She was now virtually assisting Juliet from a different country. Which Laura did impeccably, but Juliet had plainly just started to miss her.
Laura was quiet for a few beats, before she exhaled long and slow. “I don’t know; we’re still waiting on some test results. Also,my nieces lost their minds when your gifts arrived the other day.”
She could tell from the way Laura pivoted that she didn’t want to go deeper into her own source of stress. Maybe that was why Laura did understand her so well, because theyweren’tthat different, deep down.
“It wasn’t a big deal; I’m glad they enjoyed everything.” After Laura had told her about her brother’s health concerns, Juliet had sent a few care packages for morale. But she knew Laura’s nieces were very big into music, so sending some state-of-the-art supplies and signed records was, really, the simplest possible gift for her.
“I can assure you, it was a big deal to them.” Laura cleared her throat. “Also, in terms of work, I wanted to make sure you received the grocery delivery? I made sure to order a bit more, with Darcy coming to stay.”
“I did, yes. Thank–” She cut herself off, her gaze snapping out the large windows at the front of her house. From her second floor vantage point, she could see Darcy before she even got the alert vibrating on her phone. “She’s here.”
She could hear the way her breath hitched slightly in her throat with both excitement and nerves, already beating Laura to the punch, “And yes, I heard it myself. I will talk to you later.”
“Bye. Remember: honesty!” Laura intoned before hanging up.
Juliet made herself walk, not rush, down the stairs. She’d opened the door to Darcy – metaphorically – via text multiple times this week. Darcy had chosen not to respond in kind to her olive branches. She didn’t need to look pathetic and whip the door open, like she’d been lying in wait all day for Darcy’s arrival.
… even if it was the truth.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, and counted to five, before she opened the door.
Darcy was wearing a pair of ripped jeans – not designer kind of ripped, like Juliet had in her closet, but like worn-down-and-tore kind of ripped – and a baggy sweatshirt from an obscure music festival Juliet had never heard of.
Not wearing one of the shirts she’d stolen fromJuliet, she noted, her stomach twisting. Darcy hadn’t been photographed wearing any of the clothing she’d pilfered from Juliet in the last few months. Not that she could prove it was a pointed, calculated decision, but she knew it was. In her fucking soul, she knew it was.
Darcylovedto be spotted wearing her clothing, like a silent, taunting, teasing message for Juliet. Like, look whatI got away with taking from your closet. The six times it had happened, Juliet always knew even when she didn’t call Darcy out for it.
Because even when she did give Darcy an attitude about it, it sent a rush through her entire body.
But that rush, admittedly, had gone from purely sexual to feeling more likemine.
For the first time, Darcy didn’t walk right past her and into the house.
It was a kind of assumptive confidence that she’d found stupidly attractive since that first night, and Darcy had done it every time since. Walk right in like she owned the place and everything in it.
And, usually, she had Juliet coming for her within the hour, so it wasn’t a misplaced confidence at all.
Juliet acutely knew that Darcy wouldn’t be making her come within the hour, even if she’d managed to hold on to some sort of naïve hope.
Darcy lingered on Juliet’s doorstep, her hand resting on the top of her suitcase.
“Are you planning on coming in?” She asked, taking an obvious, wide step back in invitation.
Darcy reached up, slowly sliding her sunglasses to rest on the top of her head. Her full lips were pursed, and Juliet tried valiantly not to glance at them, even though she wanted to feel them against hers, as Darcy wordlessly pushed past her.
Even though her hands tingled with the urge to reach out for her, she tightly gripped her doorknob, and kept her other hand pushed against her thigh.
“How’s your week been?” She asked, slowly closing the door.
The question felt stilted and awkward on her lips, and she winced at it. She detested that fucking feeling.
She’dneverfelt uncomfortable around Darcy. Not even before they’d started hooking up.
“Good. Busy,” Darcy responded.
Yep. The bubble was certainly popped. Any of Juliet’s delusional belief that they could possibly go back to simple and uncomplicated, where she didn’t have to mix the hot, sexy, stomach-fluttering with Darcy and the messy stuff she did her best not to think about – all gone.
It made her want to dig in her heels, irate at that feeling of not being fully in control of her life. All of the unknowns and uncertainties felt so much bigger when life wasn’t operating within the parameters she tried to set up.
