Teacher's Girl (Aflyingwhale)

Chapter 91: Parisian Romance 

EMMA’s POV : For the first time in eight months, I typed his name into a google search.

A few things came up.

There was an article in The New Yorker about the gallery’s grand opening.

The article praised the exhibition, calling it a creative space for international contemporary art lovers.

There was also a picture of lan and Ally, standing together in front of the gallery with Mayor de Blasio.

They were smiling from ear to ear.

They sure made a great looking couple.

That was painful to see.

The article even called them ' the power duo’, New York's hottest art lovers.

I put my phone down and immediately regretted my decision.

I should have never googled an ex.

Ever.

But I was stubborn.

After my friends went back to the States, I was alone in my apartment again and I was forced to deal with my feelings.

There were still a few days left in the holiday, so I had no excuse to be busy with school or the internship.

In my desperate, boredom stage, I ended up googling his name again.

This time, I found Ally’s social media page.

lan had deleted his Instagram profile ages ago, right around when we started dating.

He wanted to keep himself and his activities hidden from the world.

He also never liked the idea of social media in the first place.

But finding Ally’s Instagram page was like finding a land mine.

Her page was filled with pictures of her and lan.

Ian looked...great, of course.

His hair was longer and his jaw was scruffier.

He wore a lot of suits now and he looked amazing in them.

His tattoos would peak out of his collar and I remembered how much I enjoyed running my fingers through his inked skin.

Ugh! I need to stop! We just entered a new year and this year my resolution was to stop pining over my long lost love.

Stalking his girlfriend’s instagram page wasn't gonna help my case.

I threw my stupid phone on the bed groaned into a pillow.

I'm so pathetic! I can’t keep living like this! I have to do something! Suddenly, I was hit with an idea.

I grabbed my phone again and stared blankly at the screen for a few seconds.

Not wanting to overthink things anymore, my finger tapped the screen several times and I got right to work.

This was probably not one of my brightest moments.

I just download Tinder.

For a while, all I did in that app was swipe people.

Swiping left, swiping right, it was just something to entertain myself.

I wasn’t in any mood to find love, especially not on Tinder in a foreign land.

I was just bored, honestly.

And looking at these guys’ faces on my screen was a safe way to remind myself that there are other people out there.

There could still be a future for me after lan Hayes.

Sometimes the guys I matched with would send me messages and they could be flattering.

They were a great confidence boost, and I would leave it at that.

But some days when I got super bored, I ended up replying to their messages.

I didn't think of much of it.

I only downloaded the app for fun anyway.

But after talking to several guys for a few weeks, the idea of meeting one of them seemed enticing.

"I don’t have to marry the guy, I’m just looking for friends,"

I said to myself.

So one day in early March, I agreed to go on a date with this guy, Olivier.

He seemed like a sweet guy with beautiful eyes, and we bonded over our love of Harry Potter.

We agreed to meet at this bar not too far from my apartment complex.

The thing about online dating that I quickly learned was that people were not what they seemed.

Yes, he looked nice in his pictures and he seemed like a genuine guy on the phone, but as soon as we met that night, all he wanted to do was to shove his tongue down my throat.

Needless to say, it wasn’t a great experience.

Maybe I was too naive going into this date thinking that ms nA im his it wouldn’t go this way.

I mean, think about it, what is France famous for? No, not the French fries, they were actually from Belgium.

I was talking about the French kiss.

Kissing in France was more than an act.

It was like an art form, and French people were more than willing to indulge in them in public.

I noticed that French men were effeminate.

Of course, there were masculine French men in the city, but I was talking about their culture.

They tended to embrace their feminine side more openly than guys in America.

In America, men showing their feminine side were often considered gay or weak.

In France, guys were more vocal about their love for art and romance.

They didn’t care about being too forward or mushy, they only did what they feel.

Still, shoving their uninvited tongue down my throat did not scream romance to me.

"Uhm, yeah, okay, no, sorry, I don't think this gonna work,"

I said as I pushed Olivier by his chest.

He looked at me in confusion as I gathered my purse and stood up straight.

"Something wrong?"he asked.

Oh, gee, if you have to ask, I don’t even know where to begin.I smiled politely at him and said, "Sorry, I'm just not into it.Have a good night," Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

Not waiting for him to say another word, I turned to my heels and walked out of the bar in a flash.

It was late at night and I didn’t feel like walking home alone, so I decided to get an Uber.

I was waiting for my Uber in front of the bar, when suddenly a tall guy in messy dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes approached me.

"Tough night, eh?"he greeted.

"Excuse me?"

"I saw you inside.From the looks of it, you could use some of this,"he lent out a pack of cigarettes to me, and I shook my head in response.

"No, I’m good, thank you,"

"You are an American?"

"Yes,"

"What state are you from?"

"Georgia originally,"

"Oh, I thought you're from Tennessee.Because you're the "

"Only ten I see?"

I laughed drily.

Our eyes met and we laughed at the lameness of that pick-up line.

For a French guy, his English was pretty good even though his accent was heavy.

"What's your name?"he asked.

"Emma,"

"Nice to meet you, Emma.I’m Elliott Jacques,"he put his hand out to me and I took it politely.

When I was about to pull away, however, he held onto it a second longer.

There was tension in the air, absolutely.

"So tell me, aside from being drop-dead gorgeous, what do you for a living?"he said after a while of silence.

"I'm still in my third year of college.I'm on an exchange program,"I said, sounding as casual as possible.

"Oh, my mistake.I thought you are a magician,"

"Why?"

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Because every time I look at you, everyone else disappears,"

I couldn’t help but laugh a little.

"Are you always this...cheesy?"

"Me? You're the one who's made of cheese,"

"What?"

"Because you're looking Gouda tonight!"he grinned.

"Stop!"

I rolled my eyes at him.

"Oh, I can keep going all night long,"

"..That’s what she said,"we both said this joke in unison.

Our eyes met again and we smiled appreciatively at each other’s humor.

It was a weird moment, like we both somehow clicked together.

At that moment, my Uber pulled up in front of the bar and I took a step towards it.

"It’s my ride, I have to go,"

"Wait, before you go,"

he stopped my tracks, pausing for a second before saying, "Don’t tell me if you want me to take you out to dinner.Just smile for yes or kick me in the nuts for no,"

That was funny yet charming.

I didn't know how to respond to that, so I just said, "You're so weird,"

But at the end of that night, I did agree on getting dinner with him and he did get my number.

Not counting the weird meet-up with Olivier at that bar, I hadn't been on a proper date with a guy other than lan since I was sixteen.

Then again, I couldn't really count that as going on a date since we mostly stayed in his apartment and made out.

I honestly couldn't remember the last time I went out on a proper date.

Elliott was surprisingly a very sweet guy.

On our first date, we got dinner at this romantic restaurant by the Seine River.

As we were having dinner, I found out that he was actually a music teacher.

What was it with teachers and me? Anyway, we took a walk along the river after dinner and we talked about everything from music to our existential crises.

He asked if he could hold my hand and I let him.

There was something so nice about a twenty five year old guy asking to hold my hand instead of shoving their tongue down my throat.

For our second date, Elliott and I went to the Carnavalet Museum and took a walk around the garden.

It was sunset by the time we got to the garden, so the place looked extra beautiful.

I noticed he was looking at my face a lot throughout the day and when I confronted him about it, he calmly responded with, "I keep looking at your because it’s so beautiful and I want to kiss you,"

We did kiss that day.

In the garden at sunset.

It was just a short, sweet kiss.

But I had a feeling I wouldn't forget it that easily.

On our third date, we took a day trip to Loire Valley.

It was a beautiful area with a castle, historical towns, vineyards, and fruit orchards.

We did a wine tasting in the vineyard and Elliott kept raving about this glass of wine being the best wine ever.

I asked him if I could try it and he proceeded with kissing me on the lips, parting my mouth open with the tip of his tongue, and a slurp of wine poured into my mouth.

He was very smooth with that.

Our fourth date was a lot of fun.

We went to a jazz club called Le Bal Blomet and I learned that Elliott was a great drums player and dancer.

He was like a gift that keeps on giving.

We drank martinis, danced all night, and we made out a little.

Okay, fine, we made out a lot.

So far in my life, I had kissed six guys in total.

The first one was Zach, then lan, Ryan, Tyler, and Olivier the too much tongue guy, and Elliott.

Elliott was definitely on the top two.

He was so good with his tongue, he might even be a better kisser than lan.

Tonight was our fifth date.

Elliott mentioned that he enjoyed cooking and he wanted to make dinner for me.

So after my internship that day, I went to his apartment in the heart of the city.

There was a balcony in his apartment and you could see the Eiffel Tower from it.

It was absolutely gorgeous.

Dinner was exquisite too.

He made a classic Lyonnaise salad and filet mignon with Béarnaise sauce.

It was like a meal straight out of a five star restaurant.

After dinner, we sat on the balcony, listening to music and watching the beautiful Paris skyline in front of us.

I had a glass of wine with me and we were just talking in the beginning, but as the night went on, talking turned into locking lips.

We were kissing each other for what felt like an eternity.

I was relishing in the way his tongue danced around the corners of my mouth.

My hands ran through his lush dirty blonde hair and his hands were on my hips.

His lips now left my mouth and he inched towards my necks.

He peppered kisses all along my jaw until he reached the crook of my neck.

His hand traveled up from my waist, resting just below my breasts.

I felt a familiar warmth burning inside my stomach, something I hadn't felt in a long time.

When his lips found the sweet spot on my neck, I almost lost it.

Ian’s face flashed before my eyes and I gasped instantly, my body jolted like it was struck by lighting.

I pushed Elliott away with both my hands, causing him to flinch.

"I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?"

he asked, wildly confused.

"No...no, it’s not you..."

"Emma, it’s okay.We don't have to do anything you don't want to,"he said sweetly.

Elliott was absolutely sweet and I wanted to kiss him some more, I didn’t know why lan had to pop up into my head like that.

Shaking that stupid image out of my head, I took a deep breath and made perhaps one of the biggest decisions of my love life since lan Hayes.

"But I do,"

I said to Elliott.

His eyes lit up as soon as I said it.

He leaned his face down again and kissed me gently on the cheek, saying, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I’m sure,"

A sweet smile curved up his face as he got up to his feet.

He lent his hand out to me and I took it.

Slowly, he led me back inside and we kept walking until we reached his bedroom.

Standing in front of his bed, Elliott titted my face up with one hand and captured my lips with his again.

His other hand snaked around my back and found the zipper to my dress.

Tugging the zipper down, Elliott peeled the dress from my body until it pooled around my feet on the floor.

My hands worked on unbuttoning his shirt until he was topless, revealing his lean but toned muscles.

' "Have you ever had a French man made love to you before?"he asked seductively to my ears.

"No,"I replied.

The only guy that had ever made love to me was he who must not be named, and it had been almost a year since then.

"Then you will remember this forever,"

he said and in one fell swoop, I was brought down to the bed and he was hovering on top of me.

He leaned down and I felt his tongue traveling from my neck down to my chest, then stomach, and now it rested in front of my lower area.

He looked up at me and smiled a beautiful smile.

I tilted my head back and surrendered myself to his touch.

I hope so too, Elliott.

Please, make me remember this and forget him instead.