Page 62 of Backhanded Compliments

Luca crosses her arms over her chest. “Bold of you to think you would make it to the final,” Luca says, and Juliette extends her foot out to lightly nudge at Luca’s calf.

“I’ll show you,” she says.

“I look forward to it,” Luca says, surprised to find it isn’t a lie and feeling an odd warmth in her chest. Now that she isn’t playing, Luca is tempted to watch Juliette’s upcoming matches.

Juliette runs her fingers through her hair, twisting the curls over her other shoulder. She doesn’t look at Luca as she speaks. “Do you want to see if my soulmate hands would work on your back?” She does jazz hands as she says it.

Luca chokes on a laugh, even as her low-level anxiety spikes from the buzz in the back of her head. She curls her fingers into the sleeves of her hoodie.

“I don’t have to,” Juliette says quickly. “I just thought it might help. For Miami.”

Luca isn’t sure what to say. Her whole body aches to say yes, but she knows she should say no. She doesn’t know how to fight the surge of want that she feels every time Juliette comes close. She’s never been one to stay away from temptation after indulging.

Too sensitive, too emotional, too soft.All things she heard throughout her childhood until the hard courts toughened her and she found an escape through tennis. Though that doesn’t change her nature and how quickly she falls in love.

Her mother once described the pull toward her father as being parched in a scorched desert. And his love, however painful, was always the water she desperately craved.

Luca can’t need Juliette as if she’d die without her. Even ifthey’re tentative friends, Luca doesn’t know if she can trust herself to let Juliette close.

And yet, despite her misgivings, she sets down her drink and nods. This is a compromise. This is Juliette helping her so she can play tennis, the one love that has never betrayed or hurt her. “Okay.” Luca’s voice comes out raspy and she sits up. “We can try it.”

“It worked for me,” Juliette says, swinging her legs around on the love seat. “And on your sunburn.”

Heat punches through Luca’s stomach as she carefully turns around. She really should not have said yes.

The couch dips, and suddenly Juliette’s hand is on her shoulder. “I think it’d be more effective if you weren’t wearing a heavy hoodie,” Juliette says, a teasing lilt to her voice.

Luca swallows. “Right,” she says, too frozen to move.

Juliette’s other hand touches her hip, her thumb sliding beneath the hem of the hoodie and brushing across her skin. Luca grits her teeth against the light sensation. “Which side?” Juliette asks.

“Left,” Luca says. “It flares when I twist on my forehand.”

Luca laces her fingers together in her lap to avoid fidgeting. She is equal parts grateful and annoyed that she isn’t wearing a bra. Juliette’s knuckles graze across the offending muscle in her back. Luca tries not to tense, but slivers of pain cut into her.

Juliette’s palm splays across her back, cool against her warm skin. Luca shivers. “Sorry. Cold hands, warm heart, as mynonnaalways said,” Juliette says.

Luca snorts despite herself.

Juliette remains quiet as she focuses on gently running her fingers along Luca’s spine, her fingertips dipping to brush against the dimples adorning Luca’s lower back.

The silence is oppressive, and Luca struggles to breathe through the soft and tender way that Juliette feels her aching muscles and tries to soothe them with gentle pressure. Soon, the noise in her head quiets, and the tangle of thoughts she’s been trying to ignore slowly starts to unwind.

“Can I ask you something?” Luca asks, and Juliette hums in agreement. “Would you ever quit tennis?” Luca has been thinking about her career, her own choices, and the fact that the choice might be stolen from her by an injury one day.

She expects Juliette to scoff and say no immediately. Instead, her fingers still. Then she sighs, her warm breath skating over the back of Luca’s neck. “I don’t know,” she admits.

Luca waits and gives Juliette the space to continue.

“I’ve been fighting for my ranking for years, so I feel like I can’t give it up. My family is so entirely wrapped up in the sport, and it would feel like such a waste to throw it all away.”

Luca swallows. “But does it make you happy?” Juliette’s fingertips press into her skin, and pain flares. Luca hisses through her teeth, and Juliette flinches away. “Don’t stop,” Luca whispers. “It’s working.” She doesn’t know if it is, but she doesn’t want Juliette to stop. Her touch is addicting.

“Erm, sometimes,” Juliette answers, her fingers returning to Luca’s skin, as if drawn by a magnet. “Sometimes I hate it so much I want to quit. The highs are incredible but the lows… they threaten to break me in half. I’ve seen it break both of my sisters, and yet they keep coming back. I do love this silly sport, but I don’t know if I want it all the time.”

This time, when Juliette presses in, there is no pain, only a burning warmth that unwinds each of her tense muscle fibers. Luca sighs as relief sprawls through her body, relaxation taking over. She didn’t realize how much lingering pain was lacing through her back and how tight it was making her.

“It’s so stupid to talk this way,” Juliette says with a croaky laugh. “I’m so lucky to get to do this for a living. I travel the world and meet incredible people and make a lot of money. I’m in amazing physical shape. I know I’m privileged to have this life.” Juliette pauses, breathless and suddenly quiet, but her fingers keep rubbing against Luca’s aching back.

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