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Chapter 60:

Arya woke up with a headache.

She swirled up from the bed, her head banging. She forced her brain to recap what happened. Holy Shit. She was drunk.

She squeezed her feet into those flip-flops and headed downstairs, her hair messy, her face sinking. Her breath was so rowdy.

"What happened?" Were they already in Paris? Their plane was supposed to fly to Paris yesterday.

But then she glanced around, she recognized the room decor and sighed, they were still in New York.

She felt relieved.

"Hey." That towering figure was right before her again.

Blood pumped through her heart, "Devon?" Was it growing hot in here, because it definitely felt like it.

"The plane is leaving today. Are you ready?"

"Weren't we supposed to leave yesterday?" Her throat soured.

His brows crouched together in defeat. "Yes, but you were tired, so I postponed it to today."

She gazed up to look at him, he looked nice in his gray sweatpants. Damn, she was ogling him.

"You did that...?" She asked. Doubt flooding through
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