Free I See London 1 by Chanel Cleeton

but it was special in its own right.
    Most of all I fell in love with London. I spent my free time walking around the city, exploring new places daily. Sometimes I went with friends, but most of the time I went on my own. It was the kind of place where you could never get bored. It was rarely quiet.
    “Are you staying in tonight?” Noora asked from across our dorm room. As usual Fleur had gone off somewhere.
    “Yeah. Probably just doing some work. You?”
    “I’m meeting some friends for a movie. Want to come?”
    “I think I might pass this time. Thanks for the invite, though.”
    Noora nodded, grabbing her purse. “See you later.”
    My phone rang. Mya. “What’s up?”
    “We’re going out.”
    I stared down at the textbooks spread out all over my bed. I had a ton of reading this weekend. And I was really behind.
    I pushed away the guilt. I could study another time.
    * * *
    I followed Mya down the steps, stopping dead in my tracks.
    Samir stood on the street in front of the building, leaning against a sleek black sedan. Fleur stood next to him.
    I groaned. “I changed my mind about tonight.”
    “Nope. You’re coming.” Mya tugged on my hand.
    I shot her a look. “You could have mentioned that two of my least favorite people were included in our little group.” I didn’t even bother lowering my voice. Samir was a flirty thorn in my side and Fleur’s thawing seemed to have bee a temporary moment, never to be repeated.
    Samir grinned at my words. Fleur just looked pissed off.
    “You wouldn’t have come if I told you the truth,” Mya answered, nonplussed. “Besides, you need a night out. You’ve been way too good lately.”
    My eyes locked with Samir’s. He wore a pale blue collared shirt, sleeves rolled, and a pair of dark Diesel jeans. Flashes of the dreams I’d been having about him assailed me.
    Samir turned to Fleur, a torrent of French escaping him. He didn’t seem angry, but there was intensity behind his words—and a definite chill in her reaction.
    Were they talking about me?
    Whatever he said to her, Fleur definitely didn’t look happy.
    I already felt ridiculous enough, playing dress-up in one of Mya’s dresses, too tight on my curvy frame. Now I felt like an unwanted interloper. “You know, maybe this was a bad idea,” I called out, ready to turn around and go back in the building.
    “You’re coming,” Mya snapped, shooting both Fleur and Samir a dark look.
    Samir said something else in French. Fleur glared at me.
    I really needed to learn another language.
    Fleur turned her back to me, sliding into the backseat without another word.
    “Come on.” Samir jerked his head toward the car.
    I hesitated.
    “Come on.” His lips curved into a grin. “Are you really going to let Fleur push you around like that?” He leaned in closer to me. “Trust me, your best play is to show no fear.”
    He had a point.
    I slid into the backseat next to Mya, glad to have her as a buffer between me and Fleur.
    Samir shut the door with a grin. “Good girl.” I rolled my eyes.
    Another guy got into the front seat. I instantly recognized him as Samir’s partner in crime from the first day on the stairs. Samir introduced him as Omar.
    I leaned back into the leather seat, desperately wishing I were anywhere else. Fleur didn’t talk most of the car ride, staring out the car window instead. Samir and Omar spent most of the drive speaking in Arabic. We ended up at Babel again.
    As we walked toward Babel, I felt a nervous flutter in my stomach. Was Samir thinking of the last time we were here together? Because as soon as I set foot in the club, I couldn’t get the memory out of my mind. At the same time, I couldn’t help but wonder if I would run into Hugh again. It felt a bit like returning to the scene of the crime.
    “Sorry it’s a little tense tonight,” Mya whispered.
    I laughed. That was a massive understatement. “Why are we even here?”
    “Samir called me and practically begged me to come