Inked Love: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Cassidy London

  “Ooh…check ça, elle parle français...” he breathed into me, one eyebrow cocked up and he took a step closer. “Looks like Miss Toronto has some potential after all.”

  “Whatever. In any case, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my run.” I mumbled with way less confidence than I would have liked.

  Chuckling, he took another step closer. He was so tall that my neck was craning back to look up at him. Clearly noticing my efforts, stepped even closer almost suffocating me in his chest. Not that I minded being face palmed into those rock-hard muscles. He was completely encroaching on my personal space and he knew it, the bastard. I could feel heat creeping over my body and an unmistakable bitterness in my mouth. My mind was screaming for me to move, but my feet wouldn’t listen. I was entranced. Frozen in place, I struggled to look up at him.

  “Ma belle Alexis…your neck seems to be a little strained.” He whispered under his breath, his hand reaching around to support the back of my neck.

  The touch of his skin on mine bore into me with such a radiating heat, that I began to feel faint.

  “Three times now we have run into each other unexpectedly. I’m beginning to think that you are stalking me, ma belle.” He winked.

  “You’re insane.” I spat. “If you think that I’m here looking for a summer romance, you’re very much mistaken. I know what kind of dick you are. I’ve had more than my share of assholes like you. Stay the hell away from me!”

  I turned on my heels and marched off in the same direction that I’d come from. Before I knew it, I was running. Full speed running. The kind of running that I knew I couldn’t keep up for long. But I didn’t care, I needed to escape. Unfortunately, the effect he had on me didn’t escape my senses that quickly.

  Finally, I made it back to the apartment. Still in my running clothes, I flopped exhausted on the couch and was just beginning to fall into a deep sleep, when my phone buzzed and startled me.

  I lazily picked it up and held it to my ear. “Hey Ang…sorry I fell asleep after my run.”

  “Well girl! You don’t wait long do you?” came the giddy giggling voice on the other end.

  “What do you mean?” I mumbled, still hazy and incoherent.

  “Well guess who texted me to ask for your number?” she continued in that teasing girly voice.

  “Instantly I shot up off the couch and bellowed into the phone. “WHO?”

  “Shit girl, calm the fuck down alright?” Ang paused. “Listen, I don’t even get why you’re upset. Reality is that the two of you would never work and you know it.”

  “So JM texted you?! I’m not pissed because I like him!” I spat. “I’m annoyed that he doesn’t get that I can’t stand him!”

  The phone went silent for a moment as Angela and I both waited to see who would speak next.

  “Okay, sure honey.” She continued quickly as if to disregard what just happened. “Anyway, I was just teasing you. JM did text me about an hour ago, and asked for your number. But… he said you had something of his that he wanted back?” I was once again frozen inside my own body. I knew Angela wasn’t finished either. “He also said that you were the most irritating girl he’d ever met. So, at least you agree on something.”

  “Holy shit Angela! Tell me you didn’t give him my number? I really can’t stand that guy!” I screamed.

  “Ha-ha, no I didn’t, told him I’d pass the message and you’d call him.”

  I flopped back down on the couch and breathed a sigh of relief. I couldn’t stand much more of this JM for another second. A day and a half in my new city, and already there had been more drama than a reality tv show.

  Chapter 13

  A few weeks went by and I was finally able to say that I felt comfortable in my new city. I had everything I needed. An easy office job had come my way fairly quickly. There was no drama, no heartache. I was living in a super cool apartment, in a trendy area. I even had a social life, (thanks to Ang of course), that rivaled anything I’d ever had before. More than all this though, was the freedom. The peace of mind that came with not having to deal with my mother’s constant fussing, was so liberating. Not to mention, no tiptoeing around Jason and all his Stepford wife expectations. I felt more relaxed and happy than I had in a very long time.

  Of course, it wasn’t like Toronto had forgotten me, as much I had left it all behind. Jason was still periodically texting to “check in” as he put it. After our last phone conversation on the drive up to Montreal, I began screening my calls. This left Jason with no choice but to text. Naturally, I did read every one of his texts, but I never answered. Not even when I was drunk and feeling lonely…

  His texts were always the same. Hope you are well. Let me know when you are coming home.

  Practical, dry and void of all emotion. Typical Jason. How did I end up with a guy like that? I wondered.

  Then there were the two am booty call texts.

  I wish you were here.

  I’ll bet he did. I shuddered and remembered that very last time with him. How on earth did he think that his mere presence in the room was enough to make me hot for him. His physical touch mirrored his emotional state. Hard, cold and void of any inkling of needs, other than his own. His texts served as a reminder as to why I finally stood up for myself. And to my parents.

  Scary as it was, this decision had been the right one. Plus, Montreal was making me happy. I had been hired as a file clerk in a law office. It was an easy, albeit a boring summer temp job. Filing papers, and documents hour after hour. It required very little interaction with people, but lots of time to think about my future.

  Angela had been super sweet, always messaging to invite me out to hang with her friends. At first, I’d been eager to accept. Eager to meet new people and find a “tribe”, as she called it. I loved Ang, but hanging with her friends had become more than I could take lately. She was the wild, crazy, free spirit to my calm, responsible set of rules following nature. One-on-one, we always made it work. We could laugh at each other’s quirks, and marvel at each other’s exploits, living vicariously through each other. Constantly hanging out with her friends though, tested my limits and she knew it as much as I did. It didn’t take me long before I voluntarily took a backseat to her entourage. When a trip to Vermont came up, I encouraged her to go without me.

  Plus, I was proud of how independent I had become. In a new city, without anyone to rely on. Especially not a man. My mouth curved up at this thought. How my mother would hate it.

  So, this left me with a whole week to myself. Other than work, I had planned to log twenty kilometers of training during that week. Having recently signed up for a half-marathon, I was determined to hit a personal record. It would take a lot of work, but I was more than up for it. In just a few short weeks, running had gone from a workout to a religion. When I was happy, I ran. When I was frustrated or sad, I ran. When I was lonely, I ran.

  Today was one of those days.

  Despite knowing all the logical reasons why my choices were the right ones, my emotional state still had a lot of catching up to do. Angela said I was grieving and maybe she was right. I had lost a fiancé and a relationship with my parents in the blink of an eye. More than that though, I’d lost a life that I’d never truly had in the first place. Everything had been a fabrication. A farce concealed by shiny distractions.

  *********

  So, here I was on the first day of my week alone. Ready to run.

  I had been purposely avoiding the Main since that awkward encounter with JM. Instead I always headed in the opposite direction, making my way East on Rachel Street and towards Lafontaine Park. I still chuckled to myself about that first day, when I was trying to find the mountain. I hadn’t been that far away, but damn JM had to stop me in my tracks. That man had made me more nervous, furious and overwhelmed with each time I saw him. Thank goodness, I hadn’t seen or heard from him since. Montreal was my drama-free zone, and I didn’t need that dude’s cocky attitude getting in my way.

  It
was only 10AM and already warm and humid out. Today would definitely be a sunny one, so I pulled on a pair of navy blue running shorts and an aqua blue bra top. Finally, all this running had me feeling confident enough to ditch the shirt and be able to work my tan in just a sports bra. My mind continued to play around with a million thoughts as I massaged sunscreen onto my arms and shoulders. Today would be a long run, so a playlist was definitely necessary. I stuffed my phone and two gel packs into my pockets and inserted my ear buds in as I filled my water bottles. Finally, a few stretches later, it was time.

  I started out on my usual route east. Eventually, after turning a few corners I found myself heading back west again. Slowing to a brisk walk, I checked my app. I was going to hit the Main in another two blocks. Whatever. It’s not like he owned the street. Besides, it was one of the biggest streets in Montreal. Surely, I could figure out how to cross it at another intersection? Making some minor location adjustments that I plugged into the app, I began running again. For a while, my mind just zoned out as I relaxed into the pace and the warmth of the sun on my face and shoulders.

  With each step running became more and more effortless and my brain switched off. I was gloriously “dans la lune” as my old French teacher used to tell me. My head in the clouds has always been one of my favorite places, a trait I clearly hadn’t grown out of.

  As per my luck...my peace didn’t last very long.

  I had only had about a kilometer or two of good running, before I found myself face down on the pavement. One minute, I’d been running, the next I was tasting gravel. In a typical Montreal fashion, I had been taken down by one of their infamous potholes. It was the city of fun, laughter and motherfucking potholes. That should be on every fucking travel guide.

  Shit. I looked around and realized that the street ahead of me was closed off for construction. Typical. Angela’s voice rang in my head… “There are two seasons here-- winter and construction.” And she was right. Everywhere I looked there were orange cones blocking my path. Massive holes in the ground, a bulldozer, and abandoned jackhammers were everywhere.

  But where were the people?

  There wasn’t a construction worker in sight. Construction and road closures seemed to happen overnight in this city. There was a searing pain in my knee and blood dripping down my left arm and across my shins. Exasperated and on the verge of tears, I looked around for a way out but it seemed hopeless. The palms of my hands were scraped and filthy and something was stinging the end of my chin. I was a hot mess. So much for a great run. Now, I just wanted to go home.

  I looked up at the large yellow sign that read “Cul de sac”. Dead end. Just perfect. Looking around I saw two alleyways leading to another street. I couldn’t remember which one I had come from, they both looked the same. Dirty, filled with garbage bins and debris. How did I not notice this filthy area? I certainly had been dans la lune. I shrugged to myself and took a gamble, choosing the turn down the alleyway that was closest.

  Running was out of the question. I tried to clean up the dripping blood with my fingers but it only made me look more like a mugging victim. The sun was beating down hard now and sweat was trickling down my forehead and stinging my eyes. I wiped my brow, only to realize that I’d probably smeared blood across my face. Fuck. God, I needed to get back home before anyone saw me. Wiping my hands on my shorts, I stopped at the end of the alleyway and pulled out my phone to adjust the GPS. Engrossed in my phone and still wincing from the pain of the fall, I was oblivious to my surroundings.

  Suddenly, I heard a sound behind me and a cold chill ran down my back. I looked up to see a big burly man stepping out from a doorway right next to me. His shirt was too short, exposing a large beer gut that flopped over his pants. His clothes were filthy and the stench emanating from him was unbearable. A sick, twisted smile came across his face as his eyes looked me up and down. He motioned for me to come closer as he muttered slurred words beneath his breath. His disgusting scent and my growing fear made me recoil and shake. Just as I turned to leave, his hand came out and grabbed my shoulder, ultimately throwing me off balance pushing me to the ground. Panic set in as I went down, my mind reeling with all kinds of horrific possibilities.

  “Alexis?!” Came a voice I knew all too well. I looked up to see none other than Jean-Marc Dubois running full speed towards me. From the neck up, he was a vision; hair blowing across his face, bouncing sunlight off that damned chiseled jaw bone, a single vein popping out from beneath his inked neck.

  The man took one look at JM running full speed in my direction and he disappeared as quickly as he came back through some mysterious doorway. I breathed a sigh of relief. The look on JM’s face was like thunder. And I had to admit that if I was going to be rescued, this was hands down the guy I wanted to do it.

  The rest of him was laughable though. Was he really wearing a leather jacket in this heat? Jeans… and were those Doc Martens? Had this guy ever heard of summer?

  But of all the people to find me like this... Fuck. I stood frozen. All I could feel was my heart thumping loudly in my chest. This asshole was the last person I needed right now.

  His face was like stone, his eyes boring into me. He came so close to me that I stepped back. Was that concern on his face?

  “Tabernac! Qu'est-qu'il t'est arrivé?” he growled. He was scary as hell when he was angry. Why was he always so angry?

  He spoke so quickly that for once I couldn’t catch his French. His accent was thick and he was yelling at me using words that I never learned in school. I stared back and said nothing.

  “You’re bleeding.” He finally growled in English, as if I didn’t know. “I saw that guy, did he touch you? Hurt you?” Before I could respond, he scooped me up and began marching me back the way he came, cradling me like a baby. He was gripping me so tightly to his chest that my cheek was pinned against the metal zipper on his jacket. I felt embarrassed, and strangely flustered all at the same time.

  “Put me down, you ass!” I spat as I beat my fist against his chest in a futile effort. He said nothing as we turned the corner and marched right into his tattoo shop. Trust my luck to end up right on the very corner of the one of the longest streets in the city that I was trying to avoid.

  The shop was busy. Every chair was occupied with ink stained artists decorating the bodies of their clients. JM kicked the door open and kept marching. Feeling the eyes of everyone in the shop upon us, I whispered, “This is embarrassing, I’m not a child, put me down!” My eyes were glaring up at him.

  He offered nothing but silence. He continued across the shop, and towards a room in the back. As I glanced up at his strong jawline and disheveled black hair; now sticking to his face, I noticed again how striking his looks really were. All he needed was a good shave, haircut and…well, that would totally change his look. Yes, he had the looks of a runway model but what made this guy different was his rough around the edges look. I found myself staring at the ink that danced up his neck until our eyes locked. For the first time since he had scooped me up he looked directly into my eyes, holding my gaze with a terrifying intensity. His eyes were blacker than coal, and seemed to be glowing with rage.

  Closing the door behind us, he set me down on a table. It was high and my feet didn’t touch the floor. I found myself shivering from the sweat that had cooled on my body and maybe even from nervousness? Why did I always feel so exposed and vulnerable around this guy?

  JM pushed my legs open and stood between them, warmth emanating from his body on to mine. His hot sweaty hands left imprints on my thighs and I felt an immediate spark. His arms were crossed onto his wide chest; yet despite the look of death in his eyes, his hand reached towards my face to brush my hair away from my eyes with a softness that I hadn’t seen before.

  “Lex…what happened to you? Who was that guy? Did he do this to you?” he growled softly.

  “Listen, I’m fine.” I began, pulling myself up. I took another deep breath. “Thank you for trying to help, but he was just so
me weirdo. He actually ran when he saw you, so thank you for that. Anyway, I’m fine and I need to go.” I shifted away from him slightly trying to lift my thigh over the other so I could slip away. I had intended to slide off the table and march out of this claustrophobic room. Instead, JM reached over pushed my thigh back down and placed his two hands on either side of me, trapping me now with his face an inch away from mine.

  He stared and didn’t move. I felt trapped. Trapped in this small airless room, trapped between the drywall behind me and the rock-hard muscles in front of me. The tension filled air, thickened even more. Finally, he must have sensed that I needed more space because he silently removed his hands from either side of me. For a moment, I let out a deep breath, that nervous feeling subsiding for just a moment. The moment didn’t last though as he ever so slowly and gently, rested his hands on my thighs. Instantaneously, fire burned through my skin, I needed him to move. I had to get out before I started hyperventilating.

  “I fell down okay?” Making my annoyance obvious. I refused to make eye contact with him. “I was running and I tripped in a goddam pothole okay? It was a very Montreal moment.”

  For the first time since he’d found me on the street, he smiled. His lips curved upwards just from the corners and his eyes twinkled like he understood. Running one hand through that 5 o’clock shadow and down his chin, resting it there as if deep in thought, he nodded. “Okay, c’est beau.”

  I softened under that smile and felt my body relax. I willed myself to stay in control. I was not going to let this asshole use his charm or good looks to sway my opinion of him. Been there, done that and look where it had gotten me. It got you here Lex…here. Shut up brain.

  JM continued staring as his hands went back to my legs and began to gently run up and down my thighs. He didn’t even need to move all that much to reach parts of my thighs that would never normally be exposed. Damn RUNNING SHORTS. His touch was like fire and made me shift uncomfortably. I wanted to tell him to stop but found my body encouraging his touch by shifting and arching my back ever so slightly. My breathing was no longer silent and controlled. My heaving chest must now be apparent to him. I became aware of my breasts and my nipples tingling beneath the soft material of my running bra. I felt them harden as I wondered if he would be cocky enough to let his gaze drift there.