Page 5 of His Juliet

“I’m sure your perfect day is being chased by some murderous mystery man and stealing someone’s pizza as you hold them hostage.”

He winked. “You’ve got it.” It was so unfair how sexy he looked.

“Fine, your turn again. Truth or dare?”

This time he saidtruth, and it took me a minute to decide what I wanted to know about this man. I needed to use my question wisely.

“If you could have one superpower, what would it be?” I asked.

Maybe an unoriginal question, but sue me.

He tutted, his eyes dancing. “I expected better of you, Juliet.”

“Ugh, fine.” I wracked my brain for a better question. “What’s something no one knows about you?” I raised my eyebrows in challenge.

“Much better.” He paused to think. “I, um, took up a new hobby recently.” He ruffled his hair and I waited for his answer. What would it be? Weightlifting? Marathons? Destroying his enemies with his bare hands?

“Crocheting.”

“What?”

He shrugged, looking strangely embarrassed. I could have sworn his olive skin was tinged pink.

“Do you have pictures?” I asked, nodding at his phone. “I want to see.”

“Umm, I guess, yeah, I do.” He flipped through his phone for a minute before turning the screen towards me. It was a picture of a throw pillow made of granny squares. I didn’t crochet—I had no artistic talent—but I’d watched enough craft videos late at night to know a little bit about it.

“That’s really pretty,” I said, looking back at Romeo. Now there was no denying that he was blushing.

“It’s not much, but it passes the time,” he said gruffly, putting the phone down beside him. “Truth or dare?” he asked, obviously trying to change the subject.

“Truth.”

“If you could have any superpower, what would it be?”

I let out a laugh and leaned forward to shove his arm. “Oh, come on.”

“You must answer,” he said, looking smug. “It’s the rule.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. I’d like the power of invisibility.”

Romeo studied me carefully. “You could never be invisible.”

Now it was my turn to blush. He sounded so sincere, and it confused me. I’d spent the past two years being invisible.

“Mine would be the ability to fly, by the way,” he said. “But I won’t count that as my turn. I’ll take another truth.”

I needed to make this a good one. If I had my phone, I could have searched for question ideas. I played with my bottle of tequila, taking another sip, until I landed on one. “If you could ask a crystal ball any question, what would it be?”

Now it was his turn to fiddle with his scotch bottle, and I was sure he would drink again instead of answering. But he put it on his lap and ran his fingers through his hair.

“I would ask if my father forgives me for not doing enough to save him.”

A lump formed in my throat, so intense I could barely breathe. Because it was my exact answer, too, except about Breanna.

His response made me feel instantly closer to him. Something about the late hour, low light, and knowing it was just the two of us locked in here alone made this all feel sacred.

I leaned forward and grabbed his hand, like he had mine earlier when I was freaking out. “I know what that’s like. I wish I could say I know he’d forgive you, but I’m not sure that I’m forgiven, either.” How could Breanna forgive me when I didn’t deserve it? How could I forgive myself?

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