Chapter Eleven Juliette
ELEVEN JULIETTE
Juliette avoids Kacic and busies herself with throwing out the trash. When she gets back outside, the familiar bickering she’s known all her life washes over her and she pushes the breakfast conversation out of her head.
“I swear to god, Claudia, we’re here for five days. Did you need your entire apartment?” Octavia is saying. Her words are immediately followed by a heavy thump and a flurry of curses.
“You did that on purpose!” Claudia accuses in a high-pitched voice.
“I did not! But serves you right, bringing all of your shit from London.”
Claudia whines and bounces up and down on one foot, her giant green suitcase tipped over after having presumably fallen on her other foot.
“Come on, I thought you wanted to get to the beach,” Juliette grouses, crossing her arms over her chest.
Octavia rolls her eyes. “Tell her to stop being so dramatic.”
“Can I help at all?” a timid voice asks from behind Juliette. Goddamn Kacic.
“Oh, of course!” Claudia grins, her foot landing on the ground as she gives up on the ruse of being exceedingly dramatic.
Juliette forces her shoulders down from her ears. She refuses to jump every time Kacic is near. Claudia shoves her backpack into Juliette’s arms, a slyness to her smile that Juliette hates. Once they’re laden with various bags and gear, Juliette bolts to the villa and heads upstairs.
“Put me as far away from those two as possible,” Claudia says, heading up to the third floor. “I do not want my beauty sleep disturbed by their fucking.”
“Claudia!”
Juliette snorts at Octavia’s outraged yell.
Claudia smirks over her shoulder and takes the room on the top floor with a view of the water. She drops her stuff unceremoniously onto the ground and rushes to the balcony, tossing the doors open and stepping out onto it.
A bag drops to the floor, and Juliette glances behind her. “I assume this is hers?” Kacic has another bag over her shoulder, black and monogrammed with the number eight. But the one she dropped is vibrant red and covered with various pins from Claudia’s favorite anime.
“Yeah,” Juliette says, her mouth dry as she stares at the soft blush that covers Luca’s cheeks and the bridge of her nose.
“Okay, bye,” Kacic says, shuffling from the room awkwardly.
“I still don’t see why you hate her. She’s very pretty.”
Juliette spins around. Claudia leans against the bedpost to kick off her shoes. “You don’t know her,” Juliette says flatly.
“You don’t either.” Claudia rips the scrunchie out of her hair and her blond curls tumble around her shoulders, wild and messy.
“Come on, tell me, why is she here with you? We were supposed to arrive first as a surprise. It’s why Livia changed the flights.
” Claudia shimmies out of her sweatpants, tossing them onto her bed as she goes to her suitcase.
“She got here last night,” Juliette says, leaning back against the wall. She nearly knocks down a painting in her effort to remain cool and collected.
“Last night?” Claudia’s eyes spark and her brows raise. She pulls out her bikini and Juliette turns around.
“She said she didn’t have anywhere to go.”
“So she came to you?” There is thinly veiled excitement in her voice.
Juliette rolls her eyes. “No, Karoline probably told her she could stay.”
“All right, you can turn around.” Juliette does as Claudia shrugs on an old T-shirt over her head. “Well, I’m going to rally everyone to go to the beach. You want to come?”
“Someone has to be the greeting party,” Juliette says. “You go with Octavia and Leo. I’ve been at the beach all week.”
Claudia slides her flip-flops on and loudly clomps over to her. She tucks a loose curl behind Juliette’s ear and smiles. “I can tell. You’re very tan.” She taps the tip of her nose. “Sunscreen?”
“Always,” Juliette says, rolling her eyes. “Stop mothering me and go swim.” She lightly shoves Claudia out the door and can’t help but smile as Claudia cackles with glee.
Octavia tries to play hostess, but Juliette uses Leo to shoo her to the beach. She probably should have ordered groceries the night before, but Kacic’s arrival rattled her. Or so she tells herself, because she could have ordered them earlier, but she isn’t in the mood to be responsible for that.
The rest of the players chosen for the Connolly Cup trickle in slowly.
The youngest of the women is Bulgarian phenomenon Nadia Valcheva.
Or maybe it’s her twin, Tatiana. Juliette can’t tell, because she’s never played against her before.
Nineteen and quiet, there’s something about her wide eyes as she takes in the villa that makes Juliette think of a ghost.
Arriving right after her is the second best player in the world, Zoe Almasi. She’s Claudia’s close friend, and Juliette greets her warmly.
“Claudia is at the beach if you want to see her,” Juliette tells her as they bring the last of her bags in.
“Oh,” Zoe says quietly. Despite being a fierce competitor, she’s soft-spoken.
The direct opposite of Claudia in every way, and sometimes, Juliette wonders how they even get along.
She fixes Juliette with a neutral smile.
“Thanks.” She rubs her neck as if it aches.
“See you later.” Then she heads up the stairs.
Now that the majority of the women have arrived, Juliette sits on one of the many couches in the lounge and kicks her feet up with her laptop.
She needs to edit the photos she took during her week-long solo vacation.
She usually prefers to use film, since the first camera her mother ever gave her was from the 1980s, but Livia has been pestering her about more content for her Instagram, and it’s easier to use a digital camera.
She pops her headphones on, listening to her newest curated playlist. It’s mindless work, moving all the files off her camera and into the correct folders, so her mind slips into thinking about Kacic.
In the kitchen, glistening with sweat and lightly panting, how would she taste after her run?
Of sunscreen and sweat, washing off easily with whatever soap she uses.
Instead of sweat, Juliette pictures water splashing down the curve of Kacic’s throat, across her collarbones, running down her sternum to her belly and lower…
Juliette blinks, recoiling out of those thoughts.
She can’t think of Luca Kacic like that.
Maybe if they weren’t rivals, she could consider sleeping with her and then moving on.
Maybe if they weren’t soulmates, she could pursue a sexual relationship, but Juliette knows most people have expectations about their soulmate.
They want the romantic relationship, and Juliette won’t commit to that.
Hands land on her shoulders and Juliette startles, ripping her headphones off. “What the fuck?!” she screams, twisting around to find Remi Rowland smirking at her.
“I’ve been trying to get your attention for like, fifteen minutes, Jules,” Remi says, skirting around the couch to plop down on the opposite one.
Remi Rowland is the golden girl of the United States and, infuriatingly, a spot ahead of Juliette in the rankings.
Remi was the first of their generation to shoot to the top of the rankings, hitting the Top Ten before her nineteenth birthday.
The only ding on her career so far is her inability to close a Grand Slam final, but at least she always chokes in spectacular fashion.
Like when she won five straight games in the second set of her first Grand Slam final and then double faulted four times to give one of the breaks back.
Then, her nerves got the best of her and she lost thirteen straight games, gifting Zoe Almasi the French Open and the number one ranking.
Unlike Juliette, though, Remi has never been anything but easygoing about her big losses. Gracious in defeat and oozing charm no matter the scenario.
She grins with her perfectly shaped and plush mouth like she knows something Juliette doesn’t.
They haven’t always been friendly. Juliette’s temper clashes too much with Remi’s outgoing and bright persona for them to be anything more than acquaintances.
But in the last six months, Remi has seemed to be on a mission to be chummy and friendly with her.
“So,” Remi drawls in her sweet southern accent.
“You and Kacic, huh?” Remi toys with one of her box braids.
Juliette tenses. “What about us?” she asks through gritted teeth, and Remi’s smile, somehow, widens.
“How long has she been here with you?” Remi asks, leaning forward.
The sun warms her deep brown skin and catches on her high, chiseled cheekbones, illuminating her sparkling brown eyes.
Juliette itches to take a picture. This slant of light highlights her features so beautifully, and her fans, the “Rowdy Rowlanders,” would love to see it.
No wonder she’s always featured in sports magazines and New Balance commercials.
“Since last night,” Juliette says, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Have you two slept together yet?”
Juliette’s jaw drops. “What?”
Remi waggles her brows like she’s twelve again. “Did you?” she asks impatiently.
As if she has any right to know.
“Why would you ask that? And why would I tell you?” Juliette grinds out.
Remi grins. “So, you did.”
“No!” Anger burns in the back of her throat, and she’s sure a flush is crawling across her face. “I will not be sleeping with Luca Kacic,” she clarifies sharply.
Remi raises an eyebrow, judgmental and thoroughly unconvinced at the same time. “She is your soulmate, isn’t she?” Her chin jerks down to Juliette’s left arm.
“None of your business,” Juliette snaps. So this is why Remi is suddenly interested in her. All for the gossip and drama.
Remi, having perfected the art of looking extremely skeptical and also completely sympathetic, gives her a look. “Sex with your soulmate is nice, that’s all I’m saying.”
There is a sudden quiet tenderness to Remi’s voice that makes Juliette pause. She blinks, suddenly uncomfortable with how weirdly open Remi is being. She has been dodging questions about her soulmate for years, even though she’s confirmed she’s in a relationship. “You found your soulmate?”
Remi shakes her head. “Oh, no. You do not get to ask questions about me when you’re in denial.”
“I hate Kacic,” Juliette says, but it sounds lame, even to her.
“Right,” Remi says slowly, drawing out the word.
The sound of footsteps approaching ends the conversation, so Juliette doesn’t dignify Remi with a response.
Zoe rounds the corner with Kacic, her hands moving animatedly as she tells Kacic something. As if drawn by magnets, Kacic’s eyes slide to Juliette and her lashes flutter as she blinks rapidly. She’s wearing a bikini now, stark black against her pale skin, and Juliette forces herself to look away.
“Hey, girls,” Zoe says, leaning on the couch back, close to Juliette. Her long, sable-black hair tumbles over her shoulder. Her dark brown eyes are brighter now compared to before, and she arches one bushy but artfully manicured brow.
“How was your flight?” Juliette asks.
Zoe shakes her head. “Didn’t take a flight. A train from London.” She fiddles with the gold rings on her fingers. “Long but peaceful.”
Maybe Juliette could do that to avoid planes.
Zoe looks from Juliette to Remi. “We’re heading to the beach. Want to come?”
Remi hops to her feet. “Oh, hell yeah. I need some sun.” She stretches, her crop top riding up.
Juliette glances behind Zoe to see Kacic standing by the kitchen island.
She fidgets with her fingers, a nervous tick, perhaps.
One Juliette has never noticed because she usually sees Kacic with a racket in her hand.
“I’ll join later. I need to get something to Livia.” Juliette glances down to see her files have loaded and Lightroom is up and running.
“Don’t wait too long. It’s gorgeous out,” Zoe says.
Juliette glances back at Kacic, noticing all the uneven tan lines that fade from cream to tan, a gradient in some places. “Don’t forget sunscreen,” she tells Kacic. “You’ll need it.”
Kacic frowns, a wrinkle appearing between her brows. “I haven’t forgotten.” She sniffs, looking away. She shuffles her straight honey-brown hair over her shoulder, pulling her sunglasses down from the top of her head and onto her face.
Juliette rolls her eyes and pulls her headphones back on, cranking up the music. She feels the heat of Kacic’s gaze on her, even long after she leaves.