“I don’t know what to tell you,” I begin, dragging a hand through my hair, clearly avoiding eye contact. “The sexual tension between the two of us has been simmering since I was here last time. Like, straight up cooking. I couldn’t resist.”
She nods like she’s been expecting this and raises an eyebrow. “And…?”
I swallow again, stalling. “And nothing,” I admit, finally cracking. My shoulders slump a little, the weight of it all suddenly a lot heavier. “I went home with him. Chickened out. Did some…almost third base stuff. You know, the usual.”
She’s watching me closely now, waiting for the punchline. So I give it to her.
“But there was zero penetration…” I pause for effect, “from him,” I add quickly, a grin sneaking its way onto my face as I throw her an extra curveball.
She levels me with a flat look, eyes narrowing like she’s trying to decide if I’m messing with her or genuinely being this vague. “That’s all you’re going to tell me? I don’t think so. Spill. Like you would ever let me get away with so little detail.”
A laugh escapes my lips because, well, she’s absolutely right. “Are you sure you’ve got your hormones in check enough to hear the details? Because between your wedding night and what went down yesterday, they mightnot be able to handle it.”
She settles into her seat, folding her legs up on the chair and getting comfortable for a long, juicy story. She leans back slightly, her eyes practically glowing with anticipation. “Oh, I’m ready.”
This is about to get a whole lot more real than I was planning. The words bubble up, threatening to spill over, and if I’m being honest, I can’t stop them now even if I wanted to. So, naturally, I do what any semi-sane person would… I bare every last detail, no matter how small, no matter how scorching hot.
The words tumble out in one wild, unfiltered confession. Every heated moment, every unsure thought, and every intense, spontaneous decision is out there. There’s no going back or pretending I didn’t just spill my soul all over the place.
When I finish, Juliette’s jaw is practically on the floor, her eyes wide, her shocked expression full of disbelief. “Holy hell, Bree. How are you feeling about all of that?”
God, I love her. She’s not cheering me on like some reckless friend, telling me to “go for it” without a second thought. No, instead, she’s genuinely concerned about how I’m processing it all. She’s always tuned in to the emotions of everyone around her, and right now, she’s all in, focused on me. The way she cares so deeply makes my heart swell, and suddenly, all that chaos I just unleashed doesn’t feel so overwhelming.
“Honestly?” I ask.
She nods. “Always.”
“I do like him, which is terrifying,” I admit. “And I apparently have some intimacy issues. but none of this matters because I leave in a couple days and don’t have plans to come back, unless it concerns you.”
Juliette tilts her head in the way she always does when she’s really listening. She hears what I’m saying and what I’m not. The stuff I’m trying to hide behind, the bravado, and the walls I’ve built up over the years. She’s looking at me like she already knows everything, like she’s been reading me the whole time without me even realizing it.
“What, I just opened the verbal floodgates and left you speechless?” I ask, trying to deflect with humor, but there’s a little wobble in my voice I can’t hide.
She smirks, a small laugh slipping out. “Not speechless. Just…processing.”
It’s almost like she’s seen this kind of mess before, and it doesn’t faze her at all. She doesn’t rush me, doesn’t judge.
Oh, right. Shehasbeen here before.
I nod, the realization sinking in. “I guess you understand better than anyone, huh?”
Her eyes soften even more, her expression gentle but knowing. “I do. I also learned the hard way that the things that scare us the most are the ones worth fighting for.”
She reaches out and takes my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Bree, I’ve seen you go through the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. I’ve never seen you light up the way you just did, even while you were panicking.”
A lump forms in my throat, and I have to bite my lip to keep the tears from falling. It’s like she just reached into my chest, pulled out all the chaos, and made it feel…okay.
“This is probably just infatuation. I mean… You’ve seen him. You married what might as well be his twin.”
She shakes her head. “Infatuation doesn’t make you terrified. It doesn’t make you question your life plans. What you’re feeling? That’s real.”
I let out a frustrated sigh, half laughing, half groaning. “Well, shit. That sucks. So much for my blissful bubble.”
She quirks an eyebrow, and I wave her off, trying to brush it aside. “Let’s just keep this to ourselves for now, please? Callan hasn’t made any moves that tell me he feels this…strongly. I’m pretty sure he’s just having fun.”
“It’s your life, Bree. I won’t interfere. Unless, of course, I deem it necessary.”
“Brat,” I mutter, sticking my tongue out at her.
