Frenched

by Harlow, Melanie

  While I took my big suitcase from the closet, Tucker used the bathroom and finished dressing. Before he left, he kissed my hand and said, “Everyone deserves a second chance, Mia. Even me.”

  Was that true? As I folded clothes and repacked shoes and toiletries, I wondered if I was being too hard on Tucker. After all, he seemed earnest. He’d called me last week, then he flew all the way here, he was saying all the right things—well, most of the right things. He was young and handsome and successful, and he said he loved me. He was sorry for what he had done. He even wanted the same things that I did. Was I crazy to turn down a second chance?

  As quickly as I had the thought, it dissipated. Because even if it was true that he deserved one—and the jury was still out there—I didn’t want a life with Tucker anymore. I didn’t love him.

  I loved Lucas.

  Flopping back onto the bed, I stared at the ceiling and felt that ache in my chest, the one that threatened to undo me every time I thought about never seeing Lucas again. But what should I do? I needed to talk to someone. Rolling onto my side, I picked up the phone and dialed Coco’s cell.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi.” I barely got the word out before the sobs began.

  “Hi! Oh my God, what’s wrong?”

  “Everything. Everything’s so fucked up, Coco. I don’t know what to do.” I lay back and felt hot tears leak from the corners of my eyes.

  “Tell me everything, sweetie.”

  I took a breath and launched into the entire story from Paris to Vaucluse and back again, ending with finding a repentant Tucker in my suite.

  She gasped. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!”

  “No. He was here, shirtless and sorry and bearing gifts,” I said glumly.

  “Shirtless?”

  “He was changing. And then right in the middle of his big I’m Sorry For Being Such An Asshole speech, Lucas knocks on the door and tells me he can’t let me go.”

  “Oh my God, Mia. This is like a soap opera!”

  “I know. And before he has a chance to finish what he was saying, Tucker comes over—with his shirt unbuttoned, mind you—and starts acting like we’re back together. And I didn’t know what to do!” Fresh tears spilled. “Now Lucas probably thinks I took Tucker back, but I didn’t! I want Lucas, but I can’t have him!” I was crying so hard, I couldn’t even see, and my nose was running like a four-year-old’s.

  “OK, shhhhhh, let’s talk this out,” Coco soothed. “Everything’s going to be OK.”

  “How?” I wailed.

  “We’ll figure it out, honey. God, I wish Erin was here. She’s better at thinking this stuff through than I am, but I’ll try to think of what she would say. All right. First, do you want Tucker back?”

  “No.” I was positive about that.

  “Are you sure? Even if he really is serious about wanting to change his ways and try again?”

  “Even then. I don’t love him anymore. And you know what?” I sniffed as the realization hit me. “I forgive him completely. I’m not angry anymore, and I know he did the right thing. Maybe the way he did it was shitty, but even so. I wouldn’t have had the strength to call it off, and I’m glad he did.”

  “OK, that’s good. No anger, plus forgiveness, is progress. Now what about Lucas?”

  I sighed. “I think I’m in love with him. For real.”

  “You do?”

  I smiled through my tears. “Yes. I do, I love him.”

  “How do you think he feels?”

  “I’m not sure. I mean, he didn’t say he loved me or anything, but he sort of got interrupted right in the middle of what sounded like a promising speech. But Coco, he doesn’t want to get married. He doesn’t want a family.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because he told me. Even before we admitted having feelings for each other, he said he never wants to get married. And even afterward, when we talked about the way we felt, he said he couldn’t promise anything.”

  “Well, what the hell would he have to promise?”

  I blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you just met this guy, like, six days ago.”

  “Five.”

  “Right, five. And you fell for each other right away, so fast you probably didn’t even have time to breathe.”

  I exhaled. “Yes. Breathing here has been difficult.”

  “And he’s telling you he has feelings for you, feelings he’s never had for anyone before, even though he dated someone for years. And he’s willing to try to make it work between you, even though it would be long distance and he knows you hate to fly, which means he would be coming to see you a lot.”

  “Well, yes, I guess so, but—”

  “And you’re expecting him to process all those feelings, tell you where you guys will be a year from now, or even six months from now, and also make a promise to you that he’ll consider marriage before you guys have even tried dating?”

  When she said it that way, I felt foolish and demanding. But weren’t my feelings valid? “I wasn’t asking him to propose or anything. I was just asking if he’d reconsider his viewpoint on marriage. That’s fair, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know, Mia. I mean, I love you, you know I do. And I want you to have everything you’ve ever wanted. But your demands here sound a little extreme.”

  “They’re not demands, they’re dreams!” Coco sounded like Lucas, and it was making me angry. “I’m allowed to have dreams.”

  “Calm down, Mia. Yes, you’re allowed to have dreams. But if all that mattered about your dream was getting married and having a nice house and family, frankly you could just marry Tucker and be done with it. But I know you—you want more.”

  She was right. I did want more. Chewing my bottom lip, I tried to find words to defend my point of view and couldn’t.

  “Look,” she went on, “remember when we first had the crazy scheme to start our own business? We had all those ridiculous plans and imagined ourselves in a luxury penthouse office designing gala after gala for hoity-toity people with deep pockets. But it didn’t go that way, did it?”

  “Not at first,” I admitted. “But what does that have to do with this?”

  “Because our dream had to adjust to real life. We took any gig we could get, and we worked from your apartment, and we didn’t make any real money for a year and a half. And frankly, we didn’t know for sure if we’d ever make money—we had faith in our talent and the willingness to put in the work, but that was it. There was no promise of success.”

  “But we had it all thought out,” I said, even though I was beginning to understand the connection. “We mapped out a business plan in minute detail. We had projections. I had lists! I have nothing to go on with Lucas. Nothing! That terrifies me.”

  “You have everything you need to go on, Mia.” The edge was gone from her voice now. “You have your feelings, you have his willingness to try, you have fanfuckingtastic sex.”

  “We do.” Just thinking about it made my blood warm.

  “Well, then stop it with the projections and the fucking lists. I think he deserves a little more faith. I think you should give him a chance. After all, maybe you won’t even want to marry him after dating for a while. How can you know for certain how you’ll feel in the future?”

  “God, Coco. Are you really taking his side?” I was half teasing, but she answered me seriously.

  “I’m on your side, and you know it. I would never tell you to do this if I thought it wasn’t what you really wanted. But I can hear it in your voice, Mia. You want him. And there’s no reason you can’t have him. If this thing between you two turns out to be as amazing as it sounds, then you’ll find a way to make it work between you. Forget about marriage and family and just get to know each other better. Fall in love completely. Let fate take over.”

  Fate again. “You really believe in that?”

  “I do. Everything happens for a reason, Mia. You know I have a sense about these things, and
I’ve always felt you were supposed to be in Paris this week. I just didn’t know why until now. Go find him.”

  My stomach flipped. Could I really do this? I was scared, but the thought of embarking on an unknown journey with Lucas was exciting too. Anything was possible. “OK. I will.”

  She squealed in my ear. “Good girl! Call me when you can, OK? Erin’s still planning on picking you up Tuesday, so let me know if anything changes.”

  “Like if I decide to move to Paris?”

  “Don’t even kid about that,” she said seriously. “We have a business here to run and I’m lost without you. Get your derrière back here on Tuesday.”

  We hung up, and I sat on the bed for a moment. My heart was beating way too fast. I put one hand over it and breathed in and out. A million thoughts raced through my head—I needed a plan, a list. Yes, that was it. I could still hear Coco admonishing me to stop it with the fucking lists, but they comforted me, and I needed something that felt familiar right now.

  To Do List For Turning Life Upside Down

  1) Accept Tucker’s apology. Say goodbye.

  2) Find Lucas. Declare love.

  3) Find a place to stay. (If all goes well with #1, perhaps this will take care of itself.)

  4) Have sex with Lucas.

  5) Do it again. Many times. For three days straight.

  Locking myself in the bathroom in case Tucker decided to show up again, I showered and changed, throwing the pink sweater Lucas remembered from the cemetery over my shoulders. As my hair dried, I finished packing and went over my list again and again. Item one made me a little queasy, but items two through five put a grin on my face every time.

  God, I loved lists. I’d never fucking stop.

  With one last look around the suite to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything, I pulled the door open and charged out with no regrets.

  Well, maybe one.

  That Chanel bag was adorable.

  “You’re making a mistake.” Tucker set down his coffee cup and looked me dead in the eye.

  “That may be,” I said, exhaling, “but it’s my mistake to make.”

  He stared at his hand on the cup handle. “Tell me what you want to hear. I’ll say it.”

  “That you respect my decision and you’ll leave me alone. That you’ll find someone else and treat her better from the start.” I put my hand on his wrist. “That you’ll love someone more than you loved me. And you’ll show her that.”

  Tucker looked up at me, and I took my hand away. “I still love you. And I’m sorry.”

  “I accept your apology. And I’m not angry.”

  Nodding slowly, he looked so miserable I almost felt bad. Almost.

  “A word of advice, Tucker. Don’t post shit about your bad behavior on social media. It’s tacky.”

  His fair complexion flushed. “God. My friends are such assholes.”

  “I’d say they share the blame. Goodbye, Tucker.”

  He said nothing, just kept staring at his coffee, likely in shock that he’d been rejected. Poor guy had probably never had that happen before.

  First time for everything.

  #

  I contemplated leaving my luggage in storage at the Plaza, but in the end decided to drag it with me to The Beaver. If things went badly with Lucas, I could go straight to the airport, and if they went well…stomach clench…maybe I could go straight to his apartment.

  It was raining again, so instead of traipsing through the rain to the Metro with all my stuff, I took a cab to The Beaver. It was only five o’clock, and I had no idea what time his shift started, but if he wasn’t there, I’d build a fucking campfire and wait. I’d wait all night long for him.

  Despite my confidence in the decision, my anxiety returned as soon as I saw the familiar awning and sign out front. I remembered standing in front of it the first night I was here and how much I dreaded walking in to find a whole lot of couples in love inside. And now here I was about to go in and declare my love and throw myself in Lucas’s arms. Maybe years from now we’ll be telling this story to our children.

  Gah! Stop it! No children!

  I paid the driver and he helped unload my bags onto the curb, then left me standing there in the rain with dripping hair and live wire nerves. Was Lucas inside? I couldn’t see through the glass.

  Come on, Mia. Be brave.

  But I needed a minute. Filling my lungs with damp air, I inhaled and exhaled, composing myself. And for the first time, I saw there was another bar right next to The Beaver called Bar Petite. It looked more upscale, prettier, more French than Lucas’s bar. In fact, if I were choosing between the two of them based on looks alone, I would have chosen the other. But I hadn’t even noticed it Monday night. I hadn’t even looked around, really. I’d stopped in front of The Beaver, read the sign, and barged in.

  Maybe Coco is right about fate. I reached for the door.

  Now, in a movie, this is a great scene. The heroine pulls open the door, rushes in looking windswept and breathless and hopelessly beautiful, and the hero strides forward and takes her in his arms. Kissing ensues.

  My entrance into The Beaver? Not so much.

  For one thing, the fucking door to The Beaver is heavy and I was trying to prop it open and drag two suitcases through, but my one leg wasn’t strong enough to hold it. I struggled awkwardly for several minutes, feeling like every eye in the place was on me. Shit, why had I thought bringing my luggage was a good idea? My hair was dripping in my eyes and I had no free hand to wipe my face, so by the time I managed to squeeze myself and my stupid baggage through the door, I looked like a soggy mess, I couldn’t even see, and one of my heavy-ass suitcases tipped over, blocking the entrance.

  I reached for it, stumbling over the other bag, but managed to pull it upright and drag myself and my luggage further into the bar. Oh my God, please don’t let him be watching this.

  But he was. Of course he was, everyone was.

  Once I’d wiped the rain off my face, I looked across the bar, and my heart blew up in my chest at the sight of him. His eyes were wide with surprise but I also saw a hint of amusement.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Hi.” He stayed where he was, filling a glass at the tap.

  “I’m looking for someone.” I walked toward him, leaving my bags where they were.

  He set the beer down in front of a customer who was watching the scene with interest. “You are?”

  “Yes. And I found him. It’s you.”

  “You sure about that?” Lucas grabbed a clean towel from under the bar and tossed it to me.

  I wiped my face and nodded. “I’m positive, Lucas.”

  His eyes softened. “Give me one minute.” He disappeared through a door at the end of the bar, and I tried to pull my bags more out of the way. In a moment, he appeared at my side. “Mia.”

  I had planned to apologize, explain what Tucker was doing in my room, tell Lucas I loved him and I wanted to try to make it work, but when he stood there in front of me and said my name that way, like he was afraid I wasn’t real, all words failed me.

  “Nothing to say? That’s not like you.” He smiled at me before reaching for my luggage, and shoving it out of the way underneath the bar.

  “Sorry.” I flapped my hands. “I’m all…flustered.” Jeez, Mia, pull yourself together. “And wet.”

  He grinned. “You love the rain now, remember?”

  At the memory of kissing him in the rain, my lips stretched wide. “I love it when I’m with you. And I want to be with you all the time.”

  “Yeah?”

  I nodded, my heart swelling inside my chest. “Yeah. I’m sorry I sent you away before. Tucker showed up, and I was right in the middle of turning him down when you—”

  “He wants you back?” Lucas’s eyes went hard.

  “He does. But I’m not interested.” I took a deep breath. “I want you, Lucas. I want to try to make it work. Because I’m in love with you.”

  Instead of saying anything, Lu
cas grabbed my head in his hands and crushed his mouth to mine. He held me there for a moment, during which some random Beaver patrons applauded and whooped.

  “Yeah, Lucas!” hollered a loud male voice.

  I couldn’t help laughing, and Lucas broke the kiss. “We have a bit of an audience,” I said.

  He rolled his eyes. “It’s a few friends of mine.”

  “Introduce me?”

  “Of course. Come sit down. Are you—where are you staying now?” He looked at me with concern.

  I shrugged. “Not sure. Maybe you can recommend a hotel a little less expensive than the Plaza? I have three more nights here.” Behind my back I crossed my fingers.

  “As if I’d let you stay anywhere else but with me. You’ve only got three days, and I want to spend every moment possible with you. If you want me to.”

  I beamed, my entire body tingling. “I want you to.”

  He pulled me into a hug, burying his face in my wet hair. “God, I love the way you smell,” he said softly. “I can’t wait to get you alone.”

  My thoughts exactly.

  #

  After a burger and fries and several glasses of wine, I got in a cab with Lucas’s keys in my pocket. He’d meet me at his apartment after his shift.

  Letting myself into Lucas’s apartment without him felt strange but thrilling. If I hadn’t been so exhausted, I might have been tempted to snoop around a bit, try to get to know him better, but the moment I was inside, I went straight for the bed and collapsed, face planted into a pillow.

  I woke up two hours later, and Lucas’s bedroom clock told me it was nearly eleven. His shift ended at midnight, so I jumped out of bed and got into the shower. I wanted to be ready and waiting for him when he got home.

  The moment I stepped naked under the spray, I was struck with memories so vivid my body’s reaction was visceral. I had to close my eyes and lean against the wall while my head swam with sensory perceptions. Steam rising. Wet bodies sliding against one another. Hot back on cool tile. Lucas buried deep inside me.

  Oh, fuck.

  I was so turned on I nearly lost myself to it. Only the thought of Lucas coming home soon propelled me to grab the shampoo, wash my hair, soap up and rinse off as quickly as I could.