Page 64 of Backhanded Compliments

Juliette drops onto the couch next to her. “Are you flying out of London soon?”

Luca looks away and wriggles her toes beneath Juliette’s warm thigh. “Tomorrow night. We’re going to Miami to rest and see if I’ll be healthy enough to play.” The strain isn’t too bad, and while a long transatlantic flight won’t be great for her muscles, Vladimir convinced her to splurge on a first-class flight.

She swears she sees Juliette’s face fall. “I hope you can. I’d love a rematch on a hard court.” Then she curls her fingers around Luca’s ankle, and heat ripples up her leg. “You can stretch out if you need to.”

Luca does not need to be asked twice. She slides her feet out from under Juliette and guides them over her lap. She wriggles down on the couch, settling her thighs over Juliette’s lap in order for her head to be on a pillow. Immediately, she yawns.

“Bored of my company already?” Juliette teases, one hand resting on her knee and drawing circles against her skin.

“Of course, you’re the least interesting person I know,” Luca says, crossing her arms over her chest and snuggling into her pillow.

“Well, shall we watch an exciting movie to liven things up?” Juliette asks.

Luca shrugs. “Play whatever you want. I don’t think much will keep me awake now,” she says, a wave of exhaustion hitting her as the remaining pain dissipates from her back.

“Sleep, then. I’ll wake you up later,” Juliette reassures. Luca’s view of Juliette is already getting blurry around the edges.

Luca yawns again as she nods. “Don’t leave, please,” Luca murmurs, and she isn’t sure Juliette even heard her before she sinks into dreamless black.

TWENTY-FIVEJULIETTE

Juliette watches with overwhelming fondness as Luca succumbs to sleep. Her head tilts to the side, her lashes fluttering, and within moments she’s snoring lightly. Luca is peaceful in her sleep, without her usual frown or iron-hard exterior. She looks nearly girlish, sweet in a way that Juliette has never seen before.

She sinks farther into the couch, one hand on Luca’s knee and the other on her thigh, content to sit and trace little circles against Luca’s skin with her thumb.

Juliette flips through her catalog of favorite movies and lands on the 1999 version ofThe Mummy. She knows it front and back, and the lilt of the Egyptian music is always comforting. She sneaks little glances at Luca every once in a while, but she never stirs, even as Imhotep steals the American’s eyes and tongue.

As the credits roll, Juliette gently nudges Luca’s knee. “Luca.”

“Five more minutes,” Luca mutters, eyes still squeezed tight.

“It isn’t good to sleep on the couch all night.” Juliette glances at her watch. It’s barely past seven, but she knows Luca will try to keep sleeping in her drugged-out haze. “Luca,” she repeats with fond exasperation.

Luca grumbles and curls her face into her hood. “What do you want?” she whines. Her eyes crack open, and she blinks against the light.

“I don’t want you to hurt your back more,” Juliette says gently. “You should sleep in your own bed.”

Luca shakes her head. “No.”

“Yes.”

Luca closes her eyes.

Juliette changes tactics. “It’ll be easier to cuddle in bed.”

Luca opens one eye to glance at Juliette askew. The start of a smile betrays Luca. Juliette lets her fingers trace up the inside of Luca’s knee to her thigh, drifting just beneath the hem of her shorts. Goose bumps pucker along her skin. Finally, with a swallow, Luca nods.

Juliette maneuvers herself out from under Luca’s legs and holds out her hand. Luca takes it, and Juliette helps lift her off the couch.

“Ouch,” Luca mutters and grabs her back. Juliette wraps her arm around Luca to keep her upright, taking a majority of her weight as her knees buckle.

“I got you,” Juliette says, and Luca’s free hand clasps around Juliette’s bicep, fingertips digging in.

“Sorry,” Luca murmurs, “I’m okay.”

Still, Juliette holds on to Luca as they hobble together into the bedroom.

Juliette is about to ask if she can lie down with her when she hears the familiar click of a key in the door.

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