Matchmaker Mayhem
Chapter 77: A Morning in Paris

Chapter 77: A Morning in Paris

The gentle hum of Paris waking up filled the air as Ava and Ryan stepped out onto the cobblestone streets. The sky was painted in soft hues of pink and gold, and the chill of the morning was offset by the warm promise of sunlight. The city felt quieter at this hour, a stark contrast to the opulence and chaos of the previous evening’s gala. Ava took a deep breath, letting the crisp air calm her nerves.

"Where are we going?" Ava asked as Ryan led her down a narrow street lined with quaint shops and flower stalls just beginning to open.

"Somewhere without chandeliers or Julian," Ryan replied, his hand lightly brushing against hers as they walked. "You need coffee, and I need to keep you from spiraling before the first challenge."

"I don’t spiral," Ava said defensively, though the faint smile on her lips betrayed her amusement.

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "You’ve been muttering about ’perfect match algorithms’ under your breath for the last five minutes."

"I was strategizing," Ava said, her tone indignant.

"Sure you were," Ryan said with a grin, leading her to a small café tucked into a quiet corner of the street. Its wicker chairs and round tables spilled onto the sidewalk, and the aroma of freshly baked croissants wafted through the air.

Ava hesitated as Ryan pulled out a chair for her. "This looks expensive," she said, eyeing the menu propped up on the table.

"It’s Paris," Ryan said, rolling his eyes. "Everything’s expensive. Sit."

She sighed but took the seat, the warmth of the morning sun brushing against her face. A waiter appeared moments later, delivering a basket of croissants and a small chalkboard menu.

"What do you recommend?" Ava asked, glancing up at Ryan.

"Croissants, obviously. And an espresso," Ryan said, already flagging down the waiter.

Ava laughed softly. "I guess you’re the Paris expert now?"

"Expert? No," Ryan said, leaning back in his chair. "But I know how to keep you from overthinking. Coffee and carbs, Ava. The ultimate match."

---

The moment of peace was short-lived. Just as Ava began to relax, taking a sip of her perfectly brewed coffee, a familiar voice rang out.

"Well, if it isn’t the power duo."

Ava groaned inwardly as Ethan Chase sauntered up to their table, his ever-present smirk firmly in place. He was dressed impeccably, as usual, his designer scarf thrown over one shoulder like he was in a fashion ad.

"Ethan," Ryan said flatly, his hand tightening slightly on the edge of the table. "What a surprise."

"Isn’t it, though?" Ethan said, plucking a croissant from the basket without so much as asking. "You two always seem to find the coziest little spots."

Ava’s eyes narrowed. "What do you want, Ethan?"

"Just being friendly," Ethan said innocently. But as he leaned in, his hand ’accidentally’ knocked Ava’s coffee cup, sending its contents spilling across the table and onto her lap.

Ava gasped, jumping up as the hot liquid soaked into her dress. Ryan was on his feet in an instant, grabbing a napkin and glaring at Ethan.

"Oops," Ethan said, his tone laced with mock regret. "My bad."

Ryan’s jaw tightened, and Ava could feel the tension radiating off him as he handed her the napkin. "You okay?" he asked, his voice low and calm, though his eyes burned with irritation.

"I’m fine," Ava said through gritted teeth, dabbing at her dress. "Ethan, do you mind?"

Ethan smirked. "What? I said it was an accident."

"An accident," Ryan said, his tone dangerously even, "would be tripping over a curb. This was you being—"

"Ryan," Ava interrupted, her hand brushing against his arm. "Let it go. He’s not worth it."

Ryan looked at her, his expression softening slightly. "You sure?"

Ava nodded, though her cheeks flushed with frustration. Ethan was clearly trying to rattle them, and she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of seeing her lose her cool.

Ethan straightened, his grin widening. "Well, I’ll leave you lovebirds to it. Good luck today, Ava. You’ll need it."

As he walked away, Ava sank back into her chair, letting out a long breath. "Unbelievable."

Ryan sat down beside her, his hand reaching across the table to cover hers. "Ignore him. He’s just trying to get under your skin."

"It’s working," Ava muttered, though the warmth of Ryan’s hand against hers did wonders to calm her nerves.

---

The waiter returned with a fresh coffee for Ava, clearly apologetic for the earlier mishap. As she wrapped her hands around the cup, she glanced at Ryan, who was watching her with an amused smile.

"What?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing," Ryan said, leaning back in his chair. "You just look like you’re plotting Ethan’s demise."

Ava smirked. "I’m not plotting. Yet."

Ryan laughed, the sound easing the last of her tension. He flagged the waiter again, this time asking for the check.

"I can pay for my own breakfast, you know," Ava said, reaching for her bag.

Ryan shook his head, sliding his card to the waiter before she could argue. "I’ve got it."

Ava hesitated, then let her bag drop back onto her lap. "You don’t have to do that."

"I know," Ryan said simply. "But I want to."

She studied him for a moment, her chest tightening at the sincerity in his gaze. It wasn’t just about breakfast—it was about the quiet support he’d been giving her all morning, the way he always seemed to step in when she needed him most.

"Thanks," she said softly, her voice carrying more weight than the single word usually held.

"Anytime, Matchmaker," Ryan replied, his grin softening into something warmer.

As they left the café, Ava felt a strange mix of emotions—gratitude, frustration, and something deeper she wasn’t quite ready to name. Ryan walked beside her, his hand brushing against hers as they navigated the cobblestone streets. When their fingers finally intertwined, Ava didn’t pull away.

For the first time in a long time, she felt like she wasn’t facing the chaos alone.

As they walked hand-in-hand along the cobblestone streets of Paris, the morning sun glinted off the shop windows and warmed Ava’s cheeks. She tried to focus on the city’s beauty—baskets of fresh flowers spilling onto the sidewalks, the aroma of buttery pastries wafting from nearby bakeries—but her mind kept drifting to the weight of Ryan’s hand in hers. It felt... easy. Comforting. Too comforting.

"Do you always have to hold my hand?" Ava teased, her tone light but her heart thumping just a little too fast.

Ryan glanced at her, his lips curving into a small smirk. "Only when I think you’re about to run away from the chaos."

Ava huffed a laugh, shaking her head. "I don’t run."

"You speed walk," Ryan corrected. "It’s almost the same thing."

"I’m not speed walking now," Ava pointed out, lifting their joined hands slightly as proof.

Ryan chuckled. "Progress."

They paused in front of a shop window displaying an array of intricate macarons in every color imaginable. Ava’s eyes lit up as she pressed her free hand to the glass. "Oh, look at those! They’re almost too pretty to eat."

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "You say that, but I give it two minutes before you’re tearing into a box."

Ava turned to him, feigning offense. "I have self-control."

"Sure you do," Ryan said, pulling her gently toward the shop’s entrance. "Come on, let’s test it."

---

Inside the shop, the air was filled with the scent of sugar and almond, and Ava couldn’t hide her delight as she browsed the colorful display. Ryan watched her with an amused expression, leaning casually against the counter while she debated between flavors.

"Okay," Ava said, finally turning to him. "Which do I pick? Raspberry or pistachio?"

"Both," Ryan said without hesitation, pulling out his wallet before Ava could protest.

"Ryan, you can’t keep buying everything," Ava said, her tone a mix of exasperation and warmth.

"Sure I can," he replied, grinning. "It’s called chivalry."

Ava rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress her smile as the shopkeeper handed them a small box of macarons. They stepped outside, and Ava immediately popped a raspberry macaron into her mouth, her eyes closing as she hummed in satisfaction.

"Good?" Ryan asked, leaning closer.

"Mmm," Ava mumbled, her mouth full.

Ryan smirked, reaching for a pistachio one. "Let me try."

Before Ava could react, Ryan held the macaron up to her lips instead of his own. Her eyes widened slightly, but she leaned in, taking a bite. Their fingers brushed, and the casual intimacy of the gesture sent a flutter through her chest.

"You’re right," she said after swallowing. "That’s better than the raspberry."

"Told you," Ryan said, his voice low and teasing.

---

As they continued their walk, they stumbled upon a lively square where a street performer—a mime in a striped shirt and beret—was entertaining a small crowd. Mei’s antics from the night before flashed through Ava’s mind, and she immediately tensed.

"No way," she muttered, trying to steer Ryan in the opposite direction. "I’m not doing this again."

"What? You don’t want to relive your mime chase from last night?" Ryan asked, his grin widening.

"Absolutely not," Ava said firmly.

But it was too late. The mime had already noticed them. With a dramatic flourish, he gestured for Ava and Ryan to join him in the center of the square.

"Oh no," Ava whispered, her eyes darting around for an escape route.

Ryan, however, was clearly enjoying her discomfort. "Come on, Matchmaker," he said, nudging her forward. "It’ll be fun."

"Fun for who?" Ava hissed, but Ryan was already leading her toward the performer.

The mime launched into an exaggerated routine, pretending to "trap" Ava in an invisible box while Ryan mimed attempting to rescue her. The crowd erupted into laughter as Ava glared at Ryan, who was clearly having the time of his life.

"You’re going to pay for this," she muttered, crossing her arms.

Ryan leaned closer, his grin mischievous. "Worth it."

When the mime finally "released" Ava with a grand gesture, she made a show of brushing herself off, muttering something about revenge. But even as she glared at Ryan, she couldn’t help the laughter bubbling up inside her.

---

As they left the square, the crowd’s laughter still ringing in their ears, Ava’s mood shifted. The earlier frustration melted away, replaced by something softer. Ryan’s hand found hers again, and she didn’t resist.

"You know," Ava said after a while, her voice thoughtful, "I don’t hate this."

"Hate what?" Ryan asked, glancing down at her.

"This," she said, gesturing vaguely to their surroundings. "Paris. Walking around. Laughing. You."

Ryan raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a teasing smile. "Was that a compliment, Ava Lee?"

"Don’t get used to it," she said quickly, though her tone was light.

Ryan chuckled, squeezing her hand gently. "Too late."

They wandered down a quieter street, the hustle of the morning fading into the background. Ava felt a sense of calm she hadn’t expected, like the weight of the competition and the chaos of the past few days had been lifted, if only temporarily.

"You think Mei’s plotting something right now?" Ava asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Absolutely," Ryan said without hesitation. "Probably something involving a mime and a baguette."

Ava laughed, the sound echoing softly down the empty street. "Sounds about right."

As they turned a corner, the Seine came into view, the water glittering in the sunlight. Ryan stopped, pulling Ava gently to a halt beside him.

"This is nice," he said quietly, his eyes on the river.

Ava looked up at him, her heart doing that familiar, annoying flip. "Yeah," she said softly. "It is."

For a moment, they simply stood there, the city alive around them but the world feeling strangely still. And in that quiet moment, Ava let herself relax, leaning just slightly into Ryan’s side as they watched the river flow.