When I wake up I’m filled with so much happiness, it makes my heart swell. Last night… Luc… kissing me… touching me… inside me. My eyes flutter open, squinting against the light pouring in from the window. My right leg is over the back of his thighs as he lies on his stomach. His right arm is wedged under the pillow his head is resting on and his left is thrown over my middle.
His hair is all over the place and his dark lashes skim his olive skin. He’s so unbelievably gorgeous to me, so breathtakingly hot. I gently slide my leg off of him and roll onto my back. He stirs, his arm on my middle pulling me toward him as he rolls onto his side, facing me. His body curls into mine gently.
“Rosie…” he mumbles in a groggy whisper.
I run my palm over the side of his face, cupping it softly, and he nuzzles into my hair and neck like a sleepy puppy. One single solitary thought reverberates in my head—Oh my God, I love him. And then everything goes to hell.
His phone starts ringing from the bedside table. I jump, but he doesn’t move. I have no idea how he can sleep through the sound. The phone must be on the highest volume possible because it’s as loud as a smoke detector. I reach for it to silence it but see the name on the display: “Paul Owens.” It’s his agent. I shake Luc.
“Luc! Wake up!”
His eyes flutter open and focus on me. His gaze turns from sleepy to confused to stunned. I’m assuming the events of last night are flooding his memory. He blinks a few times and then he smiles. It’s soft, warm, sexy and oh so perfectly Luc. I giggle and smile back.
He reaches for the phone without looking at the caller ID.
“What?” he barks, annoyed by the intrusion. “Paul! Sorry. I didn’t know it was you… I was sleeping.”
He drops his eyes from mine and rolls away, sitting up. His shoulders pull together as he tenses. “What? Where? When?”
He’s quiet for a second as he listens to whatever his agent is saying. I can’t make out his words but I can hear his agent’s voice through the phone and it sounds angry. Luc covers the phone with his hand and glances over his shoulder at me. His brown eyes are serious and apologetic. “Can you… I’m sorry, I just need a minute.”
“Oh! Sure. Of course.” I nod and I grope under the sheets for my underwear and pull them on. And just in case I wasn’t starting to feel humiliated, there’s a knock on the door.
“Luc!” It’s Jessie. “Is Rosie in there?”
His head spins my way and he glances at the door, then at me, then at the sheets covering what I know is his completely naked lower half. “It’s okay,” I mouth and grab my clothes and throw them back on, tossing the T-shirt I slept in on the bed.
“What?” Luc says into the phone. “Sorry. I’m having trouble concentrating. What? You can’t be serious? Paul…”
Jessie bangs on the door again. “Luc!”
Fully clothed now, I run to the door, open it and slip out. Jessie and Jordan are standing in front of me, dressed for the beach. They look all sparkly and fresh, which makes me feel even more bedraggled. Jordan takes in my appearance and smirks. Jessie blinks and smiles.
“You spent the night with Luc?” Jessie asks, not even trying to keep the excitement from her voice.
“What was I supposed to do? Sleep in the hall?” I ask indignantly. “Or bunk with you two?”
“Did he give you a birthday gift?” Jordan questions, grinning suggestively.
“You’re a child, you know that? Why does everything have to be about sex?” I ask him angrily and push past both of them to do the shortest walk of shame in history.
I bang on the door to my own room, waiting for Callie to let me in.
“So no sex? Bummer,” Jordan says and he honestly looks disappointed. Jessie, on the other hand, looks skeptical. She knows me too well. She knows that wasn’t a flat-out denial.
Callie opens the door with a bright smile. She’s in a towel and her hair is wet.
“Happy birthday, baby sister!” She reaches out to hug me but I push past her.
“Next time, use his room. His big, empty room!”
“Oh, there won’t be a next time,” Callie responds firmly. “You know me. I don’t do repeats.”
“I’m surprised you just don’t murder them after they’ve served their purpose, like a black widow spider,” Jordan snickers, leaning against the doorframe.
“If it was legal I probably would.” Callie winks.
Jessie walks farther into the room and grabs my shoulders, pulling me into a hug. “Happy birthday, Rose!”
I give her a quick squeeze back but pull away. I’m scared she can smell Luc all over me. I need a shower, not just so I can look presentable again, but so I can have a moment to myself to think. I have no idea what is going to happen next. Everything feels so overwhelming suddenly.
“We’re going to the beach. Cole and Leah are off doing some couples thing,” Jordan explains. “Join us?”
“Sure,” Callie says. “You can wait here while I change or let us meet you there.”
Jordan shields his eyes and lets out a terrified little scream as Callie pretends to drop her towel. Jessie rolls her eyes, spins him around and guides him out the door.
“See you down there,” she calls over her shoulder. “And Rosie, I have an awesome gift for you!”
I beeline for the bathroom, kicking the door half closed behind me. Callie talks to me from the hotel room as I strip naked and climb in the shower. The water feels great. Not as great as Luc felt, but still pretty good.
Callie is rambling on about Avery and how athletic the sex was and how great he was at oral. I barely register what she’s saying because my mind is on Luc. On how warm his skin was and how good it felt to be tangled up with him. It was so natural, we weren’t thinking or speaking or rushing—everything just happened. And it was so… right.
I spent more time than I cared to admit, even to myself, dreaming of my first time with Luc, but in my imagination it was very different. In my daydreams he wooed me somehow—brought me flowers, took me on a moonlight walk or a picnic by the lake—and then we ended up back at his place and there were candles and wine and soft music and he told me he loved me. I thought that was the most perfect way it could happen. Instead, our first time was in a dark hotel room, fragmented by sleep with no real words—just pants and moans and grinding—that was perfection. I don’t regret one single thing about it. In fact, I want it to happen again. It was amazing. We are amazing.
Everything is different now. I don’t have to hold back. I can finally just tell him. I’ve been in love with him for years. I want him more than I have ever wanted anyone—and I think he finally wants me too.
When I get out of the shower, Callie’s lying across her bed wearing a dark red bikini. It’s got a bandeau top and a very low-rise bottom. She also has on sunglasses and black Ugg boots for some reason. She’s a hot mess, as usual.
“So if Avery was so good, why not do him again?” I ask when she finally finishes her story about doing him reverse cowboy style. I don’t know what that is and I don’t bother asking.
“Because I like my life as it is,” Callie explains. “When you date a guy you have to give stuff up. You have to change. Make sacrifices. I’m not doing that for anyone. Ever. No matter how good they are with their tongue.”
I just nod. Callie is who she is. Sometimes I worry about her. I don’t want her to end up alone. I honestly don’t think she would be happy that way, no matter what she says. I think she’s just scared. But for right now, I let it be.
She looks up at me and slides her shades down her nose as I put on my more modest blue gingham bikini. I don’t want every guy’s attention on the beach today, just Luc’s.
“So did Luc let you sleep in the bed?” Callie wants to know, and I nod. “Did he keep one foot on the floor like a gentleman?”
I laugh at that. It sounds high-pitched and awkward, even to me. She sits up and shoves her sunglasses on top of her head. She’s staring at me like I’m the bearded lady at a freak show.
“What?”
“You know, you two really will have to bang the crap out of each other eventually,” Callie states matter-of-factly. “It’s fate, karma, kismet, whatever romantic word you want to call it. The fact is it has to happen.”
I can’t help but give her a quizzical look. “You don’t believe in karma or fate or romance or any of that.”
“Not for me, no,” Callie admits as she gets off the bed and grabs her beach bag. “And if it were me, I would just fuck his brains out one glorious time and never look back. But you and him… You two look at each other and it’s all destiny and violins and crap. Even I can see that.”
“Good to know.” I bite my lip. I want to tell her so badly but I can’t. Not until I talk to Luc.
“I’m going to invite Luc to the beach,” I tell her as we head out the door of our hotel room. “I’ll meet you there.”
“Unless you decide to fuck him instead…” Callie says in a singsong voice as she walks toward the elevators.
Ignoring her, I shuffle the short distance to his hotel room door and realize I hadn’t shut it tightly. It’s not locked, just kind of jutted up against the frame. I push it open. He’s got his shorts back on now and he’s standing by the window looking out, his back to me. The phone is still pressed to his ear.
“It’s not fucking like that, Paul. How many times do I have to tell you?” He lets out a long, heavy breath. “Well, then tell them!”
I’m halfway into the room, my emotions swinging between happy and hopeful for our future and concerned and confused by how angry he currently seems.
“Then I’ll tell them! I’ll call the owner myself and tell them she’s just a fucking childhood friend. I’ll tell them it meant nothing!”
It’s like someone kicked me in the gut. I let out a whoosh of air and then I can’t catch my breath. Luc turns and our eyes lock for a second before mine blur with tears. I retreat out of the room before he can hang up.
I almost run down the hall to the elevator. I want to cry, but I can’t. It’s like I’m in shock. The elevator doors open and I’m about to slip in and escape when I feel his arms around my torso. I pull away but there’s no escape.
“Luc! Let me go!” My voice is nothing more than a broken whisper. Oh God, I do not want to cry in front of him. I’m humiliated enough.
He lifts me off my feet with the one arm around my torso and storms back to his room, only placing my feet on the ground when we’re inside and he’s kicked the door closed. His cell phone is still in his left hand and he’s still wearing nothing but his nylon workout shorts. “Let me explain.”
I try to slide by him, toward the door, wanting to leave so badly it aches, but he blocks my path and gently pushes me up against the wall by the bathroom. He presses his whole body gently against mine, pinning me to the wall. The heat of his skin, the way it makes my whole body tingle with desire, is like a slap to the face. I just heard him announce I was nothing—we were nothing—and yet my body still responds like my blood is gasoline and he’s a lit match.
“Fleur, don’t run,” he whispers against my cheek, so close his lips ghost my skin. “That tactic didn’t work for Jessie and Jordan.”
He’s got a point, but I suddenly understand why my oldest sister took off to college without confronting Jordan when she thought he was still involved with his ex, Hannah. The idea that I’m going to have to stand here while he explains to my face why he doesn’t want me is torturous.
“Fleur.” He swallows hard and scoops my hand into his. I look down at our hands and back up at him. “Someone photographed us.”
“What?!”
My brain feels like someone just threw it on a Tilt-a-Whirl. What is he talking about? He looks down at his phone and starts scrolling through stuff on his screen. A second later, he holds up a picture of the two of us from our first night here, tangled up in each other on the dance floor, his lips on my collarbone, my eyes closed, hands above my head. It looks incredibly dirty… and hot. And my blood runs cold, then blistering hot at the realization that this is on the Internet for the world to see.
“What the fuck?”
“Someone sent it to TMZ Sports,” he explains. “They posted it this morning and my agent is furious. The team management is furious. I’m supposed to be lying low, staying out of the public eye.”
I pull my eyes off the screen, my face burning with embarrassment, and take in the pained look on his handsome face. He got in trouble for this. Holy shit. He steps away from me and runs an angry hand through his hair before tossing his phone on the bed. “They’re shopping me.”
“What?!”
“The Vipers are trading me. They think I’m not taking my career seriously like I promised I would, and that you’re some new Nessa-type distraction. They’re telling teams I’m available. They told my agent to tell me they’ve had enough.” He looks as broken as I felt when my grandmother up and left us. He looks as broken as he did when I had to tell him his mom was drunk in the restroom at his junior game. And it’s all because of me. I knew he was trying not to get involved with anyone, but I didn’t care. I just wanted him to see me as a woman—and to want me. And now it’s cost him everything.
I scramble for a way to fix this as we stare at each other and then it hits me. Callie. I need to channel Callie. I need to turn off the emotion. In the end, at least I got to sleep with him, right? And yeah, I wanted more—so much more—but at least I had that perfect, beautiful moment.
“What you heard on the phone was me telling my agent that—”
“I’m just an old friend,” I interject firmly. “Because I am just an old friend.”
“What?”
I squeeze his hand lightly before letting go and taking a step back. “Look, we both know I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’ve always wondered about sex with you.”
He smiles at that but it fades quickly and is replaced with concern. I don’t give him a chance to speak. If I don’t get this out, I’ll start blubbering like a sad, broken little girl.
“And it was… well… amazing. But just because we got curious doesn’t mean we have to ruin our friendship—or your career.” I try to feel as mature as my words seem to be. After all, I’m letting him off the hook. That’s mature, right? “I mean, that would be crazy.”
“It would be crazy?” he repeats awkwardly and it sounds like he’s questioning that, not agreeing with it, but I’m sure it’s just because he’s shocked to hear this from someone he thinks would be acting like a lovesick puppy.
“Let’s just file this away as a fun adventure and move on.” The words I’m saying make me want to puke, but I swallow them down and plaster a smile on my face. He doesn’t say anything. He just stares at me. I can’t even read his expression. I’m sure he’s fighting hard not to show me how relieved he is.
Finally, he nods. “If that’s what you want.”
“It’s what you need.” I lean up and give him a peck on his cheek. It makes my chest ache so hard I can barely take a breath. “I’ve got to go meet Callie at the beach.”
He nods as I turn and head for the door.
“Fleur…”
I can’t look back at him because he’ll see the tears in my eyes and feel bad so, facing the hallway in front of me, I say, “Sorry about the picture, Luc. I hope it all works out.”
I walk as fast as I can without running and take the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. Once out of the hotel, I don’t head for the beach. I just move along the boardwalk with the crowd, by the shops and the restaurants, and keep moving. Tears streak out from under my sunglasses and I keep my head low so no one sees them.
Worst birthday ever.