Page 76 of Backhanded Compliments

“What?” Juliette’s playfulness morphs into confusion. “Why?”

Luca wriggles, and Juliette lets her sit up again. Her throat is tight, and she struggles to find a delicate way to tell her. “Your father is looking for you.”

“He’s not here?”

“Apparently he is, Jules,” Luca says. “Where is your phone?”

Juliette blinks against the light blearily. She has a streak indented on her cheek from the pillow, and Luca’s gut twists. She looks so soft and sleepy, and Luca wants nothing more than to cuddle her. Her brow pinches in adorable confusion. “Backpack,” she whispers, finally piecing together what Luca told her.

She finds it in the front pocket and hands it to her. It’s on Do Not Disturb, hiding all the missed calls. “Shit,” Juliette hisses, scrolling through her phone. “I have to go.” She throws the covers off.

Luca sits on the edge of the bed and shivers, cold prickling on the back of her neck as Juliette scrambles to pull her clothes on. Luca’s leg bounces, and it won’t stop.

“Hey, I’ll come over later, yeah?” Juliette says as she swings her backpack over her shoulder. She’s missing her shorts, and Luca realizes she put on Juliette’s this morning. She wriggles out of them and hands them over. “Thanks.” Juliette pulls them on, shoves her phone in the back pocket, and then tilts her head.

“Luca, it’s okay. Antony is just worried. I mean, he’ll want to kill me. But it’s fine.”

“I know,” Luca says, chewing her lower lip with her teeth. Logically, she does know this, and yet her heart hammers as if she’s run down a drop shot.

Juliette pauses. Luca wants to tell her to hurry, but then Juliette’shands are cradling Luca’s face, and everything stills. For once, Luca has to look up to see Juliette.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Juliette’s thumb arcs over her cheekbone, surprisingly tender.

Luca swallows again, her mouth dry. “It’s complicated,” she whispers, because she doesn’t know if she can verbalize the feelings that are swelling inside of her, roiling like waves during a storm.

Juliette’s gaze searches hers, warm and imploring, bursting with emotion. Worry, hope, concern, and maybe affection, too. It’s a little unnerving to see her bare of any mask. “We can talk about it now. I don’t want to run off if you’re upset about something.”

Her words settle a few of the jagged pieces scraping against her insides, melting them into softened goo. Luca curls her fingers around Juliette’s wrists, anchoring herself. She breathes, and for once, it doesn’t feel like her lungs are full of holes.

“It can wait. Go talk to your dad.”

Juliette hesitates but then she dips her head and kisses Luca, thoroughly. “It’s nice that I can just do that,” she whispers against Luca’s mouth as she pulls away.

“Do it again,” Luca breathes, indulgent as all of her anxiety blurs into radio static.

Juliette chuckles and swoops in for another. Luca slides her hand up the back of Juliette’s neck, reveling in the way she moans against her mouth. Exercising self-control, much to her own detriment, Luca lets go of Juliette and slumps back onto the bed.

“Leave before I tell you not to,” Luca says, and she hears Juliette laugh, clear and bright.

“Don’t miss me too much.” Juliette squeezes her knee.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Ricci,” Luca shoots back, her face too hot for her liking.

Juliette is still laughing as the door closes. Luca sighs, limbs boneless.

THIRTY-ONEJULIETTE

Arguments with her father always follow a specific pattern that Juliette knows like the back of her hand. Unlike their argument in London, Juliette can’t muster the energy to be upset this time. She is light on her feet as she makes her way down the stairs to her room.

She knows she should feel apologetic and submit to her father’s intense gaze, but Juliette doesn’t regret a single moment of being with Luca. Shedoesfeel guilty for forgetting to text, but that doesn’t mean Antony had to fly to Miami to scold her.

After a significant amount of fake groveling and promising she wouldn’t worry him again, Juliette wants to turn around and go right back to Luca’s room. Instead, she tells her father she’ll practice with him tomorrow for an extra hour and then goes to hit the gym to get rid of her excess energy. When she returns to her actual hotel room, it’s still fresh and unused.

However, the couch is currently being dominated by one particularly pesky younger sister.

“Livia.” Juliette groans as she traipses into the living area.

Livia taps quickly on her phone. “Hey, Jules,” she says without looking up.

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