Page 14 of Retrograde
‘That didn’t seem to stop you two years ago in Italy, Sunny.’
‘That was a mistake.’
And that was Lucie’s problem. She had so desperately wanted to allow herself to get lost in the moment, to get carried away and recreate that one perfect night they’d spent together, but Lucie could never have casual, no-strings-attached sex with a man like Brett Anderson. She’d learned that the hard way. There were far too many emotions involved.
Relationships came and went and people betrayed her when the next best thing came along. He had just told her in not-so-many words that he would do the same thing to her that all the men of her early twenties had. If something happened between them again and he brokeher heart, she would lose everything. A romantic entanglement just wasn’t on the cards.
So instead, they’d ordered every type of cheesecake from room service and sat in front of that very same window, her in his shirt, talking into the early hours of the morning with a bottle of Lucie’s favourite red wine. Nothing had changed, and the only regret Lucie had woken up with was the kind that she could live with. The regret of a what if… and a killer hangover.
‘Anderson, wake up. I need breakfast,’ Lucie mumbled into her pillow.Nothing. ‘Brett, come on. They have blueberry pancakes. It’s our last day, we can’t waste the breakfast menu. It’s blasphemy.’ But the Aussie giant didn’t move a muscle. If the mention of blueberry pancakes couldn’t coax him out of his slumber, nothing would.
Wet washcloth in hand, she stomped back over to him and prayed he woke up before she reached him because once she did this, he was going to be in a horrendous mood until the pancakes saved her reputation.
Brett, despite getting up before dawn for training or race-week prep, was not a morning person. It was a struggle they shared, and they were the worst on the team for it. He would be in a bad mood all day if she approached this wrong. Maybe she should set an alarm and leave her phone right next to his head? There was that default ringtone society universally hated, and that was the one thing that could getherup. But she remembered she had tried that before, and Brett had slept through it. He could probably sleep through an earthquake. Maybe even an ice age.
Since he had fallen asleep with his whole face shoved into the fluffy white pillows, she had no choice but to slap the washcloth onto the back of his neck. She braced herself for a temper tantrum, but it never came. ‘Brett?’ She shoved him. ‘Brett.’ She shoved him again, harder this time. Silence. Positioning her small frame so she could use all her strength, which wasn’t much, she rolled him over to her side of the bed. His arm flopped out and his head lolled to one side, but he didn’t even flinch. This was far worse than his usual deep sleep and Lucie was trying to quell the part of her brain that was telling her something could be wrong. She gave it one final shot. ‘Wake up, Anderson.’ She slapped him right across the face this time.
‘What the fuck, Sunny?’ Brett startled awake, glaring at Lucie.
‘About time! Jesus, Brett, how much did you drink last night?’
‘Not as much as I would’ve if you hadn’t been on my ass about it.’ There was a venom to his tone that surpassed tired disgruntlement.
Lucie had been half-joking, but his tone put her back up. He’d never spoken to her like this, even when he was stressed.
‘Brett, I almost couldn’t wake you.’
‘But you did.’ He rolled his eyes at her, like she was being dramatic.
Perhaps she was. Or perhaps she was starting to put the pieces together. Their night in the casino had been one thing, when he hadn’t wanted to stop. This? Thiswas unnerving. He usually had control and knew when to rein it in, he didn’t lie motionless in bed and not wake up to the racket she’d been making.
‘Don’t you think you took it a bit far last night?’ She softened her tone, hoping she didn’t come across as accusatory.
‘Nope.’
‘Brett, come on… this isn’t like you. You’ve been partying a lot lately, I mean, you were in Brussels just recently for a weekend fuelled by alcohol. You never used to do that.’
‘I’m fine, Lucie.’ He gritted his teeth so hard she was certain they’d shatter, but she wasn’t quite done with this conversation.
‘Brett…’ she put her hand on his leg over the duvet, ‘are you sure everything is okay, sweetheart?’
‘Don’t fucking call me that while you’re being a patronising little bitch.’ His words, still slurred like he was just as drunk as he’d been the night before, struck her through the heart and she blinked back tears, recoiling from him.
Scrambling for her phone, she found it on the floor next to the bed. She had ten per cent battery, just enough for one phone call. As she hit the call button, she prayed her knight in shining armour would pick up. ‘Julien?’
‘Finally, you guys are awake!’ Julien answered on the second ring. ‘Do you want to go and get breakfast? Faith has just gone to wash her hair, then we can head down and find somewhere.’
‘Jules, can you come in here? Bring Marco.’ Lucieknew she didn’t need to expand. The tears were unusual for her.
‘Why do you need them?’ Brett scoffed, throwing his arms up in disbelief.
‘Because you’re not acting like yourself, Brett.’
‘Lucie!’ There was a knock on the door a mere sixty seconds after she’d put the phone to one side, and she jumped up to let the boys in.
‘He’s being fucking horrible.’ Her voice wobbled. ‘I almost couldn’t wake him, it took me ages and he woke up raging at me. I have this sinking feeling there’s more to it, with the drinking.’
Julien gently pushed past her and went straight to where Brett lay in the middle of the king-sized mattress, pretending to have gone back to sleep. Regardless of how obvious it was that he was faking, Julien spoke like he wasn’t in the room. It would no doubt anger Brett more, but at least the guys could handle it.
