A World Away (A New Adult Romance Novel)

by Lila Lacroix

  A few minutes later, when the pounding had slowed down into a dull throb, I grabbed the note. It took a while for my eyes to focus on the words.

  “Sophie,

  I am sorry for last night. I should not have allowed you to drink so much. I made sure you got home, and I put some water and pills for you to take in the morning. I apologize, I promise to never allow you to get into that situation again.

  Jacques”

  So that was how I had gotten here. Despite the situation I was in, I was so incredibly touched by his letter. It wasn’t his fault at all, of course. It was mine. I knew I shouldn’t have been in the club, I knew I shouldn’t have been drinking, but I did it all anyway. I could have said no at anytime and I knew it. I felt that sinking feeling of guilt in my stomach, that feeling of having disappointed myself. I put down the note. I was going to have to call Jacques later and apologize, tell him that it was all my fault, thank him for getting me home safely.

  I had been so stupid. What if I hadn’t been with Jacques? What if I had been with someone else, someone who wouldn’t have insisted on getting me back here safely? I was in a foreign city, a foreign country where I barely spoke the language. Anything could have happened. I could have become another statistic. How could I have been so stupid? Why did I take that first drink? I thought it would have been fine, but it obviously wasn’t.

  My mother was an alcoholic. That was a fact. I also knew that alcoholism was often linked to genetics, and that I was more than likely incredibly susceptible to alcohol. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to get into that kind of situation, but I did. I was so stupid.

  I went out and bought the greasiest food I could find for breakfast. I remembered my friends saying that was the best cure for a hangover, and I remembered thinking that I hoped I would never have to know that. Now I knew. I could not risk drinking again. I could not risk becoming like my mother, a drunk who couldn’t even put the bottle down for long enough to take care of her own daughter.

  There are some things you can change in this life, and there are some things you can’t. It’s how you react to the things you can’t change, and how you live your life around them, that define you as a person. I’ve believed that for most of my life. I couldn’t change the fact that I probably have a susceptibility to alcoholism. Now I knew that in order to live my life around that, I had to avoid alcohol from now on.

  When I finally start to feel a little bit better, I give Jacques a call.

  “Ah Sophie, I am glad to hear you are alright.”

  “Thanks. I wanted to say thank you for making sure I got home safely last night.”

  “It was nothing, do not worry. It was my fault, I should have not given you so much to drink. I should have said no to you after you had the second.”

  “How many drinks did I have?”

  “Four, en tout. It was then that I realized the mistake and took you home.”

  “Did I do anything embarrassing?”

  “No, not at all. You do not need to worry.”

  “Thanks, Jacques. I really appreciate it. If you want to do something later this week, I’d be happy to.”

  “Excellent, we will go somewhere much quieter.”

  I hung up the phone feeling better about the night before. I couldn’t believe how nice Jacques was. I also couldn’t believe how stupid I’d been. I hadn’t wanted to drink, but I did. And then I got drunk. I went home to have a nap. This was the worst. I hated being angry with myself, I hated being disappointed with myself. I was better than this. Why had I done something so incredibly stupid?

  Chapter Eight

  Unfortunately for me and my plan to avoid alcohol forever, that Friday Noelle and Claire came up to me excitedly in class.

  “Sophie, you must come with us tonight. There is to be an amazing party, it will be huge!”

  “A party? For who?”

  “Well it is just for partying. Alexandre Robitaille’s parents are going away, and they have a house in the suburbs, it is huge. The entire class is going.”

  “I don’t know…” I started, thinking about the other night. It was so soon, after all.

  “Come on Sophie! You have come to Paris, you must experience life like a real Parisienne,” Claire announced with a flourish on the last word. “What is France for if not for a good time?”

  “Alright, I’ll come. But I can’t drink. I’m afraid I’m allergic to alcohol.”

  “Oh, so that is why you did not want to come. I understand. If I were allergic to alcohol, I think I would die,” Noelle replied, completely seriously, which made me laugh.

  “That doesn’t make me feel better,” I replied.

  “Well, at least you will come. Even if you do not drink, it will be fun.”

  “It will be, I’m sure,” I agreed. My friends accepted my excuse so readily, I started to think it would be fine.

  That night we all headed out together, dressed up, taking the train to the suburbs, the opposite direction of most partygoers who fled the suburbs on Friday night to go to clubs in the city. I was nervous. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, remembering the week before. Just don’t drink. Tell them you’re allergic. It wasn’t like lying was something new to me, I’d been doing it for years.

  We arrived at the house, in a suburb pretty far out from Paris. It took us about 40 minutes on the train to get there. The house was gorgeous. It was basically exactly what I always thought houses in Europe would look like. Made of wood, three stories tall, with a nice hedge and a wrought iron gate lining the front, it was pretty narrow, painted white with small blocks of brown wood along the side giving it a classy look. I felt like it must have been built hundreds of years ago, although I knew this was really just the style in France and it may only be a few decades old.

  It probably would have looked even more elegant if it wasn’t for the noise coming from inside. I looked up and down the street nervously, wondering if we were going to get a visit from the cops soon, but we were far enough outside of Paris that the other houses were far enough away that I hoped they wouldn’t be bothered by the noise. It was loud, but it wasn’t that loud, I was just used to our crowded inner city apartment buildings.

  Claire and Noelle led me inside. The house was small and cramped, much like everywhere else I’d been in Europe. The music blared from the backyard, where it seemed everyone had decided was the better place to hang out. We pushed our way through people towards the kitchen before heading out back with everyone else. It was so crowded, it felt like everyone in our year at the University had shown up. I’m pretty sure I brushed up against at least a half dozen people during the short walk to the kitchen. Noelle poured drinks for herself and Claire, then handed me a cup.

  “I can’t, remember? I’m allergic,” I reminded her, almost having to shout to be heard over everyone.

  “Oh, it’s just water Sophie. This way you will not be bothered by men who try to give you drinks,” she replied. Sure enough, when I looked down, all I saw was clear fluid.

  “Thank you, Noelle,” I replied, smiling at my friend. I hadn’t thought of that at all, I was glad she had.

  Eventually the three of us wandered into the backyard, and for the most part we went our own separate ways for a while. I saw Claire chatting up Lucas, a guy in one of our classes that I knew she had the hots for. I smiled to myself as I saw her with him. He was obviously very into her, and I wondered how long it was going to take for the two of them to sneak upstairs.

  The backyard of this place was huge. I could totally understand why they decided to have a party here, and I thought to myself that Alexandre Robitaille’s parents must be incredibly rich to afford this place.

  Still, going by the number of empty plastic cups and general garbage around (I’m pretty sure I saw what was vomit in the bushes, but looked away before I could be sure) Alex was definitely going to have to pay a fortune to have someone come in and clean it all before his parents came home. I didn’t really know him. I’d met him a few times and
he seemed nice, he was in one of my accounting classes. Right now he was on a plastic table, singing along incredibly badly to the rap song blaring from the stereo system which had been dragged outside, being egged on by all his friends.

  I chatted with a few people, avoided the drunkest of the drunk, and quickly realized that if this was going to be my youth, spent at parties where I was the only sober person, this was going to get old pretty quickly. I looked up and saw there was a balcony on the second floor overlooking the backyard, which was completely empty. How no one had figured out they could jump off of it and be heroes to their friends as they were dragged to the hospital I had no idea, but I decided I was going to take advantage of the privacy.

  I made my way back into the house, eventually clawing my way through the hordes of people still pressed together inside and found the stairs. I made my way up and through a hallway, passing Claire and Lucas making their way downstairs. Claire had a sheepish look on her face, and I grinned at her. It looked like she and Lucas had finally hooked up, and I couldn’t wait to tell Noelle all about their sneaking back downstairs in the morning. A good friend totally spills on her other friends’ hookups.

  Finally, I found the entrance to the balcony and I stepped outside. It’s funny how some things are. You can be so close to something, and yet feel so far away. As I looked down at the multitude of people below, there had to be nearly a hundred of them, all drinking away happily despite the chill in the air (it had been unusually warm for February this past week, apparently, but it was still definitely winter) I felt completely separate to them. I looked up at the night sky, breathing in the cool air, allowing it to flow through my core, and I felt so alive. I felt calm, at peace, despite the complete and total chaos happening only feet away from me.

  I don’t know how long I was up there, gazing up at the sky, willing my mind to completely empty itself. What I do know was that all of a sudden I heard the door to the balcony open again, bringing me back down to earth, back from my reverie. Damn, I guess some of those drunk idiots finally figured out you could get up here.

  I turned around to tell them off, but the instant I spun around I stopped. My body melted. I was staring directly into the eyes of Philippe Vaillancourt. I gaped at him, my body outwardly frozen, while my insides tumbled around. Electricity radiated though me, coursing through every fiber of my body. Desire made itself evident, my sex muscles clenching as I looked at Philippe’s perfect face, sculpted like a Greek statue, those dark eyes, so piercing, so strong, gazing at me. The hardness of his face was broken with a smile, revealing those dimples I liked to see so much. Why did this man have such an effect on me?

  “Hey,” I finally said, hoping I sounded casual enough.

  “Sophie. I did not expect to see you at this party.”

  “Why not? It’s a free country.”

  “Well, I’m not sure why not. I guess I didn’t think you would be a student at the University.”

  “Yes, I’m here as part of the exchange program. What about you? Surely you’re older than me.”

  “I’m a graduate student now. But yes, I do attend the University as well. I never would have picked you as being so young.”

  “How old do you think I am? And remember, no matter what you answer, I have the right to be insulted.”

  Philippe laughed. It was so pure, so beautiful a sound. Compared to his husky, deep voice, his laugh rang completely clearly, and the instant the noise reached my ears I knew I wanted to hear it again. I wanted to make him laugh. Good lord, what was wrong with me?

  “I would say you are twenty two.”

  “Twenty. Off by two years. How dare you think I’m an old maid of twenty two?”

  Again, that laugh. I could feel my body’s reaction, the way juices began to form inside of me when I heard it. Everything about this man turned me on. He was electrifying. I both wanted him to go away and wanted him to take me right here on the balcony at the same time.

  “Why are you up here, Sophie? Why do you not go have fun, with the others?”

  “I don’t drink.”

  “It is rare for a girl of your age to not drink,” Philippe continued, but he didn’t press. I didn’t reply. Eventually, I broke the silence.

  “What about you? Why are you here?”

  “I have some friends, they are down below. They are heavy drinkers, and they desired to come tonight to find some young girls to have a good time with. They dragged me along with them, as I had no good excuse to not come. But for myself, I prefer not to drink. I know only too well the dangers that come with letting one’s guard down.”

  At that last sentence I jerked my head to the side to look at him. Those deep brown eyes were like glass. I could tell he was thinking about something, remembering something, lost in his past. There was pain there. Pain much deeper than mine, I knew that. I wondered what it was, but as a person who experienced some pain of their own, I knew only too well the annoyance of questions from strangers.

  I don’t know why I did it, but I put my hand on his. The instant we touched it was like I was hit by a thunderbolt, waves pounding through me, radiating through my fingers, my hand, my arm and then through my core, taking me over completely. I inhaled sharply at the sensation, not used to this kind of reaction to touching a man.

  “Thank you, Sophie,” Philippe said softly. “You said you were a part of the exchange program with your school?”

  “Yeah. I live in San Francisco, I’m just here for the semester.”

  “What was it that made you choose Paris? Was it the sexy creatures such as myself?” Philippe asked, a twinkle returning to his eye as he posed for me on the balcony in an overly extravagant kind of Vogue. I laughed, and he pretended to look hurt.

  “You’re not supposed to laugh, you’re supposed to find me incredibly sexy,” he teased. Oh, if only he knew how my body reacted to his every movement.

  “I’m sorry,” I teased, “I guess you’re just too sexy for me, I didn’t recognize it.” Again, Philippe’s beautiful laugh rang through the night air. He was all I could hear now. The sounds from down below had completely disappeared in my head. It was just he and I now, both of us here together, alone on the balcony.

  Silence passed in between us. It was as though he could feel the same energy as I did. We looked at each other, deep into each other’s eyes. Suddenly, Philippe leaned down and kissed me. I felt like fireworks were going off inside of me. I closed my eyes as I felt his lips, soft, yet passionate, pressing against mine. I was immediately overtaken with passion. My legs felt weak, I could feel my chest pressing against his, my blood felt like I was boiling. The night was cold, but I felt like we could have been in the arctic and I would have been burning up.

  Suddenly, Philippe pulled away.

  “What am I doing? I’m so sorry Sophie, I didn’t mean to. You’re just so beautiful…” he trailed off. I immediately wrapped my arms around his shoulders and kissed him back. That was all the encouragement he needed. Philippe’s hands found my waist, his hands broad and strong, pulling me towards him. I melted into his touch. His hands being on me, both of them touching me, it sent a fire running through me, a fire unlike any I’d ever felt before. I didn’t know I could even feel this way. I wanted this moment to last forever. I wanted Philippe to grab me, to take me into the bedroom, to ravage me, take me completely. I had never felt this way about a guy before.

  His mouth moved to my neck, landing soft kisses on my milky skin. I leaned back and moaned into the night, clutching at his back. I was so full of energy, I just wanted to move! My hands roamed around his body. His arms were definitely muscular under his light jacket, I could feel the bulging of muscle underneath the fabric. His back was sculpted as well, and I could feel his muscles contract and stretch as he kissed me, his own hands discovering my body, making their way around my waist, my back, and slowly down towards my ass.

  His hand moved up my body and towards my face. He caresses my cheek with the back of his fingers, every little movemen
t of his hand against me making me press against him closer, wanting more of him. I couldn’t hide the way my body reacts to him, and this was so different to how I’d felt with any other man. I’d never felt any connection like this before with any other man, and yet at the same time I barely knew him. There was just something about Philippe, something that made me react like this to his touch.

  His mouth moved back up to mine and he kissed me softly. I pressed in, kissing him back, begging him to force my lips apart. He took his time, slowly nibbling my bottom lip before finally slipping his tongue into my mouth. A small moan escaped me as he did so, slowly discovering the inside of me, and I could feel pressure building inside of me. I felt like I was going to explode if I didn’t get more of him, now.

  Again, Philippe’s hands began to roam my body. They made their way to the front of my jacket, slowly undoing the zipper and allowing the coat to slide open before taking his hands and climbing up my front, sliding up slowly, ever so slowly towards my breasts. As his strong hands cupped my chest, I could feel my nipples, hard as diamonds, straining against the fabric. My chest heaved up and down even as he continued to kiss me, playing with my breasts. I pressed against him. I wanted his hands to rip off my top, to reach under the fabric and touch me, skin to skin.

  I pulled my lips from his and whispered his name as Philippe moved over and began to nibble my earlobe.

  “I love it when you say my name Sophie,” he murmured softly into my ear in between nibbles, and I could only moan in reply. “You’re so beautiful,” he continued.

  I felt like I was going to collapse in his arms. My sex was on fire, clenching over and over at the thought of him, when all of a sudden a noise burst in from the door. We pulled apart, both of us breathing heavily, caught red handed as a dozen drunk students burst in on us, having found a new part of the house to party in.

  I did my coat up quickly, then followed Philippe as he motioned for me to enter the house with him.

  “Would you like to go for a walk with me?” he asked when we were back inside.