Juliette’s face was red as she stepped out, and what I saw inside shocked the shit out of me, although it probably shouldn’t have: a body covered with a sheet atop what looked like an operating table.For fuck’s sake. She locked herself in the damn embalming room?
“I’m very sorry,” Juliette told the man. “I was curious about what was in here, and well, you know the rest.”
“No worries.” He chuckled as he locked the door. “I’m sure you learned your lesson with that one. I don’t expect you’ll do that again.”
“What the hell were you thinking?” I asked as we walked away.
Her voice shook. “I’ve always been kind of fascinated by funeral homes. That sort of ties into my interest in horror. I only meant to use the bathroom when I came down here, but then I saw this door and decided to peek inside. I quickly realized what it was and tried to leave. Though for some reason, the door locked behind me, and I couldn’t get out.”
“You had me scared shitless.”
“Youwere scared?” She laughed angrily. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get over that trauma.”
I rubbed her back. “Damn, I’m sorry.”
She blew a breath into her hair. “It’s my own damn fault.”
We went back upstairs to let my mother know what happened. She managed a laugh, despite the somber mood of the evening.
Juliette and I left soon thereafter, stopping to pick up a couple of pizzas on the way home.
I turned to her in the passenger seat while we waited. “So, did that guy under the sheet have anything interesting to say while you were locked in there with him?”
“I flashed him, and he had more of a reaction than you,” Juliette cracked.
I chuckled. “Good one.”
She winked. “At least someone wants me.”
Tense silence settled between us.
“You think I don’t want you?” I asked after a moment, gritting my teeth. “Farfrom it, Juliette.”
She leaned her head against the seat and looked out the window. The ride remained quiet the rest of the way home.
After we returned to Mom’s, Juliette and I demolished most of a large pizza.
When my mother came home, she joined us at the table and ate a couple of slices from the second box.
It had been a long night, so Mom retreated to her room early.
Back in our shared bedroom, Juliette brought up the subject of my ex-girlfriends. I was surprised it had taken her this long.
“So, there were parts of tonight that reminded me ofThe Bachelor,” she said. “Women were lining up to kiss you on the cheek. I’m assuming you dated some of them?”
I raised a brow. “Why would you assume that?”
She glared at me. “They were attractive and clearly still into you.”
“A few of them were people I dated years back, yeah,” I confessed. “I hadn’t seen any of them in forever.”
“None were significant relationships?”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
“Well, it’s a testament to the way you treat women that they would want to come and pay their respects to your grandmother all these years later.” After a moment, she added, “I can’t help being a little jealous of them.”
“Why?”
