Open Play: Ladies, Goals, The Everything System in-between

Chapter 70: [70] "Back to Juliette’s"

Luc’s apartment had served its purpose for long enough now... about a month to be specific.

Luc packed his things efficiently, without ceremony. Two bags. One for training kit and boots. One for everything else, which wasn’t much, because he had never truly moved back in to begin with.

The floor-to-ceiling windows threw pale December light across the marble but he didn’t care for that scene.

He zipped the second bag and picked up both without looking back.

The drive to Juliette’s took a little over eleven minutes in the Porsche.

He knew because he had made it enough times.

The third floor. The door with the small scratch at the bottom left corner from when Juliette had moved in a bookshelf she’d since gotten rid of. The smell of her apartment before the door even opened, vanilla and something faintly clinical, the physio guru and a regular woman existing in the same space.

He used his key.

The apartment was quiet, meaning she had already been awake for hours. It wasn’t empty quiet. Occupied quiet.

Juliette was at the kitchen table with her tablet propped against a mug, reviewing something. She had her reading glasses on, and a half-eaten piece of toast beside the tablet that she had clearly forgotten about.

She looked up when the door clicked.

"He finally comes back," she said.

"Alexi’s gone back to Madrid," Luc said, dropping the bags by the door. "Your apartment is better."

"My apartment has been better since August. You just needed a month of Alexi to admit it." Juliette didn’t make much of a performance of his return.

No repositioning of furniture or clearing of drawer space with dramatic announcement. By the time Luc had finished his espresso, there was already room on the left side of the wardrobe.

---

The toast was still on the table.

Luc picked it up, took a bite, and put it back.

Juliette pulled it toward herself without looking up. "That was mine."

"You forgot about it."

"I was coming back to it."

"Yeah right. Plus it’s cold."

"I like cold toast." She took a bite of it to prove the point. It was clearly not enjoyable.

Luc poured a second espresso and sat across from her.

"The wager."

"We’re not talking about the wager today," Luc said.

"I’m not talking about it. I’m thinking about it." She set the tablet face down on the counter.

"I know the situation."

"Fontaine plays Bretagne on the same day." She took off the reading glasses and folded them. "Paris Royal should win. He might score."

"He might."

"That doesn’t bother you."

"It’s outside my control," Luc said. "What’s inside my control is what I do against Nord."

The afternoon was quiet in the apartment. December. The city outside moved slowly and with less urgency than any other month of the year.

Luc unpacked one bag at the wardrobe, the other he left by the door for training use.

Juliette worked at the table for another hour, reviewing what turned out to be Hugo’s ankle assessment.

"His ankle is still looking good."

"He’s been playing constant ninety minutes. The ankle should still be fine." Luc set a training shirt on the shelf.

---

By early evening the apartment had absorbed him back into its rhythms completely.

His boots were at the door. His tablet was on the kitchen counter beside her work bag. Two separate coffee cups in the drying rack instead of one.

He stood at the window with a glass of water and watched the street below.

Juliette came up beside him and stood there looking at the same street.

"How many months," she said.

"Of what?"

"Since Henri brought you in and you walked into my examination room and told me you’d take me to dinner if you scored a hat trick."

"You said you’d pay."

"I did pay." Juliette turned her head. Outside the window a couple walking a dog. A taxi pulling up, someone getting in.

"You’re going to win the wager Saturday," she said. "And then you’re going to spend the second half of the season making everyone forget there ever was a question about whether you belonged in this league."

"Is that coming from a fan or my girlfriend?"

Juliette blushed. It was the first time Luc put a label to there relationship.

"I’m glad you came back," she said, after a moment passed.

"I told you. Your apartment is better."

"Luc."

"I know. I know what you meant. Good to be back here with you love."

Juliette turned away from the window, the soft blush fading into something much sharper. Her green eyes darkened as she looked up at him.

She didn’t say anything else. She didn’t need to. She closed the distance between them, her hands gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him down into a kiss.

Luc dropped his glass of water on the counter without looking, his hands immediately finding her waist.

He lifted her effortlessly against the edge of the kitchen counter. Her legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him tightly against her. The transition from the quiet afternoon to intense, consuming heat was instantaneous.

He carried her backward down the short hallway to the bedroom, kissing her deeply, their bodies moving with the kind of synchronized rhythm that only came from months of knowing exactly how the other worked.

They fell onto the mattress in a tangle of limbs.

Juliette’s hands moved rapidly over his shoulders, her fingers pressing into the heavy, scarred muscles of his back, no longer assessing him for tension or injury, but dragging him closer with raw intent.

She pulled her sweater over her head, discarding it onto the floor. Luc stripped off his shirt, the cool air of the bedroom hitting his heated skin before he pressed her down into the sheets.

His mouth traced the line of her jaw, down her neck, feeling her breath hitch as his hands mapped the curves of her body. Every touch was deliberate. He knew the workings of this just as well as he knew the pitch.

When they finally joined, Juliette let out a sharp, breathless gasp, her nails digging hard into his shoulders. The pace was slow at first, building the friction, letting the pressure mount, before Luc took absolute control.

[System Notification]

[Hidden: Weaner size +4]

[Cost: 10 general points, 5 skill points]

Luc thought, "why the fuck would I--"

Juliette clenched harder and wrapped around him.

"Fuck! Yes!"

[Purchase successful]

[Weaner size +4]

"Shit! No!" Luc shouted out loud.

"What-- Fuck! Luc! You just grew inside me!"

The physical exertion was raw, a desperate, heated release of all the wager’s tension, driving them both into a blind, consuming rhythm until Juliette arched her back, crying out his name into the quiet apartment as they climaxed together.

---

The bedroom was dark except for the street lamp through the curtains.

Juliette lay on her side with her back to him, her breathing slow and regular.

Luc was on his back staring at the ceiling with one arm behind his head.

"That’s 15 fucking points. Gone."