Chapter 19

Disclaimer: Inspired by real life events but taking a lot of liberties with it.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

My heart is jamming in my chest even though I've been sitting on my couch for the past forty five minutes. After watching the game and getting ready, I couldn't really focus on anything else but the fact that Lukasz is coming to spend the rest of the weekend with me.

Lukasz and me.

Is this our first date?

Does it even count?

It seems I'm not the only one about to explode from eagerness. The faintest knocking on the door sends Wrinkles in a sprint with his tail flailing everywhere.

I take a couple breaths to futilely calm myself down before I open the door.

He is here.

Lukasz stands at my door, leaning onto the door frame with one hand. When he sees me, he tries to straighten his pose, hand reaching for his hip, smiling faintly at me, his eyes almost in slits.

"Cecilia..." He breathes out. "Hi." A strand of hair is falling out of place, onto his forehead.

"Hey..." I take one step closer to him, as worry fills me. He looks like he's about to collapse.

Before I can ask if he's okay, he wraps his arms around me. His entire body envelops mine, as he buries his face in my neck.

"I made it," he whispers into my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.

He exhales loudly, falling heavily into me, to the point I need to take a step back so we both don't topple over.

"Lukasz?!" With a soft groan, he perks up. His eyes are closed when my hands cup his face. "Are you okay?"

He smiles again, barely, his eyes peeking at me under heavy lids. "I am now."

It doesn't take a genius to realize this is a shattered man in front of me. I don't know what went on last night with the guys, but it doesn't seem like he got any sleep, and I already know he had gotten no sleep on Thursday night when he was here, which probably means the last time he slept was Wednesday night... 72 hours ago.

My stomach drops. Whatever plan I had for our night fades from my head, and my main priority becomes to get him some sleep. I close a hand around his and pull him inside, closing the door and taking his bag from his shoulder.

He mumbles something about a room in a hotel, and I circle an arm around his waist when he takes the first unsteady step. I don't think there's much I could do if he falls over, but at least I try to offer him some support as we make our way to the couch.

I briefly consider taking him to my bed instead, but my couch is not only closer but also L-shaped so it would have to do.

When he flops on the couch I sigh, wondering how the hell he made it here in one piece.

I kneel next to him, my fingers pushing the loose strand of hair off his forehead. When I do, he sits up, shaking his head and looking around disconcertedly.

"Hey," I reach for his hand over his thigh and he turns to look at me.

He smiles, slowly sinking back into the cushions. "I want to take you out for dinner," he says. "I can't cook." He chuckles.

I smile, because I can't help it, but with a sigh, I get up from the couch.

"Hey... where are you going?" he complains.

"We are not going anywhere," I say as I take his shoes off and bring his feet up on the longer part of the couch, so that he's the closest to lying down as I can get him.

He surprisingly does not complain about that. I'm actually not even sure if he notices it. "What are we doing then?" he asks.

"Nothing..." When I turn to look at him, his eyes have closed again. "You are sleeping."

I sit back next to him and he tries to open his eyes. "I just need some coffee," he insists — so stubborn. "I'm fine."

"Stop," I say softly, reaching for him as he sets his head on my chest. "Sleep now."

He breathes out heavily as he locks his arms around my waist.

"Thank you," he whispers as I kiss his forehead.

I keep one arm around him and run my fingers in his hair until his breathing slows. He mumbles a few things here and there until I am convinced he is deeply asleep, or at least his soft snoring seems to indicate so.

The poor thing — he must be so exhausted.

It's barely 8 at night, and he's out cold when I slide him over so he can rest more comfortably. I find him a pillow and a blanket and he barely moves as I lift his head. When I set him down, he turns on his side, sticking an arm under his pillow.

His lips part as he whispers another thank you.

One last look at him, and I decide he'll be okay, so I make it to my room.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

A little after nine in the morning, I decide to start making some food. Lukasz has not moved from the couch, but I am sure he'll wake up hungry... if/when he wakes up. At least I know he is breathing — I checked.

I still try to be quiet in the kitchen, even though he's been out for over 13 hours - I don't want to be the one who wakes him up. I'm mixing the French toast batter when I notice his legs twitch. He stretches his body before he rolls over, then with a jolt, he sits.

His head turns from side to side, taking in his surroundings, and I smile.

With only one eye open, his face turns to me.

"Hey," I say, widening my already wide smile. I am so helpless when it comes to him.

He still seems confused. "Cecilia..." His voice sounds raw and he clears his throat. His eyes are puffy from sleep and his hair is falling on his forehead.

He's adorable.

"I..." He stalls, scratching his neck. "I..."

"The bathroom is all yours," I add nonchalantly. I won't let him apologize for last night. He won't make this awkward. He is well rested now, which is all that matters, and we still have some time to spend together.

He runs a hand down his face and over his hair, before he looks down at his bag which I left next to the couch. I can see the wheels starting to turn in his head. I don't know if he remembers what happened last night, but at least, he's figuring it out.

He seems a bit embarrassed and avoiding as he gets up from the couch. His back is to me as he stretches, and I smile when I see him methodically fold the blanket and setting it on top of the pillow, neatly arranging them on the corner of the couch.

"I'll be just a moment," he says when he faces me.

"I'm in no rush," I give him with a smile. His lips stretch in a tiny shy grin as well, before he heads for the bathroom.

The man that comes out of the bathroom thirty minutes later is a different one. He's showered and shaved, even done his hair. There's a refreshing smile on his face, and his eyes crinkle as they meet mine from across the room.

He walks around the countertop and into the kitchen, the smile never leaves his face and his eyes never leave mine. I have to remind myself about the unturned toasts and my idiotic hand hovering over them.

"You really don't have to do any of this," he says as I flip the toasts.

"Are you not hungry?" I look up at him, barefoot and in my tiny kitchen, he feels a little bit taller... bigger. He smells so good too, like man and clean and soap.

"I'm starving," he says, getting my attention back... to his lips.

"Then shush!" I joke, trying to relieve some of the tension.

His chuckle is sudden and honest and it warms me up inside. It quickly dies down, though, as he sobers up and stares back at me. "Shush?" The light in his eyes tell me, however, he's not serious at all. "That's rude."

"Yeah?" I take the French toasts off the pan and turn the stove off.

"Definitely. Not as rude as me crashing uninvited on your couch. But still rude."

I sigh, turning to face him. "You needed that."

"I know..." His expression changes again as he leans over on the countertop, moving closer to me. "I did, and I'm sorry, but thank you," he says wholeheartedly.

His hand reaches for my face while he wets his lips, slowly inching closer. His fingers close behind my neck and he brings our lips together.

It's a soft peck, but it still weakens my knees. He exhales through his nose as he pulls himself away. I look down, needing some air myself, and I notice how tightly he's gripping the counter. I always get this feeling with him, like he's restricting himself. I know it will take time, but I can't wait until he just lets go.

With a sigh, I collect myself to face him. "Breakfast is getting cold."

He smiles, my smile, and steps back, giving me some room.

I serve two dishes and he quietly follows until we're both sitting at the table.

We eat almost in complete silence — well I eat, he inhales his food — but it's somehow not awkward, a few glances here and there followed by smiles, that's all it takes me to get through breakfast.

After having seconds, a banana, and an apple, he seems to finally be satiated and rests back on the chair. "What would you be doing today if I wasn't here?"

"Well, being a Sunday... probably something glamorous like laundry."

He laughs. "That's it?"

"Maybe take Wrinkles to the park?" At the mention of his name, Wrinkles gets off from the couch and sprints in my direction.

"I see..."

"What about you?"

"A Sunday after a game? Rest."

"You would have stayed up all night."

"Probably," he says, semi-apologetically, but with a shrug.

I shake my head at him, considering briefly whether to bring this up or not. However, there is one issue I'm already not worrying about — I can't not worry about this too. "I think you have a sleeping disorder."

"What?" He chuckles. "I don't."

"I'm serious."

"So am I. Not sleeping after a game is normal, Cecilia. That amount of adrenaline does not just disappear."

"What about not sleeping two days in a row? Is that normal? Besides, you did not play yesterday."

"Friday night was... a special occasion." He looks down, scratching his neck.

"Why? What happened?" I probe.

"Mats happened," he says, before peeking up at me.

"Oh..."

"Yeah..."

"Is he... I mean..." I stall, my brain spinning with the possibilities of what went on between them after he left on Friday.

"He's okay." Lukasz's face is composed. His expression, calmed. "He was just very... chatty."

"Did you stay up all night together?"

He nods.

"Talking?"

"Amongst other things... yes." He looks guilty, I almost want to ask what else went on.

It suddenly hits me, the immensity of everything. It's real — this between Lukasz and I — whatever it is, it's real.

People will find out. Mats will see us together. It will happen. It's going to happen.

Not being with Lukasz, though... it's not an option anymore.

"God, Lukasz, what are we going to do?" I drop my face into my hands with a sigh.

"Hey..." He scoots his chair closer to mine. Hand over my hair. "It's going to be fine."

"How?" I say into my hands.

"I've always kept my private life private, Cecilia." He peels my fingers from my face. "I intend to keep it that way."

"I know, but this is different." When my eyes find him, the fervor in his eyes grounds me.

"I won't let anybody hurt this." He grabs my hand in his, intertwining our fingers. "I was honest with Mats because I don't want to hide anything from him, but other than that, it's nobody else's business."

He's right — It's not, but that doesn't mean they won't notice, won't ask questions, won't have opinions. "So we hide?"

"We keep to ourselves," he states simply, his voice commanding determination.

"With everyone there? That's going to be nearly impossible!"

"Okay, so we don't have to be there," he adds in a calmed tone. "I can come here after the game next weekend," he offers instead.

His eyes show me nothing, no hesitation, no doubt. He'd do it. He'd fly here next weekend again so we could see each other.

"I can't do that to you." I sigh. "Look how you arrived last night. You were shattered, Lukasz."

"Next weekend it's not going to be like that." He immediately turns into his avoiding self. I've reached the limit of what he'd allow me to see and what he won't.

"Oh really? Are you not playing on Saturday?" I counter.

He takes a deep breath and scratches his forehead. Of course he's playing, and we both know what that means. He will be in pain after the game, and in no condition to fly.

When he looks back up at me, a little excited grin appears on his face. "You want to come to Wolfsburg, then?"

I had forgotten that the next game is away in Wolfsburg. I can see it in his eyes — he wants me to watch him play. I want to do this for him, so much. I know what a pain it is to travel, especially for him, and especially after a game.

"With everyone there, Lukasz? Do you think that's such a good idea? Isn't it too soon?"

He sees I'm second guessing my decision so he loses his grin. "I can come here. It's really no big deal."

I hate the dejected look on his face. I never want to be responsible for that look, ever again.

The hell with everyone! I'm doing this. "I already wanted you to come here the weekend after, anyway."

"You did?" The light in his eyes tells me he's back.

I nod, matching his grin. "If you can manage to take it easy during that game," I pause, side-eyeing him a bit, and getting up from my chair to collect the plates. "If you're able to fly here that weekend... I have a work event on Saturday night. I was wondering if you'd like to come with me."

"I'd love to," he says without hesitation.

"That'd be flying here three weekends in a row." I turn to look at him.

"I don't mind." His hands get a hold of my hips and he pulls me between his legs. "I really don't."

I won't put him through that. I won't make him fly to Munich three weekends in a row. I don't want to not see him either, so there's really no choice.

"I'll go to Wolfsburg. I can watch the game... Hang out with the girls..." I say casually, slightly leaning into his thigh. His fingers close, fisting the fabric of my sweats.

"The girls? What about me?"

"Maybe... if I find some time," I add teasingly, smiling at him. "Then you come here the weekend after. You think it will be fine?"

"It doesn't have to be a big deal," he says reassuringly. "We'll act normal. Nothing has changed."

"Nothing?" I move closer to his lips, tauntingly.

"Mmmhmm..." He closes his arms around my waist, pulling me to him, as our lips touch.

He starts slowly, pecking my lips, until he finally starts losing some of that self-imposed restraint. He groans softly, breathing out of his nose, when his tongue makes it into my mouth.

In an impulse, my legs straddle him, and I'm sitting on his lap, the need for friction is almost too much.

I can feel him, under his shorts, through my sweats. He groans a little louder when I move my hips.

When he chuckles, I pull away in confusion.

He gestures to the bottom of the chair, where Wrinkles is up on two legs. He has a good bite on Lukasz's shorts, which he is pulling on with the faintest of growls.

"Hey buddy, it's okay. It was consensual." He runs a hand over Wrinkles' head and the little monster barks at him!

"Hey!" I'm off Lukasz's lap, grabbing Wrinkles in my hands. "You stop that!"

I turn to Lukasz apologetically while he gets off the chair as well, arranging his shorts. He's having trouble containing his smile. "It's okay..." he says, laughing through his nose. "How about we take him to the park? We'll be best buddies at the end of the day, you just wait and see."

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Lukasz, of course, does not disappoint. He plays with Wrinkles for hours, until the little monster falls asleep on his lap. We sit under a tree, as clichés would have it, sharing some fruit I packed. He asks about work and the event we're holding in two weeks. We also go over his arrangement with Klopp and how he's supposed to take it easy for the next two games and will only play for 60 minutes. I'll believe it when I see it.

We end up having a perfect day, and at the end, Wrinkles is whimpering, begging Lukasz not to go. I know exactly how my poor little monster feels.

He kisses me goodbye, hand gripping behind my neck. Every time we kiss, I feel him loosening a little more. When he disappears behind the door, I can't wait to see him again.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

The week drags. Work is exciting but the promise of seeing Lukasz lingers in my every thought. We talk several times on the phone. He mentions training has been intense, but every question about his injury, gets me an evasive response. He says he's doing well, so I decide to believe him for the moment.

As Friday approaches, the excitement to see him it's still there, however it's been tainted with the anxiety of getting to see him... in front of everyone else. It's not until Thursday night, I realize there's only one thing that would make it better. Like Lukasz said, as far as Mats knows and we're honest with him, everything should be okay.

Mats answers after the second ring. "Hey Cee Cee, what's up?!"

"Hi, are you busy?" I sit gingerly on the edge of my bed.

"Nah..." he says, exhaling roughly, and by the sounds of the television just coming on behind him, I'd bet he just collapsed on his couch. "Just got home from practice. I'm wiped. Klopp's been as mean as they come these days."

"So I've heard..." I don't realize what I've just said until the words play again in my brain.

Mats does not give me any time to freak out though as he starts chuckling. "Has Lukasz been whining? What a baby!"

Mats' laugh is real, and honest, and it makes me smile. "A little bit..." I say, running my hands over my thighs.

"So, you're coming to Wolfsburg?" he asks right away.

He knows.

They've talked.

Of course they've talked.

"Yeah?"

"Great! It will be good to see you, Cee Cee."

I sigh. He's being so great. How could this be possible? I have to ask. "Are you okay?"

"Well... I'm a little sore, and hungry as fuck." His answer is instant and it makes me smile.

"Mats..."

"Cee Cee, you worry too much. I'm fine. Okay?"

"Okay..." I sigh, hugging my knees to my chest.

"I'll see you Saturday?"

"Yes."

"Okay, so unless you're planning on coming here and either bringing or cooking me dinner, I gotta go."

The smile returns to my face, accompanied by giggles. "All right… good night."

"Night, Cee Cee."

I hang up with a sigh and drop on the mattress.

Mats is truly an amazing guy, and I am lucky to have him in my life. Whatever happens with me and Lukasz, I can't allow it to hurt Mats — we can't. I'm confident that Lukasz feels this way too, so we will find a way to make it work.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~