Page 44 of Star Crossed
“I told him to stop busting my balls. Then I called him a dickhead.”
Jules wiped at her cheeks, a smile tugging at her lips. “Not nice.”
“He’s been called worse.”
“If you say so.”
“You’re not cursed, Juliet,” Romeo said endearingly, placing heavy emphasis on her full name. “And you’re not a bully. Trust me, I know bullies and you aren’t it.”
She pouted, tears still streaming down her face. “But I’m not one of those soft and sweet women like Melody. You’ve spent time with her on this tour with Clay. You know what I mean. What man would want someone like me when they could have someone like her instead? Someone lovable.”
“This man,” Romeo said without hesitation. “Not real sure if I count, but I like your rough edges. They turn me on.”
Jules found herself smiling once more in spite of the tears. “Yeah?”
“Oh yeah.” Romeo hummed, his voice still warm in a way that made her stomach tingle. “And I think you’re lovable. Very much so. In a different life it’d be easy to love you. Hell, it’d be easy in this life if shit wasn’t so fucking complicated.”
Jules’s breath caught as she sat there on her bed and tried to fully absorb what Romeo was admitting. She was vulnerable right now, but she was always practical. The same tiring warning bells went off and not only did she choose to ignore them, but she decided right then and there to turn them off completely.
“You count, Romeo,” she said softly as fresh tears of an entirely different nature rolled down her cheeks. “More than anyone else has counted—ever. More than anyone probably ever will.”
“You wanna do something different tonight?” Romeo asked with a hitch in his voice that was more than desire.
“Like what?”
“Let me see you,” Romeo said earnestly. “Video chat with me.”
Jules laughed skeptically. “Oh God, no; I look horrible.”
“That’s impossible.”
“I’ve been crying. I’m showered and dressed for bed. I don’t have a lick of makeup on.”
“That’s exactly how I want you,” Romeo said, confident and compelling, drawing her in. “Show me your rough edges, Juliet.”
The heat blossomed inside Jules, softening her, making her feel exactly how she needed to feel in that moment—womanly, cherished, lovable. Her breath hitched; her voice became husky in obvious arousal as she asked, “You’re talking ’bout more than just chatting.”
“Hell yes, I am.”
Jules wasn’t naive. She knew the dangers of revealing herself like that. He could record her. He could plaster her image all over the Internet. Three months ago there was nothing in the world that would’ve convinced her she’d be considering doing something that left her so completely exposed.
“I’m gonna do it too. Skin for skin,” Romeo said before she could make up her mind, reminding her of their night together in Las Vegas. “Fair enough?”
Now that wasreallydumb. The lawyer side of her brain wanted to scold Romeo, because the man was famous and a video of him jerking off would be worth a small fortune. Yet even as she formed the thought she really understood what he was saying. He trusted her, and she got the impression Romeo didn’t trust easily.
“Fair enough. I have to go get my laptop. I left it downstairs.” Jules stayed on the phone with him as she made the trek downstairs in the dark. She grabbed her laptop quickly, then bounded up the steps that creaked under her enthusiasm. She locked her door, hopped back onto her bed, and opened the computer.
It took them a bit to get the log-in taken care of because they’d never connected via video chat despite all the time they spent on the phone. Likely because they both knew where visually connecting would lead, and Romeo had obviously been as paranoid as she was—until now.
Jules had about twenty seconds to examine herself in the little window that appeared on the screen, and she didn’t like what she saw. All she had time to do was pull the scrunchie out of her hair, letting it tumble long and loose around her shoulders.
When the computer chimed and the connection was made, Jules buried her face in her folded arms as she lay on her stomach in front of the computer. All Romeo was able to see was the top of her head, and she was fine with that because her eyes were still red from crying and Wyatt’s old football jersey didn’t exactly look sexy.
“This is a horrible idea,” she mumbled into her arms.
“No, it’s not.”
Jules heard Romeo’s voice twice, once through the phone still pressed against her ear out of sheer habit and again through the computer. She hung up the phone and tossed it aside without looking up.
