Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 65189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
I looked up from my notes, my heart skipping a beat at the mention of his name. Louise’s dark eyes studied me intently, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
“I’m glad you ended things with him,” she continued, her voice low and conspiratorial. “I was worried he might have gotten his hooks into you too deeply.”
A wave of conflicting emotions washed over me. Part of me wanted to defend Lucas, to tell Louise she didn’t know him like I did. But another part preened under her approval, grateful for the validation from this brilliant, fiercely independent woman I couldn’t help admiring.
“It wasn’t… It wasn’t quite like that,” I mumbled, fiddling with my pen.
Louise raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Do tell.”
I struggled to find the right words, my mind a jumble of conflicting thoughts and emotions. “It’s complicated,” I finally managed, my voice barely above a whisper. “Lucas isn’t… he’s not what everyone thinks he is.”
Louise leaned in closer, her dark eyes gleaming with interest. “Oh? Definitely do tell,” she urged, her voice low and conspiratorial.
I bit my lip, desperately trying to articulate the complexity of my feelings for Lucas without revealing too much. “He’s… he’s not just some mindless jock,” I began hesitantly. “He’s intelligent in his own way, and he can be surprisingly gentle and considerate.”
Even as the words left my mouth, I felt a pang of guilt. Was I betraying Lucas by discussing him like this? Or was I betraying my own principles by defending him?
Louise’s eyebrow arched skeptically. “Gentle and considerate? The man who thinks women should be subservient to their husbands?”
I flinched at her words, remembering the article that had caused me so much turmoil. “It’s not that simple,” I protested weakly. “He has traditional values, yes, but he’s not… he doesn’t want to oppress women.”
As I spoke, I felt a familiar warmth blooming in my core. My body seemed to come alive at the mere thought of Lucas, yearning for his touch, his dominance. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, acutely aware of my body in a way I had tried to keep at bay since that last night with Lucas.
Thankfully another student distracted Louise at that moment, so I was left to do my best to quiet the tension in my body. I thought I had succeeded too; I was actually thinking about the outline for my seminar paper when I saw the poster about the discount student tickets for Paris Saint Germain matches.
I couldn’t have said exactly what really made me scan the code on the poster, or what made me buy the ticket. I told myself it was only fair to Lucas that he should get back some of his money, but even as I formed the thought I knew it made no sense at all.
The match was the next night, ten days after Lucas had taken my anal virginity and I had broken up with him. As I entered the Parc des Princes, I found myself swept along with the sea of excited fans flooding into the gate. The energy in the air was electric, a palpable buzz of anticipation that set my nerves on edge. As I made my way to my seat, I couldn’t help but feel like an imposter. What was I doing here, pretending to be just another supporter when my connection to Lucas ran so much deeper?
My seat was high up in the stands, offering a panoramic view of the pitch below. The pristine green turf seemed to glow under the bright stadium lights, a stark contrast to the sea of blue and red jerseys filling the seats around me. The smell of beer and tobacco wafted through the air, mingling with the sharp scent of excitement and nervous sweat.
As the teams took the field for warm-ups, my eyes were instantly drawn to Lucas. Even from this distance, I could see the fluid grace of his movements as he jogged and stretched. His trademark intensity was evident in every motion, his focus laser-sharp as he prepared for the match. I felt my heart rate quicken, my palms growing damp with nervous sweat.
The fans around me chattered excitedly, their voices rising and falling in animated waves of conversation. I couldn’t help but eavesdrop, desperate for any morsel of information about Lucas.
“Did you hear about the offer from Yokohama?” a young man in a PSG jersey asked his friend.
I leaned in slightly, straining to hear more of their conversation over the roar of the crowd.
“Yeah, apparently it’s a massive offer,” his friend replied, shaking his head in disbelief. “But I heard Lucas is hesitating. Some say he’s considering retirement instead.”
My heart clenched painfully at the words. Retirement? I had known Lucas had reached the late stages of his career, but the word was that he would play forever. The thought of him leaving football seemed impossible, like the sun deciding to stop shining.