Foreign Love (An International Sports Romance) (Love in Shades) (11 page)

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.

After hanging up with Mackenzie, I’d called Willow and told her to pack me a bag real quick because I’m going to Brazil to get my man, goddammit. I’d then gone online and purchased the last ticket on the only flight heading to Rio de Janeiro tonight. The taxi quickly dropped by Willow’s apartment to scoop her up and the driver kicked the gas all the way to the airport.

“Fuck – do you think we’ll make it?” I yelp, tossing a glance at her over my shoulder.

The poor girl is red and breathless but her pace never slows. “We…we’ll…make it…” she pants, eyes focused on the ticket counter up ahead.

Once Willow has helped me check-in and carted me to security, it’s time for us to go our separate ways.

“Good luck, Jules,” she says as she bends to hug me and kiss the top of my head.

I smile at her, my heart beating so fast I half-expect it to tear a hole straight through the middle of my shirt. “Thanks, Willie.”

She gives me a small wave as she turns to walk away.

“Willow!” I call after her.

She spins around to look at me. “Yeah. Did you forget something?”

I shake my head, then I say. “Thanks for not biting my head off when I acted like a total jerk to you earlier at the physiotherapist’s office.” My voice is small. I hate apologizing.

She gives me the softest smile. “I told you, Julia – when you can’t be strong, I’ll be strong for you because we’re best friends.”

I reach out to her and we exchange a quick hug just as the security guard yells at me. “Move forward, ma’am. Move forward. Time is money.”

Chapter 36

Julia

I’m pretty wobbly as I move through first class, my eyes darting from face to face, searching for Lucien.

When I finally come to my seat, A-25, the airhostess helps me store my bag in the overhead compartment. Thank god I’m on the aisle because my leg is bothering the hell out of me. I definitely over-exerted it today. My doctor would be pissed.

I settle in my seat and continue to glance around, looking for Lucien.

And then, I notice a bearded figure sitting in my row, next to the window on the other side of the aisle. His trucker cap is pulled low over his eyes and his full watermelon-pink lips are slightly parted as he sleeps.

He’s here
, I breathe a sigh of relief. My heart is about to burst out of my chest.

I dig into the pocket of my sweatshirt and come up with an orange lollipop. I poke the stoic-looking gentleman next to me, looking like a goddamned insurance salesman in his beige suit and appalling comb-over. He gives me a skeptical look as I prompt him to pass the lollipop to the sleeping man at the end of his row.

When he finally builds the nerve to disturb the sleeping giant, Lucien’s eyes blink open. Mr. Insurance Salesman hands him the lollipop and Lucien’s face immediately lights with understanding. He pulls the cap from his head and eases up in his seat, looking around frantically.

I give him a small wave and a smile, trying my best to fight back my tears when his gaze falls on me. The flecks of gold in his copper eyes glint bright when he sees me.

“Julia…”

JEWH-lyah.

I want to hear my name said like that forever.

Epilogue

Lucien

Seven months later

“If it’s a girl, we should name her Olympia,” I whisper against Julia’s cheek as she rubs my hand over her growing belly.

She rolls her eyes up at me despite the smirk on her lips. “Ugh. Will you stop it with the horrible, horrible Olympics-inspired baby names?” she groans. She tugs gently at the gold medal hanging proudly around my neck.

I laugh. “But…how about Goldie?” I joke.

She scoots out of my arms and totters off of the bed before waddling her way to the kitchen. “Winning gold has really gotten to your head, huh mister?” She sticks her head into the fridge and comes out with a tub of chocolate-mint ice cream.

“You know that one day we must explain to our child that he or she was conceived on a treatment table in a physiotherapist’s office, yes?” I love teasing her. She’s the cutest pregnant lady I’ve ever seen.

She glares at me. “No, we will never, ever, ever mention the things that happened in that office. The poor kid would be in therapy forever…How much does psychotherapy cost over here in France, anyway?”

I laugh. “The child will not need therapy. Sex in public places – that is our thing. He or she will embrace it…It is his heritage.”

She groans as she sits on the bed. “Ugh. You’re being weird.” She rubs her hand over my beard before she pops the lid off of the ice cream and takes a huge scoop.

I pull her back into my arms. I love having her wrapped up against me. “So, when do your classes start?” Julia just enrolled in one of Paris’ most prestigious fashion design academies. She still grieves the loss of her ballet career but it’s getting easier the more immersed she becomes in her sketching and fashion design.

“I’ll have to double-check my calendar,” she says between spoonsful of ice cream.

I kiss her on the temple. “Well, we are going back to Théoule-sur-mer before you start your courses because my mother is dying to see you again and I am dying to see that sexy, pregnant body in a bikini.”

She laughs. “I love you. You know that?”

I feel phenomenal each time she says it. “
Je t’aime…pour toujours
.”