My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work

Tempted

Every single Sunday morning since moving to France, me and Ed have come here, to Café des Amis for breakfast. Croissants and café au lait for him, tartine and tea for me. Breakfast just isn't breakfast unless I have a cup of sweet tea and my quota of bread and jam.

The cafe's in a fairly busy spot, but not too busy, and set where it is, it catches the morning sun. It has a friendly, welcoming atmosphere and it's become a favourite haunt of ours.

We just sit and talk, plan our day, spend a relaxing hour or so before setting off to explore the country we now live in. Sometimes it's on foot, other times, if we plan on going a little further afield, out into the countryside, we'll hire a car, and take it in turns to drive. I've gotten used to driving on the other side of the road now, strange how quickly you adapt. I won't be driving anywhere today though, I doubt I'll be walking very far either, not the mood I'm in and certainly not on my own.

I'm making short work of my breakfast, I'm hungry, starving in fact, my stomach is loudly protesting its emptiness, but that said, I'm not enjoying it the same without Ed, without his jokes and funny stories. He seems to have an endless supply of those, he's got a great sense of humour, I'm lacking in that department at the best of times, but especially so at the moment.

I'm also starting to feel a little uncomfortable sitting here all by myself, I feel a bit like Billy-no-mates! I'm aware that every other pavement table is now taken. Each and every one of them is occupied by a couple, whereas I'm conspicuously on my own, looking both unloved and unwanted! It's a stupid observation to make, I know, but then I'm feeling sorry for myself, and I've well and truly got the hump with Ed. I've hardly seen him this week, and this is the second time in a matter of days that rugby has come between us, the second time he's stood me up because of it. I'm overreacting, I know, making it sound like something it isn't, it's just that I'm disappointed, more than disappointed. Sunday is the one full day of the week we have to spend together. I know it's not his fault, that he has no say in the matter; still, it's him I'm angry at.

He's got a big game coming up, the intensity of his training schedule proof of that. This morning's session was added to it just last night, one of those last-minute decisions managers have the power to make. It had started at the crack of dawn and was only supposed to last a few hours, and so we'd arranged to meet up here afterwards. We were determined it wouldn't spoil the day, but spoil it, it has, because just five minutes after I'd sat down, expecting him to appear at any minute, a text alert had sounded on my phone. It was Ed. It seemed the trainer wasn't happy with their performance, and was keeping them there until he was. Ed had no idea when he'd be home.

My heart sank on seeing his message, not even the 'Luv you babe' at the end of it had helped soothe my ruffled feathers. His no-show had truly pissed me off and I acknowledged his text with a sarky reply, leaving Ed in no doubt of my feelings.

As I waited for my order to be brought out to me, I sat watching the world go by. Not a good idea as it turns out. Seeing everyone else with someone, whether that be family, friend or lover, made me feel even more dejected and alone. Suddenly, being in a foreign country, hundreds of miles from my family and friends, didn't seem such a good idea. I longed to see them all, I longed to walk down through the village in Emmerdale and see a face I knew, even if that face belonged to some sourpuss like Nicola or Edna.

It's not the first time I've felt homesick, and it probably won't be the last. Thankfully, there's a cure for the condition, ok, not a cure as such, more a dose of something that eases the symptoms. If it was good enough for E.T, then it's good enough me!

I've decided to eat up, and go straight back to the flat to make that phone call. Hopefully I'll catch either my mum or Paddy in and so hear a familiar voice. I don't mind admitting that I miss them both badly. But, just as I'm about to down the last of my tea, a shadow falls across me. Looking up, I find a pair of deep blue eyes staring back at me, and it's not just the eyes that I notice in detail, the tanned, handsome face they're set in gets the exact same attention. The stranger speaks to me in French, I've got a good idea of what he's saying, he's asking if he can join me. I could, if only I was a little more confident with my recently acquired language skills, answer him in French, but the intensity of his gaze unnerves me and I wimp out with a feeble "Sorry?", pretending I've no idea what he's just said.

"You are English?"

The question is accompanied with a knowing look, well we Brits are infamously lax when it comes to learning another language, we expect everyone to learn ours, "Yeah."

I expected him to repeat his first question in English but he doesn't, he just sets his coffee down onto the table then slips into the chair beside me saying, "You should learn French, it is a beautiful language."

He's smiling at me, and I'm quick with a reply, "I am, well I'm trying to."

"Très bien."

He smiles at me again as he studies my face, and as he does so, I see something in his eyes, something that sets my heart racing... he likes what he sees, he's attracted to me, and I realise with a jolt that I'm attracted to him. For a heartbeat, I forget about Ed but then, I'm hit by a wave of guilt, I'm with him, I care about him, I shouldn't be feeling anything towards this stranger, but I do. And because Ed's not here to witness it, I smile back at him, giving him all the wrong signals, or all the right signals as far as he's concerned.

We talk, well he does most of the talking, and it's all in English for my benefit. I find I like his voice, it's soft and the accent… well the accent is definitely a turn on, I'm hanging on his every word, my gaze constantly wandering to his full lips, lips that every now and again curl into a heart-stopping smile. Suddenly he points to my empty cup and asks if I want another, and the words 'yeah, please' are out of my mouth before I can stop them. I know I should have said 'no, thanks', then made my excuses and left. But I don't want to go, I like his company, and right now I'm in need of that very thing.

"Café au lait?"

I nod, tell myself why not, it's what he's drinking. Another pang of guilt hits me, Ed's constantly asking me to try it, he keeps telling me it's much nicer than the stuff we have back home, but I've stubbornly stuck to my tea. But for Rémy, it seems I'm willing to change the habit of a lifetime! I watch him walk into the café, giving him the slow once over, he's tall, muscular, broad shouldered. My eyes linger a little too long on a certain part of his anatomy... I've noticed how snug a fit his jeans are.

Rémy's soon back and conversation starts to flow again, and any residual guilt quickly evaporates, just like the foam on my café au lait.

I'm not sure how long we've been sitting here now, a good while I suppose, we're on our second cup of coffee. When I'd gone inside for it, I'd felt Remy's eyes on me, knew he was looking me up and down in the exact same way I'd been ogling him. His eyes were still on me as I walked back to our table, and the way he was looking at me had my heart beat still faster.

Our cups are empty now and silence has fallen between us, it's an awkward moment. We both know we can't sit here all day, that it's time to either go our separate ways or go off somewhere together.

Rémy's the first to speak, he tells me his apartment is a ten-minute walk away, making it clear in one short sentence what it is he wants. The ball's in my court now and I'm more than tempted. I want to go back to his and lose myself in him. It wouldn't mean anything, it wouldn't lead to anything. It would just be sex.

Ed would never know and what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him... but I'd know!

Reality hits and I come down to earth with a bump. What was I thinking? I love Ed, I'm angry with him right now but the last thing I want to do is betray him. But then I already have! I've been sitting here flirting with another man, giving him the come on, letting him think I'm up for it. Well, I'm not. I don't want him; I want Ed, only Ed.

Suddenly, I don't like the way Remy's looking at me, and I don't want to think about what's going on in his head right now. "Sorry." I force the word out, it crosses my mind that he deserves more than that, that I should maybe explain myself, but then I tell myself that I don't want to get into another conversation with him, that I have to end this now.

The word registers with him and I see something flash in his eyes, but before he can say anything, I get to my feet, turn my back on him and quickly walk away.

End