for your espresso. “Go put some clothes on.” 

Joe bit back a laugh, walking back into the bedroom as you groaned. 

If you thought looking over his chest hair and happy trail was bad, looking at the broad expanse of his back without a shirt was enough to kill you. The moles and freckles dotted along his skin like constellations had your thighs tightening, your heart beating harder in your chest.

What you would give to trace your fingers over each little mark, connecting the dots. 

It was suddenly too warm, your turtleneck tighter around your throat as your imagination started to run away from you. You needed to get out of the room before you lost your control and ended up doing something insane like undoing his slacks and pushing him onto the bed. You pushed up from your seat with a quick shake of your head, looking for your jacket as Joe walked back into the living room, tossing a tie around his neck with a frown. 

“The tie is a nice touch.” You mumbled, walking past him towards your suitcase in search of your jacket. “It's a little formal, but I like it.”

You knew he only put it on so you’d fix it for him. 

He could never get it quite right without your help.

“Thank you.” He blushed, his voice soft. “Can you-”

“Yeah.” You mumbled, reaching up to fiddle with the fabric. 

“What perfume are you wearing?” Joe leaned closer, inhaling with a smile. “Is that the one that matches my cologne?” 

“No.” 

It was, but he didn’t need to know that. 

You picked up the scent the last time you grabbed him a tin of his favorite cologne, the clerk selling you on it by telling you it had the same notes as his, just slightly sweeter. 

You would never admit that you bought it because you craved the smell of him. 

“Smells an awful lot like me.” He muttered with a smug smile. “I like it on you.” 

“Your tie is fixed.” You stepped back, trying to ground yourself by rubbing your hands along your jeans. “I’m gonna head out now, I’ve wasted enough time today.” 

“Don’t leave without me.” His eyes got wide, and he turned on his heel, rushing towards the bedroom. “I’ll walk you down!” 

“Joe, I can walk down on my own.” You sighed, shrugging on your coat before you reached for your purse. “Just take your time, I’ll book you a car.”

“Wait for me.” His voice was muffled. “I’m so serious, Ace, don't leave without me!” 

You heard a thunk, Joe cursing as he rushed back out. 

“I just need to brush my teeth.” He squeezed your hip as he walked past you, neither of his boots zipped up as he stumbled along. “Is my hair okay?” 

“It looks great.” You grabbed your purse, tucking your phone into it. “Joe, you don’t-”

“What if you run into Mark again?” He poked his head out, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and his brows lifted. “Just give me two more minutes.” 

When Joe was done running back and forth between the bedroom and bathroom, his boots finally zipped, you held his jacket out for him. 

“Your wallet is in the inside pocket.” You said as he shrugged it on. “You’re going to Francette, I already called a car to pick you up in ten minutes.” 

“Right.” He reached over, pulling your purse up on your shoulder after it slipped. “Let’s go.” 

He opened the hotel door, waiting for you to cross over the threshold before stepping out behind you. Joe pressed the button for the elevator, settling into his usual spot right next to you. He started to hum under his breath, a familiar song of his that you couldn’t quite place. 

“Are you humming your own song right now?” You glanced over your shoulder, a smile tugging at your lips as he flashed you his teeth. 

“It seemed fitting for the moment.” He shrugged, nodding his head towards the elevator as the door opened. “C’mon, don’t want to be late.” 

You pressed the button for the ground floor, shuffling in as Joe stood behind you like a bodyguard, his hand coming to rest on your hip like it had before. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you turned back to look at him, trying your best to scold him with your expression. 

He was too busy smiling like he’d just won the lottery. 

So much for trying to behave. 

“Hold the elevator!” Your head snapped forward at the familiar voice echoing down the hall and into the elevator cab. “Just one second!”

You pressed the close door button several times, but she was faster. 

Joe’s fingers tightened around your hip, subtly pulling you just a bit closer. You weren’t sure if he was trying to hold you in place or keep himself grounded.  

A mess of vintage Chanel clothing and the perfect blonde curls slipped in, an exasperated sigh coming from her as she settled on the other side of the elevator cab, running her hands through her hair. 

“Thank you.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, turning towards the two of you with a bright smile. “Oh.” 

Joe shifted on his feet behind, keeping his eyes forward to avoid making eye contact with the woman who broke his heart years ago. 

You couldn’t look away, brows furrowed and lip curled up in disgust. 

“Oh, this is awkward.” She dropped her smile, clearing her throat. “I’m sorry, if I had known-”

“It’s okay.” Joe cleared his throat, still looking ahead.

“It’s not.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “You should have waited for the next one.” 

“It’s not like I knew he’d be here.” She muttered, rolling her eyes before sneering at you. “Always playing the bodyguard, huh? I’m here for fashion week, just like everyone else.”

Something in your stomach twisted. 

You wouldn’t put it past Stanley to loop Anna in on his crazy revenge plan, and you knew she’d never pass up the chance to hurt or embarrass Joe.

Maybe you were being paranoid, but your gut was telling you otherwise. 

She never came to events like this before, and you could recall several arguments about her ditching Joe during very important moments in his career because she thought being an actor and a musician was frivolous and a waste of time. As an heiress to some insanely wealthy man in France, she expected Joe to live a life of leisure with her. 

You’d met plenty of people during your time with Joe that had famous and wealthy parents, but none of them ever acted the way Anna did. It was like she was the queen of the world, and everyone else was simply beneath her. 

“I can’t believe I ever thought you were just his employee.” Her laugh was void of amusement, her curls shaking as she tilted her head back. “God, you really had me convinced when you told me she was just your assistant. I don’t recall ever wanting to fuck my assistant, but I guess I know better than to fornicate with trash.” 

“You know what, not today.” You dropped your arms, turning to face her. “We both know that Joe and I have always had a strictly professional relationship, nothing more.” 

Maybe that wasn’t the case now, but during his relationship with her, you were nothing more than his employee.

Joe pulled you back, fingers hooked into your belt loop with a heavy sigh.

“You think I’m stupid, don’t you?” She snorted. “Sweetheart, someone in this elevator is dumb, and it isn’t me.” 

“Shut up, Anna.” Joe shot her a cold look. “Just shut up.” 

“No, I refuse to be the bad guy.” She screeched, pointing her finger at him. “You’re a hypocrite for hating me because I cheated on you, Joe. You never gave me the attention that I deserved because of her! Gabe saved me from you.” 

Joe tightened his grip on your belt loop, pulling you beside him so that he was standing between the two of you. 

“You’re a bitch.” You turned again, fighting against his hold but Joe held his arm up to block you from moving. “Worrying about someone and cheating on your significant other with their friend is not the same thing, Anna, and you’re delusional if you think you should be let off the hook because of a rumor you heard from a dipshit like Stanley Rowland.” 

“Everyone just stop talking.” Joe’s voice echoed in the small elevator cab, a little more bass behind it than before. “Anna, what happened between us was over years ago, and I really don’t care what you think. I know how things ended, and my feelings are valid. I gave you everything I had, and you treated me like I was some sort of pathetic lap dog that you rescued off the street. And you can put aside the cheating if you want, fine, but you were a terrible partner and I never deserved to be treated so poorly.” 

“I still think you were lying to me.” Anna said, her tone nonchalant, like she was bored of the argument that she was clearly losing. “I mean look at you Joe, you can’t keep your hands off of her.” 

“Trust me, that’s for your sake.” He muttered as the elevator doors opened up. “Have a good time at fashion week, Anna.” 

Joe reached for your hand, pulling you out into the lobby without glancing back. 

“She’s insufferable.” You seethed, following behind him as he led you down a small hallway towards the lobby bathrooms. “I mean the nerve of her to accuse you of cheating when she slept with-”

“I know, Ace.” He glanced over his shoulder, face morphing into something softer as he looked at you. “Hey, it’s okay.” 

He stopped in a corner, one close to the service elevator that only staff members had access to. 

Your hands were shaking, tears welling up on your waterline as you tried to catch your breath. Joe lifted his hands to your face, brushing away a tear. 

“I guarantee Stanley is behind this.” You whispered. “I just don’t understand why he’s doing this, Joe. I mean it can’t be that serious!”  

“I know, angel.” He whispered, sliding one hand down to your neck to brush his thumb softly over your jaw while the other one brushed away another tear from the apple of your cheek. “I wish I knew, truly, but I need you to just take a deep breath for me. Forget about Stanley right now and just breathe.”

“You’re going to miss your car.” You sniffled, sliding your hands under his jacket before resting them on his sides. “It’s going to be here any second.” 

“Fuck the car.” He let out a soft chuckle, pressing a kiss to your hairline before pulling you into a tight hug. “Just want to make sure my favorite girl is okay.” 

The two of you stood in the corner for a moment, your ear pressed against his chest and your arms looped around him like he was a big teddy bear. You listened to the beating of his heart, doing your best to control your breathing as he swayed you both. 

“I’m not doing a good job at behaving right now.” He teased. “Neither are you, angel.” 

“Shut up.” You muttered into his chest, biting back a smile. “Thank you, Joe.” 

“For what?” He asked, tilting his chin down to get a better look at you as he rubbed his palm over your back. “For keeping you from turning the elevator into a boxing ring or for misbehaving?” 

“Both.” You let out a soft giggle, shaking your head. 

“You know, you’re hot when you’re jealous.” He teased, lowering his face until the tip of his nose brushed over yours. “It feels good to know you have my back.”

“I’m not jealous.” Your eyes locked on his. “I just think she should understand there are consequences to her actions and the world doesn’t revolve-”

“Shh.” He pressed his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down before settling against your chin. “I don’t want to think about her anymore.”

“Okay.” You breathed out, nodding as if he’d put you in some sort of haze with the deep husk of his voice. “Yeah, we don’t have to think about her.” 

“Good.” He nodded, lips faltering from a smile to a frown again. 

“What?” You asked. 

“I don’t want to go.” He said, pulling away from you until his hands were resting on his hips. You frowned at the loss of his touch. “I’d rather hang out with you in our room.” 

“Your friends miss you.” You reminded him, crossing your arms over your chest to keep yourself from wrapping around him again. “They were practically begging me to make reservations just so they could see you for a bit.”

He let out a groan, dropping his head back. 

“God, I shouldn’t be such a good friend.” He joked, tossing his hands up. “Fine, I’ll go! I’ll have drinks with my friends, but just know I would rather be with you on that shitty little couch, watching a movie and eating some ridiculously expensive desert from the room service menu.” 

“I know.” You laughed, holding your hand out towards him. “C’mon, you're gonna miss your car.” 

It took another ten minutes to actually convince Joe to get into the car without you, the driver impatient as he held open the door. Joe insisted that you at least ride with him and take the car to your next location so you weren’t walking around the streets of Paris alone.

You reminded him that you were an adult, and that you were very well versed in the art of self defense after taking many, many lessons when you moved to New York. 

He argued that it was different, that New York was safer because it was your home, but you just rolled your eyes and shut the door before thanking the driver. You waved at him, waiting for the car to disappear from your sight before you made your way towards the closest metro station. You were lucky that it was only half a mile from the hotel. 

By the time you made it to your first stop, you felt a little lighter. 

Sure, it was weird that Joe wasn’t velcroed to your side like he had been for the last few days, but you finally felt like you had a chance to breathe and process everything. 

Your first few stops were important, tying up the loose ends with Louis Vuitton and picking up Joe’s looks from them. You spoke with one of their lead staff members, working out details for the dinner they were hosting towards the end of the week. She was kind enough to sneak in an extra look for you, a beautiful A-Line dress that she informed you was designed with a nod to medieval theatrical romance.

It was a beautiful golden brown, embellished with florals that you could imagine on a tapestry in a museum. When you told her you didn’t have shoes to wear with it, she snuck in a pair of boots to match.

After the important errands were done, you spent a few hours going between stores, picking up little things here and there for both you and Joe. He’d run out of his favorite cologne, one that he carried around in a solid travel tin that was only sold here in Paris.

You smirked when you reached for the sister perfume to his cologne, the scent just a little lighter and sweeter than his normal earthy fig smell. You snagged a few souvenirs for his sisters and parents before making your way toward the restaurant.

As your heels clicked along the pavement, your phone began to ring in your hand. 

You answered it without looking down at the caller ID, thinking it might be Joe. 

“You’re going to give me gray hair.” Poppy’s voice came over the receiver, thick with sleep and playful anger. “Why don’t you just put me out of my misery and just date him already.” 

“Joe?” You scoffed, shaking your head. “No, we would kill each other.” 

“That man is smitten.” She groaned. “I don’t know how you don’t see it.” 

“Becuase he’s not smitten, and I don’t like him like that.” You rolled your eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be against us dating?” 

“I could care less about that.” She exclaimed. “I’m more pissed that you’re not dating at this point, kid. I mean, if it was any of my other employees I’d be a little skeptical, but I know you didn’t bust your ass to get into this industry just to get in Joe Keery’s pants.”

“I mean, it wouldn’t be a bad move.” You joked. “He’s been really…touchy lately, like he wants there to be something more but he’s holding back.” 

“That’s because you keep shutting him down.” She sighed. “Listen, I love you, but you care too much about work and what people think and not enough about yourself sometimes. You need to find a balance, one that allows you to do your job and allows you to be yourself.” 

“Wouldn’t dating Joe make that harder?” You asked, turning down the street that would lead you straight to Joe. “I mean, talk about trying to separate your work and personal life, he is my work. I don’t want to fuck it up by blending the two together.” 

“Even if you did fuck it up, things would be okay.” She said, “You would still have a job with my agency, and Joe would still be able to carry on.” 

“Most people would say ‘Oh no, you won’t fuck it up’.” You deadpanned. “You know, reassurance.” 

“Yeah, but you’re not most people and that’s not what you want to hear.” She hummed out. “You need to know that in the worst case scenario that you’ve concocted in your head that you still have a safe place to land. I’m telling you right now that I am that safe space for you, no matter what happens between you two.” 

Your heart squeezed in your chest, tears welling up in your eyes. 

“That’s really sweet.” You said softly. 

“I know, how tragic that you’ve turned me into mush.” She grumbled. “My point is stop being afraid and go for what you want, okay? I’ll be here if you need me, always.” 

“Thanks, Poppy.” You whispered. “Is that why you called?” 

“No, I called because I told you two dorks to get some distance, and people keep sending me pictures of you sleeping on Joe’s shoulder during the flight, Joe holding your hip in the lobby, Joe pulling you out of a crowd of paps. Like, seriously, do you two not know what distance is?” She exclaimed. “If the internet didn’t think you were together before the Stanley incident, they definitely think you are now.” 

“Oh, fuck.” You groaned. “How did people…I didn’t see anyone around when that stuff was happening.” 

“It’s 2026, people are sneaky and cameras are tiny.” She said, “Now, if you two decide while you’re in the city of love that you want to be an actual thing, please tell me first so I can get ahead of the press instead of playing from behind.” 

“Right.” You cleared your throat, cheeks burning again. “Um, I’ll let you know if that’s …I’ll call you.” 

“Preferably right after, because I want the juicy details first.” She laughed. “Be safe, have fun, use protection-”

“Goodbye.” 

You hung up, rolling your eyes at her flair for dramatics. 

Poppy might have been Joe’s agent and longtime friend, but it was clear that she favored you more.

By the time you got to the restaurant, Joe was leaning against the building with a cigarette between his lips, scrolling on his phone. It shocked you how well he fit into this scene, like he was someone who grew up in a city like this despite being from a small town like yourself. 

You walked over, plucking the cigarette out of his hand before taking a drag and flicking ash off the end. He looked up, brows raised and a crooked smile on his face. 

“Missed you.” He nudged the toe of your boot with his own before pulling you closer by the belt loop, glancing down at the bags in your hands. “You did a lot of shopping.” 

“How could you tell?” You took another drag, handing the cigarette back. 

“My credit card notifications were on.” He teased, nodding down to your bags. “What did you get?” 

“Stuff for your family, a few skincare things you like from here, my birthday present - thanks, by the way, I love it - and just a few pieces that I think will work well with the rest of your fashion week outfits.” You shrugged. “Nothing too crazy.” 

“You bought your own birthday present.” He chuckled. “I buy a present every year, multiple presents actually.” 

“Yeah, but I really wanted this new perfume, and you can only get it in Paris.” You shrugged, smirking up at him. “Thought I’d seize the opportunity.” 

He laughed, flicking the cigarette to the ground. 

“I’m about three drinks deep on an empty stomach, Ace, I need food.” He leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before releasing your belt buckle. “Let’s go.” 

Joe took your shopping bag from you, hovering close enough to your side that your hands brushed as he caught you up on how his friends were doing. It was an eclectic group of friends from high school and college that often traveled together, and it was rare that Joe was ever in the same city with them. He was always so happy when he came back from being with them, like he’d slipped back into that older version of himself that was allowed to be free. 

When he was like this, he reminded you of the version of Joe that you’d first met. 

Full of life, ready to explore and create, and just happy. 

He was still happy, but sometimes the stress was hard for him to hide. 

“Did you hear me?” Joe stopped, holding his arm out in front of you with a huge grin on his face before pointing forward. “The golden arches.” 

You furrowed your brow, looking in the direction he was pointing. 

A laugh pulled out of you, and turned back with a matching grin. 

“You can’t be serious, Joe, we’re in Paris!” You exclaimed. “Mcdonald’s?”

“It’s been ages since I’ve had a Big Mac, and you said yourself that you preferred European Mcdonald’s over American.” He said. “Remember Italy, the tiramisu from the Mcdonald’s cafe?” 

“Oh god, I hope they have that.” You grabbed his arm, pulling him towards the door. “If they do, we’re taking some back to the room for a midnight snack.” 

You walked up to the ordering kiosk, tapping the screen as Joe reached down for your hand. 

You looked down at your joined hands and then back up to his face before giving his hand three gentle squeezes. He leaned down, pressing his lips to the top of your head in response before you turned your attention back to the kiosk. 

“It’s in French.” Joe mumbled, looking over the menu with a furrow in his brow. 

“That is groundbreaking.” You snorted. “A french menu, in France?”

“I like it when you’re sassy with me.” He bumped his shoulder into yours. “Are those bacon cheese fries?” 

You finished out the order, reaching for your phone and tapping it to the credit card machine before the ticket was printed. You turned around to see Joe fumbling with his wallet with a drunken pout, like an old man unsure of where he’d left his card. You reached over, taking his wallet with a soft laugh. 

“Already paid.” You said softly. “Let’s go find a seat.” 

“I wanted to buy you dinner.” He whined. “I promise I can afford Mcdonald’s now, I’m not in college anymore.” 

“Don’t be dramatic, Joseph.” You guided him towards a quiet corner. “You did pay for it.” 

“But I had my wallet.” He sat down in the tiny plastic chair, confused. 

“And I have all of your credit cards saved to my phone.” You lifted it, waving it slightly as he laughed. “I do all of your shopping, remember?” 

“You’re an angel.” He sighed, pulling the chair next to him out. “Sit.” 

“I’m going to get our food, you’re going to stay here and watch the bag.” You ruffled his hair, turning on your heel as they called your number. 

By the time you’d made it back to the table, Joe was digging through the contents of the bag, smiling to himself like he’d won some sort of treasure. 

“I knew it was the perfume version of my cologne.” He held the tin up, waving it at you. “Was this your birthday present?” 

“Yes.” You lowered the tray to the table. “Put it back.” 

The proud grin never left his face as he started to eat his bacon cheese fries, watching your every move as you arranged the table until you felt good enough to settle and eat your own food. His eyes followed your hands, watching each movement as you shifted and adjusted the containers until everything was sorted. 

“You do that a lot.” He said. 

“What?” You looked up, reaching for a packet of ketchup. 

“Fidgeting, like you’re afraid to rest for even a second.” He said. “You can relax and unwind a bit, Ace, it’s okay. You’re not on the clock.” 

“It’s not about work.” You clarified, squeezing out ketchup. “I just need things to be…right.” 

He tilted his head to the side curiously, and you inhaled sharply. 

“I just like for things to be a certain way, that’s all.” You muttered. “And it’s more efficient if you set it up like this, so you have space for your sauce and-”

“It’s not just the food.” He said softly. “Does it make you anxious when you’re not in control of a situation? Is that why you're always fixing things and moving around?"  

You felt like the air was sucked out of the room as Joe casually reached for his drink, taking a sip like his question wasn’t peeling back layers that you’d worked hard to build. 

“Jeeze, let a girl get to her chicken nuggets before you start analyzing her deepest insecurities.” You muttered. “What exactly did you drink at the bar?” 

“I had three pornstar martini’s.” He was smug again. “They remind me of you.” 

“Oh my god.” You held your hands to your face, hiding your laughter as Joe wiggled his eyebrows. “You can’t handle your liquor.” 

“Oh, yes I can.” He snorted out a laugh. “Should we talk about the night we met? I’d known you for a total of two hours before you kicked off your shoes, handed me your purse, and ran off with Natalia after three margaritas.” 

“That is not how that went down.” You defended through laughter. “And I was younger then, so it doesn’t count.”

“I think I remember how it happened, Ace.” He laughed, leaning back in his chair. “I was sober the entire night, keeping an eye on you and Nat.” 

Something tingled at the back of your mind, a melody from one of Joe’s songs that reminded you of the moment he was talking about.

Was it I want your video that reminded you of that night?

Surely not, that song was definitely about the ex before Anna.

He watched your face, tilting his head as he continued to eat his fries. He was still buzzed, but you could tell he was coming down from the pornstar martini high that he had been riding. 

“You okay?” He asked. 

“Yeah.” You shook your head, returning back to your own food. “Just have this song stuck in my head.” 

“Hate it when that happens.” He mumbled, reaching for his drink. “So, we should probably talk about sleeping together.”

Diet coke flew from your nose, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. 

“Shit.” Joe slid next to you in the booth, wiping the napkin across your nose. “I meant that in an innocent way, I swear.” 

“Jesus, Joe.” You coughed out as he rubbed his hand over your back. “You’re literally trying to kill me.” 

“I promise I don’t want to kill you.” He chuckled. “I like you too much to get rid of you.” 

“I’m sleeping on the couch again, and you’re going to take the bed.” You gasped, sitting up a little straighter as he let out a frustrated sigh. “Listen, harmless flirting is one thing, but sharing a bed is intimate and I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us.” 

“We can put a wall of pillows between us and we can face away from each other, but you aren’t sleeping on that couch.” He said, sliding his hand up towards the back of your neck again. “I know you’re sore because of it.” 

You bit the inside of your cheek as his fingers pushed past your hair, gently massaging the base of your neck. You tried not to let him see how much his touch affected you, how much it made you burn inside thinking about how his touch would feel in other places. 

“Joe-”

“Please just humor me.” He leaned closer. “We’ll be here for a whole week, and I can’t justify letting you sleep on that god awful couch.” 

You glanced over at him, watching him as he continued to massage your neck, reducing you to putty. 

“Fine.” You whispered. “Now get over to your side of the table before your food gets cold.”

Joe’s smile split his face, pulling up at the corners of his mouth as you rolled your eyes. 

The two of you finished your dinner between small smiles and silly questions like ‘What’s your favorite color’ and ‘What’s your favorite song that you’re ashamed to admit you like’.

Joe was treating it like an interview, soaking up every word you said with soft nods and the brightest smile. His buzz was gone by the time he tossed out your trash, fully sober as he guided you out onto the streets of Paris. 

It was by sheer luck that you realized just how close your hotel was to the Mcdonald’s, and you had a feeling that this wouldn’t be your last time seeing the golden arches while you were in the city. Joe couldn’t stop raving about how much he enjoyed their bacon cheese fries while you walked side by side, knuckles brushing with each step. 

You realized when the two of you got onto the elevator and the silence surrounded you that the idea of sleeping in the same bed as Joe had you feeling nauseous.

Before the Stanley incident, you’d been good at keeping your anxiety under control. Now that you were about to share a bed with your boss, the man you definitely had a crush on, your anxiety was dragging you down. 

Joe took the hotel key, ushering you into your shared suite with a gentle smile. 

“You can get ready for bed first.” He said, resting his hand on your mid back as you began to take things out of the shopping bag. “I’m going to make a phone call.” 

“Okay.” You didn’t question who he was calling, probably one of his sisters if you had to guess. 

You made your way into the bathroom with a few of your new skincare products and your brand new pajamas that you purchased after the fiasco earlier. If you were going to be sharing a bed with Joe, you would need more coverage than your other sleep shorts offered.

While you were brushing your teeth, looking at your bare face in the mirror, your heart started to beat just a little harder. 

Your fingers were shaking as you reached to turn the tap on, your breathing choppy and uneven as you rinsed your mouth out.

What if you talked in your sleep? 

What if you ended up on Joe’s side of the bed?

You weren’t the type of person who did sleepovers or overnight stays with your friends as a kid, and you definitely hadn’t shared a bed with someone that you had feelings for. 

Joe’s comment about control came back, circling in your mind as you applied moisturizer to your face. It felt like you were moving in slow motion now, your body actively trying to slow down the process of getting ready as if it would magically change the circumstances you were facing.

When you finally gathered up the courage to make it out of the bathroom, you felt like you’d lost your voice when you saw Joe gathering up his own pajamas. He looked back at you with that smile, the one that made your knees feel like jello. You tried to offer him one back, but you knew it came across as an awkward smile you’d give a stranger. 

“You okay?” He stopped in front of you, and you nodded a little too quickly. “Are you sure?” 

“No.” You confessed, shaking your head. “But we can talk about it later.” 

He paused, his eyes trailing over your face like something in your expression would give him a clue, but you were too good at hiding from him now. Years of holding back opinions, masking your emotions, and adjusting your expressions prepared you for this moment. 

Joe lifted his hand, thumb brushing across your chin for a second before he moved on towards the bathroom. You let out a breath that you didn’t even know you’d been holding, stumbling to the side of the bed closest to you. His things were on the night stand, so you crawled across and began rearranging pillows so there would be some kind of barrier between your bodies in the middle of the night. 

You tried your best to calm yourself, pulling out your phone and jotting down your thoughts into the notes app on your phone as if it could organize the hurricane brewing in your mind. It was enough to quiet down the panic for a moment or two, but then you heard the bathroom door open and your heart leapt up to your throat. 

You quickly threw yourself down, hiding behind the pillow wall as you tried to pretend you were asleep. Joe walked in, cursing softly as he tripped over something. He tried to be quiet as he put his things away, but he was failing miserably at it, bumping into furniture and dropping things as he moved. 

By the time the lights were turned off, you opened your eyes. 

“Holy shit.” You said softly, sitting up as the twinkle of lights caught your attention from the window. “Joe, look at this.” 

You tossed the blankets from your legs, scrambling over to the window seat. 

You had the perfect view of the Eiffel Tower, close enough to see the twinkling lights but far enough away that you could see almost all of it.

“Oh my god, it’s so beautiful.” You whispered, pushing up on your knees as you looked over the landmark with wide eyes and a smile. “Joe, do you see it?” 

When you turned back, his eyes were on you. 

“What?” You asked, lowering down. “Did you see it?” 

“Yeah.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s breathtaking.” 

“It is.” You whispered, turning back to look at it. “Pierre really did us a solid, huh?” 

“Yeah.” Joe whispered, exhaling sharply as you continued to stare at the landmark, your eyes sparkling with the twinkle of the lights. “He really did.” 

Joe hovered behind you for a few moments more until you finally decided to make your way down from the window seat. You turned around, offering him another awkward smile before making your way over to the side of the bed that you’d claimed. 

“Were you pretending to be asleep earlier?” He asked softly, pulling back the covers as you crawled in. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You hummed, turning your back towards him as you rested your head on the pillow. 

“So that’s how we’re going to do it, huh?” He chuckled. “You were absolutely pretending to be asleep so you wouldn’t have to talk to me.” 

“Yeah, I definitely was.” You confessed, a real smile curving your lips. “I’ve never shared a bed with anyone before.” 

He didn’t say anything, the sound of the sheets rustling and the bed moving indicating that he was turning on his side of the great pillow wall. 

“Not even with your friends?” He asked. 

“No.” You mumbled into the darkness. “I wasn’t really invited to sleepovers as a kid, and as an adult, I’ve only traveled with you.” 

You could feel the lingering question in the air, one that Joe wanted to ask but was afraid to because he didn’t want to push you too hard. 

“Go ahead and ask the question.” You said, biting back a smile. 

“Does that mean-” Joe paused, letting out an audible exhale as he shifted. “Um, have you-”

“Yes.” You bit back a chuckle. “But it’s always been a casual thing, so I don’t usually stay the night.” 

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “Do you have someone that you usually call or-”

“Joe, it’s been a long time.” You confessed. “Like an embarrassingly long time, actually.”

“It can’t be that bad.” He whispered. “It’s been a while for me too.”

“Oh?” You rolled onto your back, resting your hands on your stomach, running through memories in your mind. “Was Anna the last person you were with?” 

“There was someone after Anna, an old friend.” He said softly. “But it was just sex.”

You tapped your fingers along the back of your hand, pressing your lips together. 

“It’s been eight years.” You whispered, squeezing your eyes shut. “And to be completely honest with you, I was only with that one person a few times before I called it off.” 

“Was it someone I know?” His voice sounded a little strained, like he didn’t really want to know the answer to his own question. 

“No.” You fought the urge to turn on your side and look at him. “I met him in Atlanta.” 

“And he was good to you?” Joe asked. 

“He was nice.” You hummed. “Wasn’t exactly the best experience, but that isn’t anyone’s fault.” 

Joe groaned, his hands flying up to his face. 

“What?” 

“I don’t know if I can hear this.” His voice was muffled. “When you say it wasn’t the best experience-”

“You just said you didn’t want to hear this.” You laughed. “He was a gentleman, but I just think I need more of an emotional connection if the physical is going to be any good.” 

“That’s fair.” He blew out another breath, turning onto his side so he was facing you, his head propped up on the palm of his hand. “I can understand that.” 

“Alright, you’ve asked me a million questions tonight.” You turned, meeting his eyes in the dark. “Tomorrows a big day, so we should get some rest.” 

Joe sighed, flopping back down. 

“You already know so much about me.” He mumbled. “You’ve kept parts of you locked away for so long, Ace, and I’m dying to learn more while I can.” 

“I thought it was the right thing to do, keeping my personal life to myself.” You confessed. “You’re my boss, and neither of us knew what we were doing at the start of this whole thing. I don’t think we anticipated it to move so fast, and somewhere along the way it just became our version of normal.” 

“Yeah.” He said. “But now that we’re…different, will you open up to me just a little more?” 

“Joe, I just told you about the guy I lost my virginity to.” You laughed. “I think I’ve opened up quite a bit for someone who was afraid to tell you that I was going on a date just four days ago.” 

“Oh, god.” Joe snorted out a laugh. “You’re trying to kill me now.” 

“Nah, I like you too much to get rid of you.” You teased. “Besides, who would I boss around?” 

“You’d find someone, I’m sure.” He joked back. “Goodnight, ace.” 

“Goodnight Joe.” You whispered, turning on your side again and closing your eyes with a soft sigh.