“There’s no way it’s as exciting as playing for the best soccer team in the world,” I say. “Fred, you don’t have to do this. I want you to chase your dreams. I want you to be happy.”
He’s standing directly in front of me now, so close I have to crane my neck to meet his eyes. He takes my face in his hands, and I close my eyes, tears spilling out of them as I revel in the warmth of his touch, the confidence, the gentleness of it. He handles me like he knows what he’s doing.
Maybe he knows what he’s doing with all this soccer stuff, too.
“Rachel. Look at me.” His voice is gentle. I open my eyes. He searches them, his gaze earnest, intense. “The only way I’m going to be happy is if I’m with you.”
The enormity of what he’s saying—what he’s willing to do to keep us together—washes over me. It’s so sweet, so unbearably sweet.
“Are you sure?” I ask, letting him thumb away my tears. “I mean, I don’t want you to have any regrets. I don’t want you to resent me. You mean too much to me for that to happen.”
Fred grin broadens into a smile. “I’ve made my choice, love. And it’s going to work out, all right? As long as we’re together, everything will be fine. I asked you to be with me before, but I was a coward then. I was a child. I wasn’t prepared to make a sacrifice to be with you. But now I am. So I ask you again, Rachel—be with me. For real this time. I’m putting everything I have on the line so I can finally, genuinely promise you forever.” Keeping his eyes open, he kisses my lips, quickly and softly. “Be with me.”
I’m glad Fred is holding me; I’m dizzy, dizzy with happiness. So much freaking happiness. I get to chase my dreams and have my dream guy by my side while I do it. I wonder what I did in my past life to deserve such goodness in this one.
“Yes,” I say. “Holy God, yes. If only so I can finally watch the new season of Tournament of Kings.”
“Wait,” he says. “You haven’t watched it either?”
I shake my head. “I couldn’t. Didn’t feel right to do it without you. I know how much you like your vampire boobs.”
He laughs and so do I, and then he kisses me hard and well, so hard I have to hold on to his arms to remain upright. The feel of his lips on mine—it’s better than I remembered. It’s better because I know I’ll get to feel it every day from now on, hopefully for a long time to come.
Behind me, the door opens, and there’s a strange cooing noise. Fred and I come up for air, and I stand on my tip toes to look over his shoulder.
A gorgeous blonde woman—early thirties, I’d say—steps carefully into my apartment. She’s got a baby slung on her hip with dark hair and big blue eyes. They both smile at me, a familiar smile that makes their eyes get all squinty.
My stomach flips.
“Sophie!” I breathe. “And Lilli! Oh my God, you came all this way!”
I launch myself into Sophie’s arms—well, the one arm she has available—and start crying all over again.
“Rachel! My goodness! How eager we are to meet this lady love of my brother’s. Lilli has been impatient all of the day for this moment! So you say yes?”
I laugh. “Of course I said yes! Fred is…well, he’s the one. Thank you for helping to raise such an excellent human being.”
“We do our best,” she says, laughing.
Fred looks at me sheepishly. “Thought you might like to meet some of the family, yeah? I hope you don’t mind that they’re here...”
“Not at all,” I say. “I couldn’t be happier. Or more grateful. Should we all grab dinner together? We have so much to talk about…”
“No talking tonight. At least not about anything serious.” Fred says, looping an arm around my shoulders. “We’re going to celebrate instead. I’ve got a case of beer and some koozies I bought at the petrol station waiting in our suite at the hotel. Perhaps we might grab a bite there, then watch Tournament?”
Lilli coos her approval.
I tuck my head into Fred’s shoulder. I don’t think I’ll ever get over how solid he is. How big.
How wonderful.
“Beer and koozies—sounds like the perfect way to our begin happily ever after, no?” I say.
“I’ve got a thing or two I’d like to add to that list,” Fred says, wagging his eyebrows. “But beer and koozies sounds like a brilliant place to start.”
Epilogue
Fred
December—Six Months Later
Madrid
It’s close to nine P.M., but the city is alive and bustling, people high on holiday spirit crowding the sidewalks. Rachel navigates the throngs with ease. I follow her into a wide alley lined with bars and restaurants on either side. A ceiling of white Christmas lights illuminates the people bundled up on the cobblestones below. The air is tinged with the scent of cigarette smoke and roasted garlic.
I take a deep breath, let it out. A smile tugs at my mouth. It’s good to be back. I don’t miss Spain, not really; what I loved most about it was being there with Rachel. And now that Rachel and I are together pretty much all the time, I don’t have occasion to get nostalgic about the years I spent in Madrid.
Still, I’m glad we made the trip. Spain is a beautiful place, especially around the holidays; Madrid is dolled up with lights and markets, and people seem to be in a jolly mood. I’m also excited to revisit the food. An hour ago, Rachel and I tucked into a pretty incredible pan of paella. We sampled some shrimp and peppers, too, washed down with—what else?—a handful of beers.
I give Rachel’s gloved hand a squeeze. She looks at me and smiles.
“Happy?” I ask.
“I am,” she says. “You?”
I bend down to give her a kiss. “What do you think?” I tease.
“I think we made the right call, doing a quick layover. I’m so excited to see the girls!”
We originally planned a trip to Germany to spend Christmas with my family. But all of Rachel’s friends from studying abroad—the Madrileñas—stayed in Spain for another semester, and she’s missed them. At the last minute, we decided to pop into Madrid overnight on our way to Munich. Now Rachel gets to catch up with her friends, and I get to see some of the lads from the squad.
I’m a bit nervous, to be honest. I took the world of football by surprise last summer when I transferred from what is arguably the best club in Europe to a team in the states that doesn’t even have a stadium yet. William Wallace lost his bloody mind; he swore never to forgive or forget. I’m not sure the lads have forgiven me yet, either. They’re doing well enough without me this season—top of the league tables, as usual—but that doesn’t mean they don’t hold a grudge.
“This is it,” Rachel says, nodding at one of the bigger bars in the middle of the alley. A line of people snakes out of the door and out into the street ahead.
“Holy shit,” I say. “I didn’t know Javier was so famous. I thought you said this show was a surprise?”
Rachel grins. “It is. I’ve been under strict instructions from Maddie not to tell a soul. You know his band, The Gods of the Desert, is going on tour, right? Something crazy, thirty or forty cities. They’re on the verge of blowing up.”
“Judging by this line, they already have.”
“Don’t worry—Maddie said she’d look out for us so we don’t have to wait. Oh—oh, look, there she is!”
Rachel waves at a pretty brunette girl waiting just inside the door. Maddie’s face lights up when she sees Rachel. They make a mad dash into each other’s arms and start squealing like they haven’t seen each other in decades.
“Fred!” she says when they’re done hugging and kissing and generally obsessing over each other. Ignoring the dark looks she gets from the people freezing their asses off waiting in line, Maddie yanks me inside the bar and wraps me in a bear hug. “It’s so great to see you. How are you? How are things? I hear you’re crushing it with the team in Charlotte. Rach told me you’re the captain?”
I grin. Is it wrong that I sort of adore being adored by Ra
chel’s friends? I worked hard to win them over after we got back together. I guess I’m doing a bang up job of it.
“I am,” I say. “Never thought I was cut out to lead, but I’m actually enjoying it. Jury’s still out if I’m any good at it—”
“That’s not true,” Rachel cuts in with a smile. “His teammates freaking love him. I mean, how could you not?”
While the squad in Charlotte is still young, and we’re still working on bringing in talent to flesh out our roster, we have won some big matches this year, and attendance has been growing steadily. I’m enjoying my new leadership role more than I thought I would. Makes me think I’d like to be a manager—or coach as they say here in the states—when I retire as a player.
Maddie beams at us. “Look at you two. You’re practically glowing with happiness. They should make a Lifetime movie out of your story. Boy meets girl, boy falls in love with girl, boy loses girl but then moves across the world to get her back. Seriously, it’s, like, the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Being chased by a hot Spanish rockstar—I think that actually might be the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” Rachel says, winking at Maddie.
Rachel told me the whole story about Maddie and Javier—how Maddie resisted him for a while because she was a mess over her parents’ divorce; how he eventually won her over by playing sexy flamenco tunes on his guitar and helping her with her thesis. It sounds a bit dramatic for my taste, but then again, I suppose our story—mine and Rachel’s—is a tad dramatic, too.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“So are you going to go on tour with Javier or what?” Rachel asks.
Maddie shrugs, a coy gesture. “Maybe. I finished my thesis, but I’m already thinking about doing another one for grad school. If I go with Javier, I’ll get to study architecture all over Europe. How cool would that be?”
“Very cool. We might have to crash your party,” I say, glancing at Rachel. “What do you think—should we go see Javier and his band play in Barcelona? Paris?”
Rachel bites her lip. “Yes and hell yes.”
Maddie grabs both our hands and bounces on her toes. “I was hoping you’d come visit. C’mon, let’s grab a spot by the stage. It’s going to be a mob scene in a bit here.”
“Rachel said this show was supposed to be a surprise,” I say as we move toward the stage.
“Yeah,” Maddie says over her shoulder. “But Javier’s lead guitarist—this guy Leo, he’s really great, but…ugh, kind of a mess, too. Anyway, he was trying to impress this girl, so he posts an Instagram about the show tonight, thinking she’s the only one who could see it. The post ends up going viral, and—well—here we are.” She gestures to the crowd around us.
My heart skips a beat when a small knot of people just to the left of the stage comes into view. I recognize Rhys Maddox’s white hat right away; Olivier Seydoux, the team captain of my former squad, stands next to him, sipping what can only be top shelf vodka.
It’s Rachel’s turn to give my hand a squeeze.
“You’re going to be fine,” she says. “Trust me, Rhys is way too into Laura these days to care about your football career. No offense.”
I hold up my hands, my grin deepening. “None taken.”
We run into Rachel’s friend Vivian, and her boyfriend Rafa, before we get to the stage. Rachel and I both freak out because Viv just landed a job working on the Spanish set of Tournament of Kings (it’s filmed in several locations around Europe, most notably Iceland, Northern Ireland, and Spain).
“Is the actor who plays Prince Jacoby really a prick in real life?” Rachel asks.
“How awkward are the naked scenes to film?” I smart at a pointed glance Rachel shoots me. “I’m, um. Asking for a friend, clearly.”
Vivian laughs. “The guy who plays Jacoby is actually a nice guy. A bit of a diva, but very nice. And I haven’t been in the room when—um—you know, the naked stuff happens. But I imagine it is pretty awkward.”
“We’re obsessed with that show,” I say.
“I can tell,” she says.
Rachel nods at Rafa. “I bet you’re thrilled Viv got this job. Probably means she’s sticking around Spain for a while.”
“That’s the plan.” Rafa grins at Viv. “I’d love to keep her here forever…”
“Don’t worry, love, I have no plans to leave,” Viv says, grinning back.
Never mind making a Lifetime movie out of my story. I feel like I’m in a Lifetime movie right now. All of Rachel’s friends are so in love. Like, alarmingly in love. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think they were all drugged.
Is that what people see when they look at me and Rachel? Genuine, sickening, joyful happiness? Because, honestly, that’s the sort of happiness I feel when I’m with her.
I take a deep breath, and together Rachel and I head for the lads. Relief washes through me when Rhys smiles and holds out his arm, the other draped around Laura’s shoulders. We weren’t sure if the two of them would make it—Rhys has always struggled with demons from his past—but tonight, they look just as blissed out as everyone else. Rhys was photographed coming out of a jeweler’s shop on his last visit to London; I heard a rumor he has plans to propose after the holidays.
“Cabbage!” I say, taking his hand. I know he hates that nickname, but I can’t resist.
“Look at this, an American soccer star, come back to say hello to his old squad!” He tugs me into a hug. “How the hell have you been? We miss you, you know.”
I glance at Olivier. “You do?”
“You ’ave no idea, how much we missez our awkward German friend,” Olivier replies, and then he hugs me, too. “Iz there any chances, any chance at all, zat we could lure you back to Spain? Surely this squad in America, it iz good, but not as good as our squad ’ere? I work somezing out for you. And ze squad, we very much regrets not giving Rachel ze internship she wanted. Perhaps we get it for her zis time, non?”
Rachel and I exchange a glance. A beat passes between us.
Then we both break out into shy smiles.
“We appreciate your offer,” I say.
“Really, we do,” Rachel adds. “But I’m already set up with a sweet internship back at Meryton. I’m applying to grad schools in the states, too…”
“And I’m excited about starting a new chapter,” I say. “I love my new squad. I love the role I’m playing. I’m learning a lot—learning about management, about building a team. Learning about myself.”
“Ah.” Olivier’s eyes cut to Rachel. A knowing grin plays at his lips. “Your life together, it make you both very ’appy.”
“Exactly,” I say. “I’m happy.”
“Me, too,” Rachel says.
“And it’s nice to be happy,” I reply.
Rachel looks at me. “It really is.”
Rhys and Laura nod, like they know exactly what we’re talking about.
“All zis love,” Olivier says, shaking his head with a sigh. “It make my ’eart burst. Lovers, let zem love!”
The crowd erupts in cheers as the band takes the stage. I recognize Javier, tall and scruffy in a hipster-rock-star way. I pick out the kind-of-a-mess guitarist; not twelve seconds on stage and he’s already winking at a girl in the front row, tossing his guitar pick in her general direction.
Javier says a few words—words mostly about his “lovely girlfriend Maddie”—and then The Gods of the Desert launch into the catchy single that’s catapulting them into stardom. The bar goes nuts.
So do we.
Rachel and I are both terrible dancers—we discovered that fact not long after I moved to North Carolina, at one of Rachel’s formals—but that’s never stopped us before. We start dancing like the awkward people we are, not caring a fig what anyone else thinks.
On stage, Leo thrusts his hips. Some of the girls up front step back, just a little. I feel the thump of the beat in the floor, in my breastbone.
Rachel shimmies her hips against me. I grin, and
try to shimmy back. Only I end up knocking her to the side because my shimmies are more like lethal boomerangs. I grab her by the arm, just before she launches headfirst into the speakers.
For a moment I’m worried I hurt her. But then she starts laughing, laughing so hard tears leak out of her eyes. It’s contagious, her laugh; I start laughing, too, my ribs aching as I curl her body into mine. God, she smells good.
She smells familiar.
She smells like home.
***
Thank you very much for reading LESSONS IN LOSING IT! I hope you laughed, you cried, you got turned on by the sassy bits. If you got especially turned on, please consider leaving an honest review on Amazon or Goodreads. Reviews help readers find new authors like me, and every little bit helps. Don’t forget to help spread the word by telling your friends about Fred and Rachel!
Be sure to get your FREE copy of book #1 in this series, SPANISH LESSONS, by signing up for my newsletter here. If you like hot Spaniards and even hotter sex scenes, then I think you’re going to like SPANISH LESSONS. Sign up and start reading today! You can read a juicy excerpt in the following pages.
Be sure to check out the rest of my Study Abroad series, too! While I think it’s fun to read the series in order, each book can absolutely be read as a standalone:
LESSONS IN GRAVITY (Study Abroad #2)—Maddie and Javier’s story
LESSONS IN LETTING GO (Study Abroad #3)—Laura and Rhys’s story
I’d love to hear from you—here are a few ways to keep in touch:
Sign up for my newsletter
Friend me on Facebook
Like my author page
Check me out on Twitter, Instagram and Goodreads
Drop me a line at [email protected]
Dear Reader,
Thank you very much for reading LESSONS IN LOSING IT. This book almost killed me to write—it’s pretty much my MO these days to rewrite all of my books a couple of times before they’re ready to be published—but I am very, very proud of the end result, and I sincerely hoped you enjoyed reading Fred and Rachel’s story.
Lessons In Losing It (Study Abroad Book 4) Page 23
