Chapter Twenty-One

Lucas

“Hey, Penelope.” I avert my face just in time to prevent our lips smashing together, and she sucks my cheek instead. Nice.

“Darling, it’s been so long.” She pouts and wipes my cheek with her thumb. “We haven’t seen you around for ages.”

“We were afraid you’d turned into a recluse,” Khloe adds before she gives me exaggerated air kisses.

“And now you’re off to Spain.” Ariel sighs before brushing her cheek against mine.

Jesus Christ, did Jax invite them? I’ll fucking kill him.

You should’ve told him Violet was special. How was he to know meeting up with three of my exes at the same time is the last thing I want? Especially when it’s never bothered me before.

Why would it? None of the hookups were ever serious, on either side.

I tug Violet a little closer. It’s never been a problem in the past introducing a current girlfriend to a previous one. Half the time the girls knew each other already, so the situation was never an issue. I wait until they’ve finished hugging Yolanda.

“Violet.” Fuck, this is harder than I thought. “These are old friends of mine.”

“Not so much of the old.” Khloe smiles at Violet. “So, who are you?”

Violet stares at her as though she’s lost her mind. “I’m Violet.”

“Are you an actress?” Ariel peers at her intently. “I kind of recognize your hair. I love your hair. Is it natural?”

“I’m at college. And yes, I’m a natural redhead. Although I’ve always wanted to be a blonde.”

Ariel pats her long blond hair. “Me, too. That’s why I go to the salon every six weeks.”

I exhale a relieved breath. This isn’t going badly after all.

“But Spain.” Penelope brushes nonexistent fluff from my shoulder. “I’ll never see you again.”

“God, Pene.” Khloe rolls her eyes. “It’s not that far. He’ll still have parties.”

“I hope all your Madrid teammates will be there.” Ariel grins at Violet. “They’re seriously hot.”

“Sure, everyone’s invited.” Partying isn’t the first thing on my mind for when Violet and I move to Madrid, but it’ll be a great way for her to meet my new teammates. “It’s only a couple of hours on a plane. That’s not a problem for anyone, is it?”

I shoot Violet a smile, which she doesn’t return. I lean in close. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

I don’t think she is, but what’s her problem? Even if she’s guessed I used to date these girls, she also knows I’ve never been serious about anyone but her.

Have I ever told her that, though? Shit, I haven’t.

“Not a problem for me,” Pene says, and it takes a second for me to remember what the hell she’s talking about. “I can fly out any weekend if you give me enough notice.”

“Ooh, there’s Jax.” Ariel waves over my head before grabbing Khloe’s arm. “Come on, girls. Lovely to meet you, Violet.” She swoops in to give Violet a couple of air kisses before disappearing with Khloe.

Pene squeezes my arm. “Don’t be stranger, you bad boy.” She kisses my cheek and gives Violet a weirdly restrained smile before following the others.

“You bad, bad boy.” Yolanda snorts with laughter. “What did you do to that poor girl, Lucas?”

From the corner of my eye, I see Violet surreptitiously check her phone. It’s not the first time she’s done that tonight. Is she expecting a message or just checking the time?

Either way, it’s almost like she’s wishing she was someplace else.

“Nothing,” I answer Yolanda, even though her question was rhetorical. Penelope’s always been a bit of a drama queen. There’s something I need to tell Violet, and even though I’d planned on doing it later tonight, I don’t think it can wait. “Here,” I pull an envelope from my pocket and hand it to her.

She takes it as though it’s a live snake. “What is it?”

“Open it.”

Violet stares at the airline ticket I printed out as though she’s never seen one before. “What…” she begins, then frowns and peers more closely at it. “What?”

She doesn’t sound as rapt as I imagined. Yolanda pats my arm before backing away and joining Mac and some others, while I try to figure out why Violet isn’t wrapping her arms around my neck already.

“It’s a ticket to Madrid.” I feel a right prat telling her the bloody obvious, but this silence is unnerving.

“For me? For next Tuesday?” She looks up at me, and there’s no excited smile on her face.

Is it hot in here? I’ve never had a girl react like this when I’ve given her something. “That’s when we’re flying out.”

“I can’t just fly to Madrid on Tuesday.” She says the day like it’s poison. “I thought you were going at the end of the month. Not next week.”

I resist the urge to run my finger around the inside of my collar. Thank God no one’s close enough to overhear us. “Coach wants me there for preseason training.”

“Okay.” She flaps the ticket a couple of times before gripping it so hard it crumples. “I suppose I forgot about that. I’m just…I didn’t know you were getting me a ticket, that’s all.”

Relief skids through me. Is that the reason she’s acting so strangely? “It’s just a gift, Violet. It’ll be fun going by private jet, just the two of us.”

“Oh.” There’s a weird note in her voice. “Just the two of us? Won’t the other girls be there as well, then?”

“What?”

She shrugs one shoulder and avoids my eyes. “Nothing.”

“Listen, Violet.” I take her hand, even though she doesn’t seem to be keen. “I admit I’ve had more girlfriends than maybe I should’ve, but that’s in the past. You don’t have any reason to be jealous of any of them, you understand?”

She snatches her hand back. “I’m not jealous,” she hisses. “I know you’ve been around. That’s got nothing to do with it.”

I don’t like the way she says I’ve been around, but I can’t dispute her remark, and that doesn’t improve my mood.

“Why are you so upset, then?”

She takes a shuddering breath. “I just can’t believe you thought I could leave England next Tuesday. I mean that’s the middle of the week. How long did you think I’d be able to stay?”

What the fuck is she talking about? “You already said it wasn’t going to be a problem, moving to Madrid with me. What’s changed since a couple of days ago?”

She looks at me as though I’m insane. I have the surreal feeling I am. “I never said that. Move to Madrid? How can I do that?”

I jab my finger at the screwed-up ticket. “The answer to that question is in your hand.”

She ignores my sarcasm. “I thought you wanted a long-distance relationship. You know, where I’d fly over and see you at weekends. Some weekends,” she adds, in case I misunderstand.

Lightbulbs flash. She’s got the wrong end of the stick, and I take her hand again. “No, babe. We decided to fly to Madrid together.”

Fuck, it was the first thing I made sure of when I told her about the transfer. And she was fine about it. Okay, she was a bit stunned at first, but only for a few moments.

“No, we didn’t. What about my jobs? I can’t just let people down.”

“Christ, Violet, you walk your neighbor’s dog, and Sycamore Lodge is only a temp thing. I think you could wrangle it.” If you wanted to. The words hammer through my head, an unwelcome postscript, but I can’t voice them.

What if she doesn’t want to?

No way. She has to.

Because I don’t want to go to Madrid without her.