Page 69 of Frenched (Frenched 1)
It was pretty fucking perfect.
So perfect that I began to feel uneasy about the peace I’d made with the fact that this thing with Lucas, whatever it was, had to end soon. So perfect that every time he opened his mouth to speak I held my breath, hoping he’d mention something about seeing me again. So perfect that when I noticed Lucas had drifted off to sleep, I set the book down and studied his face, feeling the need to memorize every feature. The way one eyebrow arced higher than the other. The way his scruff covered the dimples that appeared when he smiled. The plump lips and square jaw. The dark lashes fanning down toward chiseled cheekbones.
Oh shit.
Five Inappropriate Thoughts I Had In The Olive Grove
1) His face is so goddamn beautiful, and I fucking straddled it last night!
2) Wonder when I can do that again.
3) Would it be rude to wake him up for sex?
4) What the hell am I going to do when I have to go home to my real life?
5) I’m going to miss him so fucking much.
A warm breeze blew his curls over his forehead, and I brushed them back again and again, finally admitting to myself what I’d been trying so hard to deny.
I’m going to miss him because I’m in love with him. It’s crazy and stupid and not practical and totally too fast and bound to end badly—but it’s real.
It didn’t matter what I called it—friends-with-benefits, fuck fling, rebound thing... What mattered was the way I felt when I was with him. The way he made me feel like I could do anything, say anything in my head, have anything I wanted. He was teaching me things about my body and desires I’d never known. He was teaching me about the beauty of living for the moment. He was teaching me not to worry so much about what things looked like, what other people thought, what I thought I should be.
I loved who I was when I was with him. And I loved him.
An ache rooted in my chest began to grow, and I imagined it like a seed from which black vines sprouted in every direction, constricting my stomach, suffocating my heart, squeezing my throat. The ache spread throughout my entire body, making my limbs heavy with its weight. Before I could stop it, a tear escaped and slid down my cheek, followed by several more, one of which plopped onto Lucas’s forehead.
I sniffed, and Lucas stirred.
He opened his eyes and looked up at me. “Sorry, I fell asleep. Your voice is so soothing. Did you get to a sad part?”
I nodded. Wiping at my eyes, I forced myself to brighten up. “Sorry, I’m just a little emotional.”
He sat up and moved next to me, leaning against the tree and placing his arm around my shoulders. “You don’t have to apologize to me.” We sat like that for a moment before he spoke again. “Listen, I didn’t even think about an engagement party being kind of difficult for you, and I should have. I will totally understand if you don’t want to go.”
“What? No.” His voice was so worried, and I put a hand on his leg. “That’s not it, Lucas. I’m not…I don’t have a problem with the engagement party. I want to go. Really.”
“OK.” He didn’t sound convinced, but he didn’t argue.
I settled into the crook of his arm, closed my eyes, and took a few deep breaths, embarrassed that I’d been caught crying and praying I could fight back against the rest of the tears waiting to fall.
“Is it me then?” he asked.
My eyes flew open. Don’t tell him. “What do you mean?”
Against my back I felt his chest expand. “You’re upset. Did I do something?”
“No, of course not.” I blinked, too nervous to look at him. He’d know I was lying if he saw my face.
“I hope last night wasn’t too much for you. You’re just so beautiful and I got carried away—”
“No. Lucas.” I turned to face him and pulled my legs beneath me, sitting on my heels. He’d see the sadness on my face but I couldn’t let him think it was because of what we’d done last night. We’d stayed up half the night doing all kinds of fun stuff, including naked checkers, licking scotch off each other’s bodies, and taking a bath in the clawfoot tub—then he let me tie him to a chair and do all sorts of things to his body, anything I wanted.
And he’d obeyed my every command.
“Last night was amazing,” I said. “I promise you, I loved every minute of it.”
He looked relieved. “OK, good. I did too.” He shifted his position and adjusted his pants. “Just thinking about it is making me hard.”
