Angela was an artist. She had been painting from the time she was a young child and always told anyone who would listen that she would be a famous painter one day. I envied her sense of self, her confidence and I wanted so badly to be like her. I never had the guts to though. Until now… I was thankful that Angela had been the one to encourage me to join her in Montreal. She didn’t miss a beat when I mentioned the thought.
“It’s a sign Lex!” she had cried out, excitedly. “Come to Montreal!”
It was hard to say no when she offered to let me use her Airbnb apartment for free for a few weeks. In fact, it was pretty much an offer that I couldn’t refuse. I told her four weeks tops, and then I’d either find another place or start paying her. I was grateful for her generosity but I also didn’t want to take advantage either. Summer was the height of the tourist season in Montreal and I knew she’d be losing out on income.
Her phone rang three times. I was about to hang up when she answered sleepily “Hey…”
“Ang! I’m on the road, girl! Can’t wait to see you!” I giggled into the phone.
“Mmmph…k…how long till you get here?” she mumbled. She sounded asleep or drunk. It was mid -afternoon. Typical Angela.
“You only have three hours till I’m there. Wake up and get your shit together Ang.” I happily scolded her. “Oh yeah, when I get there I’ll have to tell you about this asshole of a guy I just met on the road.” I giggled.
“How the fuck did you meet someone while driving?” she laughed. “What did you do? Bat your eyelashes at a drive thru barista?” She continued. “That’s not considered meeting someone Lex.”
Angela always had my back but she also gave me shit like no one else. This was exactly why I loved her so much.
“Ang, you kill me.” I laughed. “It wasn’t like that! He was a total dick!”
An insanely hot dick…
Chapter 9
As I started getting closer to the Ontario-Quebec border, I began to feel a sense of uncontainable excitement. Finally, I was alone and able to make my own decisions. No longer would I be a puppet to anyone’s crazy games. I still wasn’t sure if this would be a permanent decision but I knew it would be a great summer. That much I could count on.
I smiled and winked at the sign saying “Bienvenue au Québec”, nodding my head to the sign, I spoke out loud. “Merci! Happy to be here!”
Crossing province lines meant I was now only about an hour out of the downtown area and a minority on the road with an Ontario license plate. As I looked around at the other cars, I noticed the words “Je me souviens” on their plates. I pondered the phrase and silently wondered what I would have to remember about this summer after the time had come and gone.
Montreal was known to be a beautiful city but it wasn’t exactly like I had remembered. After passing the farmland outskirts and getting through the traffic of the outlying suburban areas, I was finally closer to downtown. The traffic was horrendous though, especially considering it was a Sunday evening. And the roads! I think I’d gone through enough potholes to last a lifetime. I would definitely need new tires and shocks after this trip. Ang liked to say that Montreal had two seasons: winter and construction. I used to laugh when she said that but now I was beginning to see that it was pretty damn accurate.
I headed towards the Plateau. According to Ang’s Airbnb description, the Plateau was a trendy section of the downtown core that was known for its mix of residential and commercial life. The kind of city within the city where people found themselves living above cafés and small storefronts. Montreal was the equivalent of a trendy, little black dress but with old world, vintage accessories.
I arrived at Angela’s at a quarter to nine that evening. After a ridiculously long time to find parking, I finally made my way up the winding wrought iron staircase to her front door. For whatever reason, there was a bike stand at the bottom of her staircase filled with twenty or so bikes. BIXI said the sign. I shook my head at the idea of paying to borrow a bike around town. Despite the traffic, I’d much rather jump in my Jeep any day.
There was loud music blasting out the windows, and I could hear Angela’s voice from the street. Typical Ang, hosting a party on a Sunday night. I would have been in bed at this time, if I was back home. Although, as I looked around, the party scene didn’t seem totally out of place. In fact, it seemed like every second house was also in party mode. It sure didn’t seem like anyone here was concerned about going to work tomorrow. Smiling at the scene around me, I felt happy. Everything was different here and different was exactly what I needed.
Running my fingers through my hair briskly, I made a quick attempt to fix myself up. I pulled at my blouse and tried to flatten the creases in my beige capris. After all, I had to make an effort if I was meeting Angela’s friends. It only took a minute or two to pull out my compact and dab the contours of my face a few times. A quick slide of lipstick over my lips and I was done. Well, as good as it can get, right? Either way, it was the best I could do after a six-hour drive. What the hell, it’s not like there would be anyone there that I wanted to impress anyway. Not to say that a little summer fun to distract me wouldn’t be a bad thing... I laughed at myself. The last thing you need is another man Lexi. Besides, it’s not like I was going to meet anyone in the first few hours of being in Montreal.
I walked up the stairs and knocked on the door. I waited. The bass just kept on pumping; clearly no one could hear me politely knocking. Oh well. I opened the door and found myself looking down a long hallway. Shoes were scattered everywhere. The place smelled of cigarettes and vanilla candles. I walked in and closed the door behind me.
“Ang?” I called out.
“Angela?”
“Lexxxx!!” Screeched a voice from around the corner.
Angela came out of nowhere; her wavy chestnut brown hair was flying wildly all around her, grinning from ear to ear. She had scarves wrapped around her neck and long dangling earrings that sounded like wind chimes as she moved. Her cut off denim shorts were so short they would have been instantly declared indecent in my conservative Toronto circles. It had been a while since we had seen each other in person. Taken aback as I was, I had to admit they suited her though, even with one perfectly round butt cheek hanging out.
Ang practically knocked me over as she wrapped her arms around my neck. “I can’t believe you’re here!” she squealed.
“Ang, you reek of weed.” I said pushing her off me. “But it’s so good to see you too!” I hugged her back.
“Yeah babe, come out back and I’ll hook you up with some.” She winked mischievously.
“You know I don’t smoke Ang.” I shook my head. Angela had always been trying to get me to loosen up. Clearly some things didn’t change.
“OMG look at your outfit Lex…” She said, staring at me like I came from another planet. I self-consciously pulled at my creased blouse and tousled what was left of my hair.
“What?” I asked innocently. “You have a problem with capri pants?” I said, straightening the evidence of the long car ride for the second time that evening.
“Yeah, they’re illegal à Montréal mon amie” she said only half-jokingly. “If you want to wear those, you’ll need to head over to the suburbs with the yummy mummies.”
Fuck you Ang.
“I see nothing has changed here.” My eyes rolled back at her, as I responded.
Angela’s deep belly laugh rang out over the sound of the music. “C’mon girl, I’ll introduce you to la gang.” She sang as she pulled me further into the house.
Chapter 10
“Mes amis!” Ang called out loudly to the crowd, as she turned the music down a notch. Just want to introduce you to my childhood BFF. She’s an awesome girl, a little on the careful side…” Ang nudged my side as she spoke. “But she’s from Toronto so we can’t really hold it against her right?”
Ang’s friends began to roar with laughter. “My girl Lexi is here for the summer, so let’s be kind, help her to unwi
nd and give her a warm bienvenue au style des Montréalais!” she continued.
Everyone began to cheer. Before I knew it, I had a beer in my hand and a bunch of people all crowded around me. Enchanté was the word that kept being repeated. I always loved that word. Enchanté. Enchanted. French was such a beautiful language. In English, people were just happy to meet you but in French they were fucking enchanted. Okay, okay maybe it really meant delighted but enchanted seemed so much better.
As I made small talk with Angela’s friends, I felt a strange yet consistent pull to the corner of the room. I kept turning my head to see what is was. It didn’t take me long to realize that it was that distinctive feeling of someone staring at you. I looked several times but with so many people buzzing around I couldn’t identify who was doing the staring. An uneasiness began to take shape in the pit of my stomach. Probably just nerves though. I tried to chug back some more beer to quell the feeling.
Then, in one simple moment, it happened. The crowd cleared and suddenly there was an invisible force, sucking me into another world. Like a magnet pulling me into a vortex that I didn't quite understand. My eyes searched for an anchor. Something to identify the feeling of tension that was building steadily. Just when I thought that I was going crazy, my eyes locked on to the deepest, darkest, obsidian that I had ever seen. The darkness held me there, igniting a heat inside me. It was so powerful, that I could feel myself melting on contact. The delicate balance between pure hate and insatiable lust filled me to my very core. My world was about to come crashing down around me. Yet still, I remained frozen in place, unable to look away.
It was HIM.
I watched, mesmerized as a heavily tattooed hand ran through a mass of jet black hair, only to reveal a smoldering gaze beneath it. Sculpted cheekbones, dusted with a day or two of unshaven skin. Those eyes. A complete absorption of light. His gaze held me captive for what seemed like an eternity. The anger inside me was forceful in its command to stop staring but something else was stronger. A deep-rooted need, an unfulfilled desire...I fought to push those thoughts from my mind, clenching my teeth and trying to only focus on the hatred.
With his eyes still locked onto to mine, he stood up. His movements revealed a pair of low-slung jeans that barely concealed what seemed to be the biggest package I’d ever seen. My eyes widened and my breath quickened. The more daring part of my mind was toying with what else could possibly lay hidden beneath those clothes. But I didn't have to think too hard. Only a simple white t-shirt rested lightly over some very visible rock-hard abs. This guy clearly spent time at the gym. Ha! I knew he was a self-absorbed jerk, my mind conceded.
He pulled at his shirt, revealing the slight hint of a V shape that traveled deep down into his jeans. Shit! And if all that wasn't enough, he turned his head slightly revealing a large tattoo that crept up the side of his neck. How had I not noticed this before? I mean, I already knew he was an asshole but did he have to be such a good-looking one? This was going to be much harder than I thought.
Rooted in place, fully conscious that I was staring but yet paralyzed to change it, I could feel that unmistakable heat creeping back up my chest and neck. My face felt flush and my palms began to sweat. My heart was pounding relentlessly in my ears. Despite all my best efforts, a familiar tingling was beginning to travel down my body, settling and pulsating from my core.
As he walked, a smirk slowly appeared across his face. It was a cocky; a one of a kind, real bastard kind of smirk. He walked right up into my personal space as if he owned it. Like a wall of stone blocking my path, he stayed there. I wanted to be furious but instead I felt small and slightly off center beneath this large, stunning specimen of a man staring down at me.
He reached over and effortlessly slid the beer bottle out of my hands. “You’re not really a beer drinker, are you?” he said as he took a swig of my beer and winked out of the corner of his eye.
“I…uh...” I took a deep breath and sized him up once more. I could do this. "Actually, you wouldn't know what I like at all." I said, as indignant and as bitchy as I could manage.
“Is that so?" he continued. That damn smirk was still painted across his face. "Well, in any case, considering your horrific driving skills, it's good to know you made it here safely.” His voice was deep, masculine and raspy and made all more alluring by that damn French accent.
A musky, woodsy smell emanated off of him and it was all I could do- not to salivate. What was happening to me? This was clearly the asshole who had cut me off on the highway, nearly killed me in the process and then blamed it all on me. How dare he be so arrogant and say it was my fault?
I puffed myself up, ready to lurch at him but his words popped my balloon effortlessly.
“Ce n’est pas Toronto ici, hein ? You need to loosen up little girl.” He breathed into me.
Little girl? My mind screamed as my fists clenched. What a patronizing piece of shit!
"Something to say?" he taunted. He must have seen all the subtle expressions my face was making.
I wanted to speak, to yell, to scream at him but nothing happened. Instead, I was locked inside my mind, no exit in sight. Standing there, I started to wonder if it was possible to die inside yet remain frozen like a statue. Maybe he wouldn’t notice me after a few minutes if I had no reaction to him?
“So…” he continued. “C'est Lexi, oui?” His dark eyes bore into me, making me stumble over even the simplest of words.
Finally, I found my voice. “Oui.” I whispered tensely.
Then without any warning, this mysterious half super god, half class-A douchebag, slid one arm around my waist and pulled me into him. His other hand reached around my back and rested firmly on the nape of my neck. His touch felt like fire on my body. I could feel goose bumps instantly forming all over my skin; I was chilled yet burning up at the same time. With his hair gently falling in front of his eyes, he leaned in and gave me a typical Montreal two cheek kiss. His rough stubble brushed up against my face making the prickly flush of heat return in seconds. I could just feel the red splotches of embarrassment dotting my chest and up my neck. My body ached, as I shifted my hips to ease the throbbing pulse in my core. This man was magic. A fucking dangerous, and dark type of magic.
His touch seemed to consume all the air inside my lungs, making me fight for my breath in short, tight gasps. Concealing what this man was doing to me was proving to be a challenge.
“Le nom c’est Jean-Marc. But everyone calls me JM.” He continued calmly, without releasing his hold on me for a second. Those dark pools of obsidian seemed to be twinkling with humor. Was he for real? Was he actually laughing at how uncomfortable he made me? I wanted the world to open up and swallow me whole. If I never saw this man again, it would be too soon.
“Hey you guys!” Called Angela from somewhere across the room. Her voice was faint and faraway but my ears held on to it like a lighthouse in the distance. I was drowning and I needed to be saved before it was too late…
“Hope to see more of you this summer Lexi. As long as it’s not on the road.” JM whispered into my ear, with his lips tickling my lobe and sending chills up my spine. With that, he reached down. Pressing his lips to my hand, he whispered “Enchanté ma belle.” As I melted into the obsidian depths of his commanding stare. His touch was like an electric shock. I felt the zing right up my arm as my hair stood on end. He smiled as he nodded. Seeming to sense that strange something, deep inside me. Something that I myself was barely conscious of. His eyes held my gaze a little longer until the moment was broken by Angela bursting into our little bubble.
“Whoa! What the hell is going on here you two?” she laughed. “You guys look like you’re going to pounce on each other!”
“You know…Lex hasn’t even been in the city an hour yet JM!” She said jokingly, as she pushed him away and hooked her arm into mine. Even with Ang pulling me away and babbling on, I was still caught up spinning around his aura. My eyes stayed glued onto his until our connection was broken by a
quick little wink as he turned away towards the front door.
“Angela!” I stopped dead in my tracks just before we stepped out on to the balcony. “Who the fuck was that?” I exhaled my mouth gaping open.
“Ha! JM? Really? I know he’s hot but he’s so not your type Lex.” Ang shook her head. “You wouldn’t last five minutes with that guy.”
“Yeah…well…that’s the asshole I told you about earlier today. The guy who stopped me on the highway.” I continued, somewhat breathless yet trying to maintain composure.
“No way?” Ang put her hand over her mouth. “Oh shit, in that case you may be in for it. JM is kind of known in our circle as the guy who always gets what he wants.” Angela paused. “As I’m sure you can tell…he has women throwing themselves at him all the time. And typically, they’re all rough around the edges types like him.” She paused and eyed me as if to gauge my reaction. “He’s also an asshole, Lex. Chews up women and spits them out.”
I said nothing. I wasn’t even sure if I was breathing.
“And he’s married to his shop. His tattoo shop” she continued. “He literally doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything else. Guess that’s why he’s the best in the city though.”
“Lex…? You listening to me?” she asked, her hand on my shoulder shaking me a little.
“Sorry. Yes, I was.” I answered, still staring off into nothing. I mean I was, a little anyway. Mostly though, I was hyper focused on the strange tingling sensation that was still running through my body. A high that was unparalleled in comparison to anything I’d ever experienced.
Inked Love: An Enemies to Lovers Romance Page 5