Please Divorce Me, Alpha! {BL}

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I had barely spent fifteen minutes in Paris before I decided that whoever came up with the idea of jet lag was to blame for ruining otherwise fantastic vacations.

The hotel was stunning — like, ridiculously stunning. I felt like I should keep my hands to myself.

The lobby boasted enormous windows with a view of the city, polished marble floors, impressive flower arrangements, and enough gold trims that I couldn’t help but wonder if the designer missed the memo about moderation.

A chandelier as big as a small car hung above the reception, casting a soft golden light across the marble while a pianist played something smooth and classy, making the whole lobby feel like the opening scene of a movie I wasn’t even in.

Naturally, Lorenzo looked totally unfazed. He walked through the place like it was just a grocery store...somewhat aware, but completely unbothered by its fanciness already preoccupied with his to-do list.

He handed his coat to one of the staff while several of his security guys quietly organized around the private floor we were staying on.

Men with earpieces were whispering to each other by the elevators.

One was checking a floor plan on a tablet, while another pair positioned themselves near the stairwell as if a stairwell in a Parisian hotel posed some major threat to international peace.

I watched them, then looked at Lorenzo, and back again. ”Uh...we’re here for a vacation and a business trip, right?”

”Yes,” he said.

”It just looks a bit like you’re gearing up for a military takeover.”

Lorenzo glanced over at his guys before facing me again. ”They’re just being careful.”

As soon as we got to our room, I dropped my suitcase and headed straight for the balcony doors. The room was huge... cream and gold everywhere, a bed large enough for a small country, and large windows making the whole city look picture-perfect!

But I didn’t even pause to appreciate it. I needed to be outside, motherfuckers!

Lorenzo caught my wrist. ”Where do you think you’re going?”

”Outside.”

”It’s almost midnight.”

”I don’t care.”

”You’ve been awake for hours.”

I let out a silly grin, ”I can sleep when I’m dead!”

”Alex.”

I turned around and gave him my best innocent look. He stared at me for a moment before sighing. ”You are really exhausting.”

Before I could come up with a clever retort, he leaned down and kissed me, effectively shutting me up in the most annoying way possible. When he pulled back, his fingers brushed through my hair.

”Sleep first,” he suggested. ”Tomorrow, I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

I narrowed my eyes. ”Anywhere?”

”Within reason.”

I sighed dramatically, but I couldn’t help but smile. ”Okay, tomorrow morning.”

Later on, I found out that saying I’d sleep was one thing, but actually doing it was a whole different story. I stood on the balcony in my pajamas, gazing at the Eiffel Tower shimmering against the Parisian night sky.

The air was cool enough to give me goosebumps, and it smelled a bit of rain that hadn’t quite made up its mind yet.

It was beautiful... not the kind of beauty that could be captured in a travel booklet. I’d seen pictures countless times, but they didn’t do justice to how it looked from here, lit up against the dark with the city sprawled out in every direction, rooftops, chimneys, and tiny glowing windows stretching all the way to the horizon.

I leaned on the railing, lost in thought.

Behind me, the balcony door opened. ”Mio coure.”

”I’m looking.”

”You’ve been looking out there for twenty minutes.”

”It’s the Eiffel Tower.”

”I know that.”

”You don’t sound impressed.”

”I’ve seen it before.”

I turned to face him slowly. ”You’re a terrible person.”

Lorenzo stood in the doorway in just some loose sleeping pants, his messy pale hair framing his face. He looked way too relaxed for someone who just killed my awe for one of the world’s most iconic sights.

”I’ll give you another five minutes,” he said.

”Ten.”

”Five.”

”Eight.”

”Six.”

”Fine.”

I turned back to admire the view. Seven minutes later, I felt his arms wrap around my waist. ”Dracula, go away.”

”You’ve had six minutes.”

”I was appreciating history! It’s just so beautiful!”

”You can appreciate it tomorrow.”

Before I could argue, he picked me up, and I yelped, clutching his shoulders. ”Oh, no, no, no! Not this again! Fucking put me down!”

”No.”

”Dracula!”

He carried me back into the room while I protested loudly, probably loud enough that a couple of guards outside could hear me. ”This is still kidnapping!”

”Its bedtime.”

”I’m an adult for crying out loud!”

”Then act like one.”

He set me on the bed, and before I could escape and run back to the balcony, he leaned over me, pinning me down, his warm bare chest against mine.

”You need sleep,” he murmured.

He lowered his face to my neck, breathing in against the fading mark there, and I felt myself lose half the argument right then.

His lips brushed my skin before finding mine. The kiss was slow and warm, nothing like the playful struggle we’d had earlier. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine.

”Tomorrow,” he whispered. ”You can have the whole city to yourself, but you need your energy for it. Do you not?”

I swallowed. ”Fine.”

”Good.”

Finally, I settled under the blankets, even though I kept grumbling for a few more minutes because my dignity insisted on it.

Unfortunately, my body had other ideas. I fell asleep almost instantly.

I woke up before sunrise.

Pretty much the earliest I’ve ever woken up in like a decade.

For several minutes, I lay there, staring at the ceiling, fully awake and overwhelmed with the insane realization that I was in Paris.

Outside, the city was just beginning to wake... I could hear a delivery truck in the distance, the hum of early morning traffic, and a bird somewhere above the rooftops that clearly hadn’t gotten the note that the sun wasn’t up yet.

Paris!

I turned my head. Lorenzo was still asleep beside me, one arm stretched across the mattress, his messy pale hair spread out on the pillow.

He looked totally different while sleeping ... less intimidating, way less like the terrifying mafia Don everyone else saw and more like the guy who sometimes stole my blanket without knowing.

I thought about waking him, but instead, I just sat on top of him. I honestly have no idea why.

Maybe excitement fried the last working part of my brain.

Lorenzo’s green eyes opened slowly. He stared at me, and I smiled brightly.

”Good morning, Dracula! Ready to explore the city now?!”

For a moment, he looked genuinely surprised. Then he lifting his hand to brush my hair back from my face. ”Did you even sleep?”

”Of course I did.”

His eyebrow shot up.

”Fine, maybe three hours.”

”Alex.”

”I was way too excited.”

”I noticed.”

I jumped off the bed. ”Get dressed.”

He sighed. ”I guess there’s no arguing.”

”You got it!”

I practically sprinted toward the bathroom.

By the time we left the hotel, I felt like I had enough energy for three people and zero sense of restraint.

The morning air was crisp enough to make my breath visible, the streets glistening from the rain that had fallen overnight, and somewhere a bakery was already open, filling the air with the smell of warm bread that I wouldn’t dream of resisting.

Our first stop was the Eiffel Tower.