Matchmaker Mayhem
Chapter 74: A Parisian Stroll

Chapter 74: A Parisian Stroll

The morning light streamed through the tall windows of the apartment, filtering through the sheer curtains and casting a warm glow across the room. Ava stirred first, blinking groggily as she registered the soft sounds of the city waking up—birds chirping, the faint hum of a Vespa in the distance, and the occasional laughter of pedestrians below. She stretched lazily, momentarily forgetting where she was until the scent of freshly baked bread wafted into the room.

Paris. Right.

The realization hit her just as Ryan let out a soft groan beside her. Ava turned her head slightly, biting back a smile as she took in the sight of him sprawled across the bed, one arm thrown over his head and the other dangerously close to her side. For all his teasing, Ryan looked endearingly boyish in his sleep, his hair slightly mussed and his expression completely at ease.

As if sensing her gaze, Ryan’s eyes fluttered open, and he blinked a few times before focusing on her. "Morning," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

"Morning," Ava replied, her tone light as she pushed herself up onto her elbows. "Do you always take up this much space, or is it just when you’re sharing a bed?"

Ryan smirked, his voice warming with teasing. "I was giving you space, Matchmaker. If anything, you’re the one who hogged the covers."

Ava rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the small laugh that bubbled up. "Let’s call it even. Now, come on. Mei will probably have some over-the-top itinerary planned, and I’d like to get coffee before she ropes us into her next ’adventure.’"

Ryan groaned dramatically but followed her lead, throwing back the covers and stretching as he stood. "Fine, but if there’s a mime involved today, I’m blaming you."

---

After a quick breakfast of croissants and coffee from the bakery down the street, Ava and Ryan found themselves wandering through the cobblestone streets of Paris. Mei had left a note claiming she and Harold were off "scouting" potential competitors, which Ava suspected was code for an extravagant shopping spree.

"It’s kind of nice," Ryan said, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets as they walked side by side. "Having some quiet time before the chaos kicks in."

Ava hummed in agreement, her eyes drifting to the shop windows they passed. Paris was alive with color and sound—flower stands bursting with vibrant blooms, artists sketching portraits on street corners, and the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked pastries filling the air.

"Do you think Mei’s really scouting, or is she just trying to outdo herself in finding the most impractical souvenir?" Ava asked, glancing at Ryan.

He chuckled. "Knowing Mei? Probably both. I wouldn’t be surprised if she comes back with a life-sized Eiffel Tower made out of chocolate."

Ava laughed, the sound light and unguarded. "That sounds about right."

As they turned a corner, they found themselves in a quieter square, where a small fountain bubbled at the center. A handful of people sat on benches, enjoying the morning sun, while a street musician strummed a soft melody on his guitar. Ava slowed her pace, her gaze drawn to the scene.

"It’s beautiful," she murmured.

Ryan glanced at her, noting the way her face softened as she took in the moment. Without thinking, he reached out and took her hand, his fingers curling gently around hers. "Yeah, it is."

Ava froze for a heartbeat, her gaze dropping to their joined hands. But instead of pulling away, she allowed herself to relax, her fingers tightening slightly around his. It felt... natural. Comfortable.

"Look at you," Ava said, her voice teasing but her expression warm. "Getting all sentimental."

"Don’t get used to it," Ryan said with a grin. "I have a reputation to uphold."

---

Their peaceful stroll eventually led them to a bustling outdoor market. Stalls lined the cobblestone streets, overflowing with everything from fresh produce and artisan cheeses to handwoven scarves and vintage trinkets. The air buzzed with energy as vendors called out their wares and shoppers bartered over prices.

Ava’s eyes lit up as she spotted a stall selling brightly colored macarons. "We have to try these," she said, tugging Ryan toward the display.

Before he could protest, she was already chatting animatedly with the vendor, who offered her a sample. Ryan watched with amusement as she debated between pistachio and raspberry, ultimately deciding to get a box of both.

"You know we’re supposed to be saving room for lunch, right?" Ryan said as Ava handed him the box.

"Who says we can’t have dessert first?" Ava replied, popping a macaron into her mouth.

As they wandered deeper into the market, chaos seemed to follow them. Ava accidentally bumped into a vendor’s table, sending a pile of oranges rolling across the street. Ryan, attempting to help, managed to trip over a crate of baguettes, much to the vendor’s exasperation.

"Maybe we should stick to window shopping," Ava said, trying—and failing—to suppress her laughter as Ryan straightened, a baguette still clutched in his hand.

"Or you could stop causing trouble," Ryan shot back, though his grin took the sting out of his words.

---

The Seine flowed quietly beneath them, its waters reflecting the golden hues of the midday sun. Tour boats glided past lazily, their passengers waving to pedestrians along the riverbank. The gentle hum of Parisian life surrounded them—artists sketching portraits on the embankment, couples strolling arm in arm, and the occasional street performer adding a soft melody to the air.

Ava leaned against the stone railing, the box of macarons resting beside her, her fingers trailing idly along the cool surface. She tilted her head back slightly, closing her eyes and letting the sun warm her face. For a brief moment, the weight of the upcoming competition, Julian’s inevitable antics, and Mei’s unpredictable schemes all melted away.

Ryan stood beside her, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets as he watched her. She looked... peaceful. And that was rare. Ava was always a whirlwind of thoughts and plans, constantly on edge about the next challenge or problem to solve. But here, with the river shimmering and the city stretching out around them, she seemed almost unguarded.

"Thinking about sneaking a second dessert before lunch?" Ryan teased, his voice breaking the comfortable silence.

Ava opened her eyes, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "Maybe. Who says we can’t have a macaron now and a croissant later?"

Ryan chuckled, shaking his head. "You’re incorrigible."

"I prefer resourceful," Ava corrected, plucking a raspberry macaron from the box and holding it up like a trophy. She paused for a moment, studying it, then surprised Ryan by holding it out to him. "Here."

He arched an eyebrow. "Sharing your dessert? Am I supposed to feel honored?"

"You should," Ava said, grinning. "It’s a rare privilege."

Ryan leaned in slightly, his lips brushing her fingers as he took the macaron from her hand. For a fleeting second, Ava’s breath hitched, her pulse quickening at the unexpected intimacy of the gesture. Ryan’s gaze met hers as he straightened, and the playful smirk he usually wore softened into something quieter, something unspoken.

"Not bad," he said after a beat, breaking the tension with a bite of the macaron. "A little sweet, though."

Ava laughed, the sound light and easy. "Says the guy who eats frosting straight from the tub."

"Hey, that’s called efficiency," Ryan shot back, grinning again. "But seriously, these are good. Parisian desserts live up to the hype."

They stood there for a while longer, the box of macarons dwindling as they alternated between teasing each other and lapsing into a comfortable silence. The river breeze tugged at Ava’s hair, sending loose strands dancing around her face. Ryan reached out instinctively, tucking one behind her ear, his fingers lingering for just a moment too long.

"You’ve got that look again," Ava said softly, her voice tinged with curiosity.

"What look?" Ryan asked, his tone equally quiet.

"Like you’re about to say something important," she replied, studying him.

Ryan hesitated, his usual bravado dimming slightly. "I was just thinking... you’ve been running nonstop since New York. You deserve to enjoy this. All of it. Not just Paris, but everything you’ve accomplished."

Ava blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. She wasn’t used to hearing praise like that—at least not the kind that felt this genuine, this personal. "I’m just doing my job," she said after a moment, her voice softer than she intended.

Ryan shook his head. "It’s more than that, Ava. What you do... it matters. You bring people together. You remind them that connection is worth the risk."

Ava swallowed hard, her heart thudding against her ribs. "And what about you?" she asked quietly. "Do you think it’s worth the risk?"

For a moment, Ryan didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on hers. Then he reached out, his hand covering hers on the railing. "Yeah," he said, his voice low but steady. "I do."

The world seemed to narrow around them, the sounds of the city fading into the background. Ava’s pulse quickened, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts. But she didn’t pull away. Instead, she let herself stay in the moment, her hand warm beneath his.

"I don’t know what’s going to happen in Paris," Ava said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I’m glad you’re here."

Ryan’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile. "Me too, Matchmaker."

Ava looked down at their hands, a soft blush creeping up her cheeks. She’d always been the one in control, the one who kept her walls up. But here, with Ryan standing beside her and the Seine flowing quietly below, she felt something shift—something she couldn’t quite put into words.

"Come on," Ryan said after a moment, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "Let’s keep walking. Paris isn’t going to explore itself."

Ava nodded, her lips curving into a faint smile as they turned away from the railing. Their hands stayed entwined as they strolled along the riverbank, the quiet intimacy of the moment lingering between them. For the first time in a long time, Ava felt like she didn’t need to have all the answers. She didn’t need to plan every step ahead.

For now, this was enough.