She was right. I had changed. And the life I had been so comfortable with before moving to England wasn’t enough for me anymore.
Because Lucas wasn’t here.
Stupid jerk.
I hated that I missed him.
I hated that I wanted to be with him, even after how crappy he had been.
And I hated that I continued to search for his name on the internet every day. And there was plenty to see.
Lucas Bradley drunk and falling over as he left a club.
Lucas Bradley with women hanging all over him.
Lucas Bradley looking gorgeous as he moved on with his life without me.
I let the tea bag steep while I scanned the latest articles about Chester Athletic.
They had lost their last game. Lucas had been sent off the field with a red card for shoving the ref. There was a picture of him shouting in the guy’s face.
He looked so angry.
It seemed he had reverted to the man he had been when I had met him.
Maybe that’s who he was all along.
Perhaps it was best he wasn’t in my life anymore.
Deep down I didn’t believe that.
“Morgan, someone’s at the door,” my mother called from the living room.
I closed my laptop and walked towards the front of the house. “I’ll get it, Mom,” I told her as I passed.
I could see the shadow of someone on the other side.
I opened the door. “Can I help you..?”
My voice died in my throat and I stood there dumbfounded. Unable to move.
“I’m hoping so.” Lucas smiled and my heart started beating triple time.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered. Something had happened to my voice.
“Isn’t it obvious?” He reached for me but then stopped himself, his hand falling back to his side.
“No. It’s not. I thought you had made yourself perfectly clear the last time we spoke.”
“Morgan, who is it?” my mother asked, her voice frail and thready.
“Can I come in? It would be a long way to come to have a door close in my face.” He was trying to be funny. Charming.
“What do you want, Lucas?” I demanded, not moving. I couldn’t let him in.
He had hurt me when I needed him. When I had wanted his support, he had turned his back. I wasn’t sure I could forgive that. Or that I should even want to.
But my heart thumped wildly. Just for him. Only for him.
“I’m so sorry about how I treated you. I was a total arsehole. I was selfish. I wasn’t thinking about what you needed from me, I was only thinking that I needed you. That I missed you. And when you told me you weren’t coming back, all I could do was lash out. To cut you out before you could cut me out. I acted like a child. I can’t apologize to you enough. But I’d like the chance to. I’ll grovel. I’ll crawl over broken glass for you, Morgan. Just let me in. Please.”
“Morgan, you’re letting in the cold air,” my mother said from behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder. “Mom, you shouldn’t be up,” I scolded.
“Well you wouldn’t answer me, so I thought I’d come see for myself who was here.” She pushed past me, her haggard face stretching in a smile. “Who is this handsome young man?”
Lucas held out his hand. “I’m Lucas Bradley, ma’am.” He looked at me, his eyes earnest. “And your daughter is the love of my life.”
Well then…
My mother’s smile spread wider. She had a little more color in her face and she was steadier on her feet than she had been in recent weeks. “You don’t say. Well come in then Lucas Bradley.”
Mom took Lucas’ hand and led him inside, leaving me to close the door behind them.
“I love your accent, Lucas. I’m guessing you met my Morgan in England. What is it you do?” Their voices drifted off down the hallway and I stood beside the door wondering what I should do.
Mom was sitting with Lucas on the couch when I came into the living room. “Mom, I have to get back to work.”
“Oh, okay then, Lucas can keep me company. Tell Berta she doesn’t need to come by this afternoon.” Mom patted Lucas’ hand. Of course she was completely enchanted by him. He had that affect on all women it seemed, regardless of age.
“I’m sure Lucas needs to go—”
“I don’t mind, Morgan. I’ll stay here with your mother. It would be my honor,” he said, his eyes soft.
I hesitated.
“Go on, Morgan, leave me alone with your young man so I can get to know all about him.” She was positively glowing as she looked up at the man who had broken my heart.
He’s not my young man. Not any more, I wanted to argue. But I didn’t. Because seeing him sitting with my mother like that did something to my insides.
I needed to get out of there fast before I lost all my good sense.
“Okay, well I’ll be home later this evening. I have a meeting at five,” I told her, not looking at Lucas.
“That’s fine, sweetheart,” Mom said.
“I’d like to be here when you get home, if that’s all right? Then maybe we can talk?” He posed it as a question. He was asking. For once.
Against my better judgment, I nodded.
So I left my mother with Lucas and went back to work.
I FOUND LUCAS watching TV when I came home.
“Where’s Mom?’ I asked after I walked in the door.
Lucas immediately stood up. “She’s asleep. Has been for a few hours. I checked on her a little bit ago. She’s fine.”
I dropped my purse on the coffee table. “Okay, well thank you for staying with her this afternoon.”
Things felt awkward.
I didn’t know what to say.
Part of me wanted to scream at him.
To tell him how much he hurt me. To tell him how I cried every night because I missed him.
Another part wanted to kiss him like crazy. To hold tight and never let go. Ever again.
I was nervous. And strangely hopeful. I hated it. I didn’t want to hope for anything where he was concerned.
“I enjoyed it. She’s a riot. Funny and smart just like her daughter. She told me all sorts of stories about you, so it was worth it.”
I groaned. “Oh god, like what?”
Lucas laughed. “Nothing horrible. Though I have to question your taste in hairstyles when you were younger. She showed me the pictures of the failed perm.”
“Well that’s super.” I sat down on the couch, kicking off my shoes. It felt strange having him here. In Virginia.
In my old life. Almost like he belonged.
“You were still beautiful. Even then,” he said quietly, sitting down beside me.
I closed my eyes, so, so tired. “Don’t, Lucas. Just don’t.”
“Don’t what? Tell you that you’re beautiful? Because you are. Tell you that I’ve missed you? That I’ve been a mess without you? Because that’s true as well.”
“You can’t show up like this. Not after how you acted. I knew it would be hard with me not coming back to England. I hated it. I wanted to come back. I didn’t make the decision lightly. Because I didn’t want to leave you. Not ever. But I thought we could make it work somehow. We would have to. For me there was no other option. Obviously you didn’t feel the same.”
Lucas took my hand and I let him. Because I had missed touching him. I was weak like that.
“I was hurting because of my issues. You said you were staying and all my abandonment bullshit reared its ugly head. And I wasn’t fair to you. But I’m here to make it right. Morgan I want—no I need you in my life. The past six weeks have been hell.”
“Not just for you, Lucas. It’s been tough taking care of Mom. To try to readjust to life here. It sucks. You know that? It fucking sucks.” I spat out. Lucas’ eyes widened. He wasn’t used to me cursing.
“This town is a giant snooze fest. And no one knows how to make a decent cup of tea,” I complained.
“No decent cup of tea? That should be a crime,” he exclaimed.
“Shut up. You’re not allowed to be funny. Or charming. Or wonderful. You can’t make me want to be with you because you hurt me. And now I’m here in bum-fuck Virginia loving you and hating you and wishing I was in Chester kicking your sorry ass.”
Lucas looked ashamed. He didn’t tease me about my verbal vomit. He seemed depressed.
“I know. I’m sorry! I know it’s been hard for you,” he said sadly. “I don’t deserve for you to forgive me.”
“So why should I? I’ve seen you in the news. It looks like you’ve been having a grand ol’ time without me.” I sounded jealous. Yuck.
“I’ve been fucking miserable. Everything’s a mess. The team is pissed at me. I’ve been drinking too much. Anna is ready to put me in goddamned rehab. My mum thinks I’m a grade A muppet for chasing you away. And she’s right. You were the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Okay, so yay. You admit you’re a douche. Now what? You think you can show up here and I’ll swoon back into your arms? Was that your plan?” I demanded.
“No. I know better than that. You have never made anything that easy.” His lips quirked upwards in a smile and I found myself smiling too.
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“Making me like you. I don’t want to like you.”
Lucas lowered his head. “I understand. I don’t like me much either.”
“So what happens now, Lucas?”
His eyes pleaded with me. They begged. They made promises I wasn’t sure he could ever, ever keep.
“I hope you can let me earn your trust again. I hope you can let me show you how much you mean to me. How sorry I am. How much I love you. How much I need you.” Lucas cupped my face.
“You talk a good game, don’t you?” My resolve was weakening. I could feel it.
I tried to hold onto my anger.
But it was hard when he was so sincere.
Lucas shook his head. “This isn’t a game. Not for me. Not since I realized you didn’t give a toss who I was. That you only cared about how I was. You make me a better person, Morgan.”
“It sounds like you haven’t been the best person lately, have you? It looks like you’ve been a real wanker.” I couldn’t help but get in that one last dig.
“No. I haven’t. I missed you. But that’s no excuse to be a wanker,” he said solemnly.
“So if I decide to forgive you, what will happen the next time you miss me? Are you going to go out and get drunk and let some woman stick her tongue down your throat?” I asked harshly. The memory of those pictures of him the last six weeks burned in my brain.
“No!”
“You’ll need to prove it, Lucas.” He lifted my hand to his lips, kissing the back of my knuckles. One at a time.
“I will. I’ll spend every day proving to you that I love you. And we’ll figure the rest out. We have to. Because not having you in my life doesn’t work for me.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Oh really?”
He cupped my cheek. “Really. So what do you say? Will you give me a chance to not be a knob head?”
The stubborn part of me wanted to make him suffer the way I had suffered. To hurt the way I had hurt.
But my heart demanded something else.
It demanded more.
“But I live in America, you live in the UK. That’s one hell of a long distance relationship,” I pointed out.
“Just think of all the phone sex we can have. And there’s Skype too.” He kissed me. Slowly. Deeply.
“You’re such a perv,” I muttered.
“But I’m your perv,” he added.
“Oh really?”
“Always.”
Lucas
Six Months Later
I knew she was up in the stands.
I could feel her eyes on me, even from the pitch.
And that energized me in a way nothing else could.
The late spring sun beat down on my shoulders. I felt good. Better than I had in a long time.
It was almost the end of the season. Only five more games.
Chester was mid-table. We had never quite bounced back after the nosedive we took before the holidays. But we won some matches. And lost some too.
I had scored a total of twelve goals so far this season. I was the third highest scorer in the league.
And my team learned to trust me again. That was the most important thing.
Nolan Dubois could still go fuck himself though.
“Lucas! Lucas! Lucas!”
My name was a chant.
The crowd loved me once more.
But their adoration isn’t what mattered. There was only one woman whose affection I craved.
“I’ve heard talk that you may be called up to play for England,” Adam said, passing me the ball during warm ups.
“I heard that too.” I kicked the ball back to him.
Mo had called earlier in the week saying he had gotten the call from the England manager. I’d been called up to play in their next friendly against Germany. It was a huge honor. I still couldn’t believe it. I had grown up fantasizing about playing for my country.
Now the fantasy was real. Everything was falling into place.
I was wearing the yellow band of captain once more. There was no further talk of transfers to Liverpool or any other team. I told Mo I wanted to stay at Chester. I still had a lot of growing to do—on and off the pitch.
“Hey Gov, I saw your lady earlier. How long is she here for?” Craig asked, jogging over to me.
“She’s here for a week, then she has to fly back,” I told him.
Morgan and I were trying the long distance thing. It was hard. Much harder than I thought it would be.
But I hadn’t been lying when I said I needed her in my life—however I could have her.
She had made me work for it though. My woman held a grudge. There were times I could see her looking at me with wariness, but I hoped eventually we’d move past my biggest of fuck ups.
Her mother was doing much better and Morgan had started looking for jobs in the UK again. We weren’t getting too excited, but there was hope that we’d be together again soon.
In the mean time I had spent a weekend here and there in Virginia and she was able to take a week to visit me. It was never enough time, but we took what we could get. I was looking forward to the end of the season when I’d have some time to spend with her. I had already booked a flight to the states for two days after our last match. I’d spend a month with her before coming back for the start of training.
I had brought up pursuing a transfer to the MLS in the states, but Morgan had shot down that idea faster than I could suggest it.
“Don’t you dare. You belong at Chester. We’ll figure something out.”
I hoped she was right.
Because not holding her at night was hard.
But she was here now.
And that’s what I would focus on.
We still had a lot of issues to work through. We were two very different people with very different paths, but we were determined to find a way to make it together.
“How are things with you?” I asked Craig.
“It’s going. I haven’t hit anything in a couple of weeks, so there’s that,” was all he said.
Craig had filed for divorce only days after finding Marla in my bedroom. I knew she was trying to take him for everything. She was taking the house. The furniture. The fucking dog.
It was becoming a long, drawn out, bitter battle and I felt horrible for my friend.
But in some ways he seemed happier. More content. Like a weight had lifted.
Maybe he’d be okay. But I still felt guilty about my part in it.
“We need to get to the tunnel. It’s almost time,” Craig said, heading with the rest of my teammates off the pitch.
I stood for a moment taking it all in.
The crowd.
/> The pitch.
My team.
And I knew that Morgan was up there in the stands.
Right then, I knew a happiness unlike anything I’d ever felt.
I had learned that life was the beautiful game.
I hoped to play it right.
The End
for now…
Lucas and Morgan’s story continues in the next
Man of the Match novel
Coming in fall, 2017
Read other books by A Meredith Walters
This book has been a long time coming. I was told that a romance book set in England wouldn’t appeal to readers. I sincerely hope you enjoy it anyway.
I haven’t published anything in a while, so this book is a labor of love in many ways. Lucas and Morgan have become something special to me.
Thank you to my family. Your support is everything to me.
A big thank you to Claire Riley. Your friendship has been so important to me. You made me believe in writing this book when I doubted a lot. You have no idea how you spurred me on. Love ya, babe.
And to my readers who haven’t given up on me yet. You rock.
A.Meredith Walters is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Bad Rep, Find You in the Dark, Reclaiming the Sand, and Twisted Love series, as well as multiple stand alone novels. She also writes thrillers under the pen name A. M. Irvin.
Before becoming a full-time writer, she worked as a counselor for troubled and abused children and teens. The Virginia native currently lives in England with her husband, daughter, and dog Molly.
You can learn more about Meredith and her upcoming projects and www.ameredithwalters.com.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without express permission.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
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