“Evelyn! Step back!”

The voice cut through the bustle of the Parisian street that late afternoon. But Evelyn didn’t have time to turn. Her eyes were still glued to her phone screen, rereading the confirmation email for the upcoming art conference in Tokyo next week.

The blaring honk of a car finally snapped her out of it—but too late.

Someone had already pulled her back. A strong tug, her body jerked backward, crashing into someone’s chest. On the sidewalk, both of them caught their breath, hearts pounding.

Evelyn turned.

That face. That voice. That breath.

“William…?”

The man didn’t answer right away. His hand was still on her shoulder, making...