Page 25 of Backhanded Compliments

“Juliette is tough to get to know, Luca. So, don’t feel bad that she won’t let you in.” Octavia gently pats her hand, and when Luca says nothing else, she turns back to Leo.

Luca sips her water, glancing at Ricci again. She looks carefree and happy here. Her head tilts back as she laughs, her eyes scrunchingup and her nose doing an adorable little wrinkle. Maybe she shouldn’t find it as endearing as she does, but Luca’s stomach does a funny little flip.

She forces her gaze away. She cannot be distracted by Ricci, not even on vacation.

THIRTEENLUCA

Later that night, when she finally collapses into bed, Luca is pleasantly sun-sleepy. However, every time she starts to doze, her burnt skin protests and wakes her.

“Ugh,” she mutters as she pads downstairs for ice. She had scoured through the villa’s cabinets earlier for aloe but found none.

The downstairs is quiet and still. The air is cool, making her shiver. It’s both pleasant and unnerving. It isn’t the worst burn she’s experienced, but it is beginning to ache, as all sunburns do after a few hours.

She slips the loose straps of her pajama tank top down her shoulders to dangle against her biceps. She fumbles through the freezer, wincing as she bends and causes the burn to ripple, but she manages to gather a bag of ice.

“What are you doing?”

Luca turns too sharply and winces. Ricci flicks on the light, and Luca squints. She fights the urge to cover herself and hide her shameful sunburn.

“I told you to wear sunscreen,” Ricci says quietly as her eyes trace over Luca’s collarbones.

Luca shrugs and hisses through her teeth at the movement. “I know, I was stupid.”

“Supremely,” Ricci agrees. She’s barely wearing any clothes, just like earlier that morning, except her silk sleep shorts and button-down are navy instead of plaid.

Luca looks away and rests the bag of ice on one of her burnt shoulders but instantly regrets it.

She gasps out in agony, and the bag slides from her skin as she lets go. The ice is too cold, doubling the burn. It crunches as it smacks against the terra-cotta. She curses, waving her hand over the burn as if that will help ease the sting.

“Sit down, dumbass,” Ricci says, striding into the kitchen and ripping the refrigerator open.

Luca stays standing. She won’t be bossed around by Ricci, especially not when she’s insulting her.

Ricci turns back to her. They’re quite close now. “Sit,” Ricci demands again, gesturing to the stools. There’s an edge to her voice that has goose bumps prickling along Luca’s arms. She’s holding a clear bottle of what looks like gel.

Luca narrows her eyes at Ricci but pulls out one of the stools and sits with her back to Ricci. “Is that aloe?” she asks, trying to distract herself from the jitters coming to life in her stomach.

“It is.” She hears the cap opening and the squelch of gel. “It’s going to hurt for a minute,” she warns.

Luca breathes in deep but tenses, curling her fingers into her knees. It hits her that Ricci is going to touch her, tohelpher.

Ricci’s touch is electric against her skin.

Luca jolts almost off the stool, pain slashing across her sensitive skin, blotting out everything. But Ricci keeps her palm pressed firmly against her shoulder, holding Luca down, grounding her. She hisses through her clenched teeth and swallows the tiny whimper that threatens to undo her.

“Are you all right?” Ricci asks, her voice a low rasp.

“Yeah.” Luca breathes out, relief relaxing the tension out of her shoulder. Now that the shock of the cold aloe is over, Ricci’s palm creates a patch of soothed skin. She can’t help but wonderwhyRicci is helping her.

Ricci’s hand moves slowly, gently, circling over her left shoulder blade first. It’s safe territory, but even that causes an undeniable burst of desire and agony in Luca’s chest. She remembers Octavia’s words at dinner and wonders if this is what she meant. Perhaps Ricci is all talk and no bite.

Well, the bite from Ricci’s words still hurt, even if Luca wishes they wouldn’t.

But these actions are sweet, almost caring. So different from when Ricci taunted her, digging into Luca and hitting her deepest insecurity. She can almost trick herself into believing that Ricci is doing this because Luca is her soulmate, not just because she’s in pain and Ricci feels bad.

She breathes harshly through her teeth. Ricci’s free hand moves Luca’s hair over her shoulder, her thumb sweeping across the back of her neck. Every inch of Luca’s body buzzes, as if Ricci’s touch reverberates through every nerve ending. She is grateful that Ricci can’t see her face as she nearly crumples into thousands of pieces, a cry half-caught, strangled, in the back of her throat. Luca doesn’t want Ricci to stop touching her and that want cleaves through all of her defenses.

Ricci makes a soft humming noise, her aloe-covered palm cupping the back of Luca’s neck, her thumb arcing up to curve below her ear.

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