Foreign Love (An International Sports Romance) (Love in Shades)

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

Now, I’m pacing the floor, scrubbing my hands over my head. Everything is all fucked up thanks to Anaïs.

  But I have to fix this. I have to get my girl.

  Chapter 31

  Lucien

  I haul my small suitcase off of the elevator and down the narrow, dimly-lit hallway. I pound my fist into the door all the way at the end.

  “Lucien!” Geneviève gasps, no doubt shocked to see me. Then, her girl-power shield slips firmly into place. “Julia is gone,” she says narrowing her eyes and folding her arms defensively across her chest.

  “I have a one-way ticket to New York,” I say waving the print-out of my itinerary in front of her. “And you will help me find her.”

  Geneviève shifts all her weight to one hip and glares at me. “Why would I do that?”

  I sigh and glance quickly at my wristwatch. I don’t have time to chitchat with Julia’s disgruntled ex-roommate but she’s my only link to Julia right now. “The Olympics start in a few days and I need Julia with me. She has to go with me. I don’t have much time.”

  “And what about your wife?” Geneviève spits the words at me. There’s so much bitterness on her face.

  “Look, it’s complicated, okay? But I can explain it all…to Julia. Please help me. Please.” She doesn’t budge so I tilt my face so she can see directly into my eyes. “Do I look like the kind of man who would really hide a wife from the woman that I love?”

  She gives me a skeptical look but her stance softens. “Attends,” she says she disappears back into the apartment. She returns moments later with a phone number scribbled onto a sheet of paper.

  “Willow…” One of Julia’s best friends. She talked about Willow and Mackenzie all the time.

  “There’s no way Julia will talk to you. She’s too angry,” Geneviève informs me. “But Willow – I’ve spoken to her a few times on the telephone. She seems nice. Maybe she will help you.”

  I lean in and brace Geneviève by the shoulders and kiss her quickly on both cheeks. “Merci, Geneviève. You’re an angel.” Her face turns horribly red and she fights back a smile.

  She hugs herself against the doorframe and watches me run back toward the elevator, suitcase in tow. “Bonne chance, Lucien,” she shouts after me as the elevator doors close.

  Chapter 32

  Julia

  “Willow?”

  “Huh?”

  “Can you come sit down please? You’re acting shady as fuck and it’s starting to trip me out.”

  I glance around at the dozen or so people sitting in the brightly-lit waiting room. None of us looks particularly excited to be here. But for me, at least, the physiotherapy is mandatory after my surgery. I have months of recovery ahead of me. That makes me edgy enough without Willow acting like a nervous wreck and irking me out.

  She gives me a tense laugh as she moves away from the street-facing window and sinks into the tacky, orange plastic chair next to me. But her eyes are still riveted to the door and she won’t stop biting her fingernails.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you, Willie? You’re sort of acting like a freak,” I say as I swat her hand away from her mouth.

  “Uh.” Her eyes dart to me and then to the door as it slowly swings open. “Don’t hate me, okay?” She slides out of her chair and moves quickly towards the man stepping into the physiotherapy clinic.

  He wears a black t-shirt and black jeans hug his sculpted ass. A black trucker cap is pulled low over his eyes. But it does nothing to cover his sexy, scruffy beard…It reminds me of Lucien’s beard.

  Wait…What?

  Is that…

  “Lucien?”

  The pure shock of seeing him here makes me bounce to my feet.

  “Julia…” he breathes my name as he approaches me quickly, wrapping me snug in his arms. “Ah, Julia…Poupée…” Willow stands off at a distance, an expectant look on her traitorous face.

  My heart trips and stumbles in my chest as he kisses me affectionately on both cheeks then buries his head in my hair, his hands slicking up and down my sides. I look around, slightly embarrassed. We’re attracting the stares of every other person in the waiting room.

  He pulls away to look in my eyes and notices my discomfort. “Viens,” he says simply as he takes my hand and leads me to an empty, sterile-looking physiotherapy room.

  I swallow thickly as he closes the door behind him.

  “You have a wife,” I shoot accusatorily before he can get a word out.

  He sticks his hands out defensively in front of him. “I know this looks bad, Julia. But I can explain.”

  I back away from him, perching on the edge of the adjustable treatment bed in the center of the room. “There’s nothing to explain, Lucien. Anaïs showed me a picture from your wedding. She had a key to your apartment. What else is there to say?”

  “Just let me speak,” he insists, his eyes pleading.

  I have half a mind to tell him to go to hell. He doesn’t deserve a chance to explain. But I stay quiet, watching him lean against the counter beside the sink and gather his thoughts. I see misery etched on his face. He can’t explain this away.

  He has a wife for god’s sake.

  I think back to all the meals we shared in her kitchen, all the laughs we shared on her couch, all the nights that we made love in her bed.

  What Lucien did to me – to her – is simply unforgivable.

  “Anaïs and I have not been in a real relationship for a long time, Julia. For years. I used to love her very much. But maybe she never loved me. I do not think she ever loved me.”

  I huff. “But you married her, Lucien. You gave her a ring and you made vows to her.” It’s incredible to me that he would try to excuse his behavior by blaming it on Anaïs. “Take responsibility for what you did.”

  He’s shaking his head, reaching his hands out to me as he closes the space between us. “It’s not so simple,” he insists.

  I slink out of his reach. “It sounds pretty fucking simple to me, Lucien.”

  He peels his cap off of his head and scrubs his hand over his short hair as he expels a heavy breath. “I meet Anaïs about four years ago at a party for one of the brands that endorses me. I was smitten with her immediately and courted her stubbornly. Even when she resisted my pursuit, I only tried harder to convince her to be with me.”

  My stomach tightens as I hear him describe how he fell in insta-love with this woman because it sounds eerily similar to how he fell for me.

  “She was the most sought-after model in Europe at the time and did not want to be tied down to any one man. But I was determined to have her, so after a few weeks, I proposed marriage to her. She accepted it. She took my ring. But months went by and she made no effort to move the wedding plans forward. Like a fool, I put more and more pressure on her. She eventually suggested a commitment ceremony; we could have an extravagant party for all of our friends and family, and make vows to each other, but she didn’t want to be tied down legally.”

  I feel my heart splinter just a little when I see pain twist his face as the words come out of his mouth.

  He inches closer to me. “Our so-called marriage was never legal, Julia, and she would remind me of that every time she ran off with another of her many lovers. She was never faithful to me and I spent a long time trying to convince her to love me. It never worked.”

  The fact that Lucien was never legally married to Anaïs should be a relief to me. But it isn’t. I still feel betrayed – he never once mentioned her – and blindsided – she caught me vulnerable, with my guard down. All because Lucien kept her a secret from me.

  I finally find the strength to open my mouth. “When – when did you end things with her?”

  Lucien looks away and my stomach drops. “We never officially ended it. We were intimate many times over the years. But I eventually began to take other lovers. She knows this.”

  “Argh!” I groan slapping my palm to my forehead. “How could you?”

  This time he grabs my shoulders. I try to
back away but he won’t let me. “When I met you, I had not seen Anaïs in months. She has a tendency to disappear whenever a shiny new distraction pops up and reappear when things aren’t going her way.”

  Tears are pouring down my face now. “But she started calling you. When we were together in Paris, she would call, Right?”

  He nods hesitantly. “She said that she had no more money. Her modeling agency was no longer booking jobs for her. But Julia, I told her that she was not welcome in my home anymore. I told her not to come back.”

  I fill in the gaps. “But you didn’t tell her about me. Did you?”

  “I didn’t want her to harass you,” he says in a low, weak voice, his eyes falling to the floor. “I was trying to protect you.”

  I laugh bitterly. “Well, that went according to plan,” I say sarcastically.

  “Since the day I met you, Anaïs hasn’t mattered any more. No one else matters. You must believe me.”

  I don’t say anything. I just fold my arms over my chest and shake my head, still not sure how to process his words and my feelings and the world of hurt going on in my heart.

  His face dips close to mine and I can feel his every breath warming my face. “I’ve told you everything, Julia…Now, tell me how to fix this. Tell me how to fix us. I’ll do anything.”

  I don’t move as his eyes blink closed. I sit completely still when his lips search for mine. I can’t turn away as his mouth brushes against mine and his tongue slips into my mouth. I let him taste me one last time. I need it as much as he does.

  When his hand crawls under my skirt, he finds me wet.

  I’m always ready for him.

  But this time, I have no condom and neither does he. I let him lay me back on the table before he slides my panties down my legs, dropping them in a heap on the floor. I watch as he unbuttons his pants and pushes them, together with his boxers, down his legs.

  He slides into me, raw. No barriers between us physically although there’s a fortress around my heart this time.

  He finds his rhythm easily. He’s known my body completely since day one. He whispers soft, pleading words against my skin but I shake them all away.

  But one declaration stays etched into my brain. “I’ve never loved any woman the way that I love you.”

  Chapter 33

  Julia

  I can’t talk to Willow right now. I can’t even look at her. I actually think I might hate her.

  I gave zero fucks as I slammed the cab door in her face, leaving her stranded outside of the physiotherapist’s office on the corner of Broadway and St. Morris.

  Well, she wasn’t actually stranded since her apartment is only about seven blocks away, but you know what I mean.

  I’m furious at her for cornering me into meeting with Lucien today.

  And I’m furious at Lucien for showing up unannounced, all rugged and gorgeous and panty-meltingly French.

  I can’t believe I fucked him today… so I guess I’m furious at me, too.

  I pull out my phone and open my CheekyChat app. I drum my fingers against my bandaged knee waiting for Mackenzie to answer as the cabdriver swerves through traffic so recklessly you’d think that he was shooting a high-speed chase for a Jason Bourne film.

  “Julia Lynn Lockhart!” Mackenzie answers, her avatar sporting furrowed brows and a deep frown. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “I’m guessing that Willow called you?” I say rolling my eyes.

  “What the fuck would possess you to storm out of the physiotherapist’s office the way you did? The man crossed the freaking Atlantic Ocean just to talk to you days before he’s set to play in the Olympic Games and you storm out on him?”

  Wait…Huh?

  “What do you mean he’s set to play in the Olympic Games?” My heart picks up speed in my chest.

  Mackenzie shakes her head. “You didn’t even know that he was confirmed to play in the Games, did you?”

  My mouth hangs open.

  “Well maybe if you had stayed and talked to him instead of fucking him and then darting out of the place like a bat out of hell, he would have told you,” she snarls.

  I look up at the rearview mirror just in time to see the cabdriver give me an incredulous look as he shakes his head in disgust.

  Focus on the road, mister. The way he’s driving, it’s a miracle that we’ve made it so far without sideswiping a delivery truck or bulldozing a pedestrian.

  I pout. “He kept secrets from me,” I say bitterly.

  Mackenzie rolls her eyes, clearly unmoved by my excuse. “Christ, Julia! He didn’t tell you about his crazy ex. You act like he had dead bodies buried under the floor boards or something.”

  “You just don’t understand, Mac,” I whine, silently begging her to take my side.

  Instead she raises an eyebrow at me. “Julia, you know my romantic history better than anyone. When it comes to crazy exes and their crazy antics, I completely understand…I’m just saying that if you love the guy – and I’m pretty sure that you love the guy – you’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. And just for the record, a man doesn’t take a nine-hour flight across the Atlantic just days before the biggest event of his life for a woman who means nothing to him. He loves you, too, Jules.”

  The cabdriver quirks an eyebrow, glancing at me in the mirror. He wears a look of disapproval on his face.

  Goddamnit – even the taxi driver is disappointed in me.

  I swallow a thick lump in my throat as Mackenzie’s words sink in. “Oh god…” I mutter. She’s right. She’s fucking right. “Oh shit, oh shit.” I’m about to hyperventilate.

  Mackenzie clears her throat, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Hey, mister?” she says obnoxiously, trying to get the cabdriver’s attention.

  “Yes?” he says warily, staring at me in the mirror.

  “You’re going to need to turn the car around,” Mackenzie informs him. “My friend is going to the airport.”

  Chapter 34

  Lucien

  “Where the fuck are you, Beavier?” Grégoire’s voice dips low as he hisses into the phone.

  I raise my own voice and balance my phone between my cheek and my shoulder as I hand my boarding pass to the ticket clerk. “I’m in New York City.”

  I swear I just heard Grégoire’s brain explode on the other end of the call. “New York fucking City?!?”

  “Relax. I’m boarding the plane right now. I’ll be in Rio in about 13 hours.” I wheel my carry-on past the smiling flight crew as they greet the passengers boarding the aircraft.

  “Thirteen hours? Thirteen fucking hours?”

  “Grégoire, please. Don’t have a heart attack. I’m on my way. I’ll be there in time.” The Olympic Games officially begin tomorrow, but our first match isn’t for a few days.

  “You have to be here in time for the opening ceremonies.” Grégoire has given up on hiding this conversation from whoever else is in the room. Now, he’s more interested in just ripping my head off. “You’ve missed two days of practice. Need I remind you that you’re behind? You were on the bench nursing an injury for months. You need to be here now. Practicing.”

  My head is pounding.

  I just lost the woman I love.

  I can’t deal with Grégoire’s dramatics right now.

  “Look – I’ve got to shut off my phone now,” I say. “Captain’s orders.” I don’t wait for him to respond. I power down my phone and slip it into my pocket. I pull headphones out of my bag and switch on some loud, mindless gangster rap to drown out the thoughts in my head. I close my eyes and lean my skull back against the headrest.

  Playing in the Olympics was my dream and now it’s right within reach. I’ve got to push through. Even without Julia by my side, I’ve got to push through. I’ve got to fight.

  But without this woman in my life, I’m not even sure what’s worth fighting for.

  Chapter 35

  Julia

  It’s a mad dash through JFK. I grip tightly to the
armrests of the wheelchair as Willow hauls ass through the busy terminal.

  We must be a sight to behold. Me with my leg bandaged and propped up on the wheelchair’s foot support, jeans and dresses and underwear hanging out of the half-zipped carry-on suitcase sitting on my lap. Willow, hair wild and sweating bullets, wheeling me through the maze as the skirt of her knee-length dress flies every which way.