Utter bliss.

As Lucas pulls out, I roll off him and nestle in the crook of his arm. He places his other hand on my hip.

I trail my fingers along his collarbones and kiss his broad chest. From this day forward, a morning quickie with the man of my dreams is officially my number one favorite way to wake up. Especially when said quickie occurs after a whole night of mind-blowing sex.

Shutting my eyes, I recall the last eight hours. Let’s see… a total of five, maybe six, orgasms since around midnight, when we tumbled into his apartment, and he took me right in the entryway. Both of us were too aroused to make it to the bedroom.

This was, without a doubt, the best night in my life.

So worth the wait!

Three years of being Lucas’s friend. Dozens of schemes to make him look at me differently. Disappointment when each of them failed. Pain every time I spotted him with a new woman on his arm. Envy because that woman would invariably be prettier than me.

That’s all in the past now.

I smile and breathe him in. Is it too soon to make plans? Do I dare to ask him what he’s doing next weekend since there are no matches and we’ll both be in Paris?

“Next weekend,” he says, sliding his hand from my hip to my backside. “I’d like us to try something different. What say you?”

Thank you, God, for next weekend and us!

Wait… What exactly was his question?

I open my eyes and peer at him, trying to figure out what he has in mind.

“Izz… Babe…” Lucas hesitates before giving me a tender smile. “My regular girlfriend doesn’t want to hear about anything remotely kinky, but if you’re up for it, it would make me very happy.”

Did he just say my girlfriend?

An instant lump in my throat makes it nearly impossible to draw a breath. I pull back, scrambling for something to hold on to as I begin to fall.

Perhaps I misheard him.

Or maybe it was a dumb joke, and he’s going to burst out laughing any second now.

Except, Lucas doesn’t laugh—he draws his eyebrows together. “You don’t know about Angie?”

A tiny shake of my head is all I can manage.

“It’s true she hasn’t been to any of my scrimmages or games.” He tilts his head to the side. “She travels a lot for work… But I was sure you’ve heard of her.”

I shake my head again.

“Right.” He props his head on his elbow. “Just so we’re clear… This doesn’t change anything, OK?”

I blink at him.

Lucas sits up. “It’s still the friend zone for us, Isabelle.”

Isabelle.

No longer “Izz.”

Why not Mademoiselle Ferrand while he’s at it?

I focus on the way he’s addressing me to keep my mind distracted from the real issue. And the real pain. But the sensation of falling is so powerful, it makes my stomach twist despite attempts to distract myself.

“Don’t go anywhere,” Lucas says, still smiling. “We’ll finish this conversation after I take a leak.”

He stands and heads to the bathroom without bothering to put on his boxers. My descent gains momentum as I watch his muscular, V-shaped back, his tight ass, and his long, strong thighs. Two more steps, and I crash into the ground with a dull thud.

Must get out of here before I throw up.

I sit up and stroke my tummy under the blanket to quell the nausea.

Lucas halts at the door, takes in my discomfiture and laughs. “You look so shocked! Hey, we had a good time, but I hope you didn’t expect a declaration of undying love.”

“Of course not,” I say. “But… I didn’t expect this.”

Anger rises in my chest, and I hang onto it with all I have.

“I wasn’t aware you were seeing someone,” I hiss. “You should’ve told me last night before we came here.”

He arches an eyebrow. “Because if I had, you would’ve said no?”

I open my mouth to confirm, but the truth is I’m not sure. I can only hope it would’ve been a no.

Instead, I say, “It pisses me off that you want to use me as a fuck buddy for whatever depraved shit your regular girlfriend won’t do.”

There, it felt good to voice it.

Lucas backtracks and sits at the foot of the bed. “Izz, I’m going to be blunt. I have to because you need it.”

I swallow, bracing myself for more nastiness.

“You’re plain,” he says. “Fit and wholesome, but plain. I don’t date plain women. In fact, I don’t even sleep with them. You’re an exception.”

He may as well have sucker punched me.

I turn my head to the wall. “You flatter me, Lucas.”

“Try to put yourself in my shoes,” he says. “I’m just a man. And you were so… desperate. You’ve been trying so hard, for so long—”

“Are you saying this was a pity fuck?” I force myself to turn to him and stare into his eyes.

He holds my gaze. “Yes.”

For a moment, we stay like that, me glaring, him searching my face for sympathy.

“Let me show you something,” he finally says and begins to sift through the pile of clothes on the floor.

Whatever it is, I’m almost sure I don’t want to see it. After his previous remarks, I only expect more pain from the “man of my dreams.”

“Found it!” Lucas straightens up with his phone in his hand.

I think I know what he’s going to show me.

“This is my girlfriend,” he says holding the phone in front of my face. “She’s a top model.”

Of course, she is. The woman is freaking gorgeous. Almost too perfect to be real.

“How long have you been seeing her?” I ask, praying that my voice doesn’t crack.

“Since July.”

“That’s five months! You’ve had an actual non-groupie, non-disposable girlfriend for five months?”

“Yeah.”

My eyes tear. “Why did you do this to me, Lucas?”

He shrugs. “Like I said, you were desperate. And I was… curious. So, I figured now was the time before I take it to the next level with Angie.”

“Next level?” My eyes widen as comprehension strikes. “You plan to marry her?”

“Eventually, yes.” He smiles. “But I’m counting on you not to tell anyone at the club yet.”

I smirk. “Do your teammates even know she exists?”

“Some of them do. They know Angie doesn’t like water polo and doesn’t have time to hang out with my crowd. Besides, she finds our gatherings vulgar.”

“Does she?”

“Hmm, now that I’m telling you this, I wonder if I should feel offended.” Lucas grins. “Anyway, when we’re both in town, we mostly hang out with her trendier model and photographer friends.”

I stare at him, still finding it hard to believe what I’m hearing.

He fingers his phone. “Let me show you a few more pics.”

As photos slide in front of my eyes, Lucas says, “This is Angie doing a Dior show… The two of us in Saint Tropez… This one was taken at her friend’s party in London.”

Beautiful people, designer clothes, expensive cars, luxurious settings… A life so vastly different from the northern suburbs of Paris both Lucas and I come from, it may as well have been on a different planet.

“Who’s the pretty boy on her left?” I arch an eyebrow, pointing to a big dude with his arm wrapped around Angie’s shoulder. “He’s in half of your pictures.”

Lucas’s expression loses some of its smugness. “That’s Clément. He’s a fashion photographer and Angie’s best friend.”

I sneer. “Friend with benefits?”

“Without,” he says. “I’m certain of it. It’s like you and Eric—just really good friends.”

It’s true, Eric and I are just really good friends, and we do hang out together a lot. And, damn him, he does like to hug me. So there goes my pathetic attempt to insinuate a man who has his arm wrapped around a woman’s shoulder must be more than a friend.

“Well, congratulations,” I say, looking at the wall.

“Thank you.” He stands and leaves the room.

Lucas has a girlfriend, is all I can think about as I pull my clothes on and see myself out.

Last night he cheated on her, and I was an accessory to his dalliance. He wants to sleep with me again so he can try kinky stuff she won’t do. I hate him for that, and I loathe myself.

On some level, I’ve always known he didn’t find me hot enough for a proper relationship. But I lived in denial. Except now, there’s no hiding from the bitter and humiliating truth. I’ve been blind enough not to see it and to fall in love with him.

And that brings me to the second truth, which is even more distressing than the first.

Now I know he’s a jerk—and I still love him.