Darcy tilted her head in obvious confusion at Juliet asking her a personal question.
Grudgingly, she admitted, “What, I can’t also be curious about you? You obviously know I find it… interesting, always being in the studio working in a group.”
“Interesting is not the way you’ve phrased it,” Darcy pointed out with a scoff.
She batted her eyelashes. “Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.”
Darcy scoffed again, this time edging into genuine laughter. “I mean, it’s not very interesting.”
Juliet frowned, eyeing Darcy up and down. “How could it be ‘not interesting’ so soon? You’ve gotten bored of having every door opened to you in less than a year?”
She’d seen far too many people fly too close to the sun when they got access to this world for the first time. But she’d never seen anyone beboredright away.
Darcy’s lips pulled into a considering frown, before she released a sigh. “It’s not like that.” She paused, drinking the last sip of her glass before she twisted the stem between her dexterous fingers. “Emerson has anxiety. Like, real, debilitating anxiety. The last thing she’d ever want to do is go to a big party or a club. She’d never feel comfortable being around a ton of strangers. And Blythe will only miss her nightly phone call with her fiancé if we’re working. Even then, she’s pretty pissed aboutit. Their ideal night of celebration is quiet, you know. Going back to wherever we’re staying, hanging out.”
Juliet found herself utterly fascinated.
“Okay, so that’s Emerson and Blythe. What doyouwant to do?” She pushed.
Because, really, she had only ever been interested in Emerson and Blythe as extensions of Darcy.
Darcy blinked at her, as if she was confused by Juliet’s very simple question. “I just told you. I like to hang out with Blythe and Emerson, and we don’t–”
Impatient for the answer she wanted, she waved Darcy off. “You told me what your sister and best friend like to do after a long day in the studio. I’m asking about you.” Rolling her lips tightly, she studied Darcy.
Studied the color that was a bit higher in her cheeks now that she’d had two glasses of wine in such quick succession, the effortlessly perfect tousled look in her hair, the gloss on her lips.
“You know that yougenuinelyhave access to anything you could possibly want. Right?” She pushed, wondering if Darcy somehow hadn’t comprehended that, despite all of the people falling over their feet for her in the last year. “I mean that. This isn’t Pineford.”
“Yeah, except I don’t have access toeverythingI could want,” Darcy muttered, her lips curling into a slightly tipsy, secretive smile.
And just like that, everything on Juliet zeroed in on her. What could it be? What could itpossiblybe that Darcy wanted that she believed, for some unknown reason, she couldn’t have?
“Come on,” she urged, leaning in slightly.
She’d love to tell herself it was all in an act to get Darcy to spill the truth, but the reality was she wasdesperateto know.
Darcy’s breath caught and held in her throat, before she uttered something Juliet would haveneverpredicted: “Sex.”
“I’m sorry.What?” The question came out louder than Juliet intended, as she reeled back to stare into Darcy’s eyes. For some reason, she was a little annoyed, because, “I thought we had this whole honesty-thing right now.”
“I was being honest!” Darcy insisted.
Juliet scowled at the utter ridiculousness. “Please. Darcy, if you want to have sex with just about any straight man on the planet, you could. And you could have had that even before everyone knew your name.”
“But I don’t – it’s not,ugh,” Darcy groaned, clearly agitated. She leaned forward, setting her wine glass on the table with a sharp snap. “It’s not about just having sex. It’s more complicated, now,becauseeveryone knows me. It’s like – I don’t want…” She rolled her lips as she stared across the studio into the now-empty booths they’d been in earlier, obviously searching for the words she wanted.
And Juliet wanted her to find them. Juliet, actually, was riveted to the spot. She wasn’t sure she could take her eyes off of Darcy right now even if the fire alarm sounded right above them.
That thrumming inside of her that hadn’t turned off all day was dialed in.
“Yes, I want to have sex. But even more than that, it’s what I wantduringsex.” Darcy turned to look at her again, her eyes glinting at Juliet in the dimly lit studio.
“I am all ears.” She’d intended for her words to sound a little glib, like she wasn’t as interested as she was, but they rasped out of the back of her throat like an invitation. “I could, probably, even advise you.”
“Yeah, right,” Darcy muttered, rolling her eyes.
Offense slid through her, and she leaned in closer as she challenged, “For all of the many suppositions and comments you’ve made about me over the last couple of months, Darcy, might I remind you: you don’t actuallyknow me.”
