Chapter Eighteen Juliette #3
Octavia shrugs. “One grows into their name, I suppose.” There is a soft bitterness in her voice that strikes Luca as odd.
Before Luca can ask any questions, they’re ushered into the museum’s grand entrance hall.
Austere white walls rise to show off the beautifully painted ceiling.
A wide staircase guarded by two lounging statues leads their group into another hall.
Starlike bulbs gleam from the ceiling, engulfing them all in a glittering warmth.
It’s as if they are the city’s first inhabitants from thousands of years ago, lit by the glow of torches.
Luca can’t help but fall silent in the face of such an expansive history as she takes in the sculptures that are artfully guiding them down the long, narrow hallway.
The marble pedestals display ancient Romans—soft-bellied women and lean men, the color chiseled away by time or design, their faces cold and dull.
As they pass a naked man with his arm up, Luca catches sight of a carving on his wrist, etched in a language that Luca can’t read but assumes is classical Latin.
She pauses and Octavia lets go of her arm without a word, sliding away to continue through the museum.
“Wonder what his soulmark says?”
Luca startles and twists around to see Juliette next to her. “I do, yes.”
“I bet it was difficult to find your soulmate back then. Everyone had the same name. His is Aelia, I think,” Juliette says, tilting her head. The lights catch on the honeyed gold flecks in her irises.
“I hope they found each other,” Luca says, shoving her hands in her pockets.
Juliette looks at her, eyes tracing her face, as if searching for something. A sad smile plays on her mouth. Luca swallows, wondering how to bridge the gap between them. She hates that all her words tangle and clog in her throat.
Juliette breaks the silence. “Come on, we’ve lost the others.” Then, she spins on her heel and continues down the hall as if they’d never spoken.
She follows Juliette through the entryways until they reach one labeled THE GABINETTO SEGRETO. Luca doesn’t understand but as she steps inside, she’s greeted by a rather spectacular collection of phallic iconography.
“Oh,” Luca says, blinking. The room is dimly lit, but the cases show off dozens of erotic artifacts, while quite raunchy frescoes and mosaics dominate the walls. Heat floods her face, and she clears her throat, which makes Juliette laugh.
“Welcome to the Secret Cabinet.”
“Secret Cabinet, I guess that makes sense,” Luca says, gesturing to the expressions of human sexuality everywhere. She moves around the gallery, some of her embarrassment starting to fade. It’s art , not a porno.
She pauses in front of a painting of a man with an absurdly long cock. “Well, that guy must have thought highly of himself,” Luca says.
Juliette snorts, as if surprised by the joke. “That’s Priapus,” she says, and Luca turns to look at her.
“Don’t tell me you’re a history buff too?” Luca hopes Juliette doesn’t hear the fondness in her voice.
Juliette shrugs. “I might be.” Her gaze falls to Luca’s throat.
Luca swallows.
“Your tie is uneven,” Juliette says. “Let me fix it.” She moves in before Luca can stop her and gently unravels the knot at the base of her throat.
Luca runs her fingers through her hair, gathering it into her hand so it doesn’t get stuck in the tie.
Juliette loops the tie around Luca’s neck with ease and fluffs her collar.
Her fingertips are warm as Juliette presses them flat against the back of Luca’s neck.
Luca lets her hair fall and then shoves her hands into her pockets to hide their trembling.
Juliette doesn’t look at her, entirely too focused on the task of securing the perfect bow.
It allows Luca the opportunity to study Juliette’s face, all her features up close for Luca to memorize.
Who knows when they’ll be this close again?
Even if Luca won’t allow herself to be with Juliette, she can still indulge in this moment.
Juliette’s long lashes are covered in mascara, her thick dark brows relaxed out of their usual pinch, and the straight slope of her nose has shimmer on the end of it.
Her lips are light pink, plump, and full, begging to be kissed.
Luca forces her eyes away from Juliette’s mouth, and the light catches a rogue speck of glitter on Juliette’s cheekbone, most likely from when she wriggled into her dress.
Without thinking, Luca reaches up and brushes her thumb against it. A spark of warmth makes the pad of her finger tingle.
Juliette freezes. Luca wants to step away, but Juliette is only halfway through the knot. Her eyes flick up and she blinks, having caught Luca staring.
“Sorry. You just… never mind.” Luca looks away from Juliette but comes face-to-face with Priapus and his massive dick, so she looks back at Juliette.
It’s torturous to be so close and yet so far.
To smell the warm sweetness of Juliette’s perfume and still be able to pick out the grapefruit slice fragrance on her caramel-brown curls.
To remember the sensual heat of her mouth on hers and not be able to re-create it.
“Priapus was actually a good luck symbol. He used to scare off thieves, apparently,” Juliette says, a blush high on her cheeks, deeper than before.
“Really? Can’t imagine what’s so scary about a massive cock,” Luca says, trying to keep a straight face.
“Have you seen his?” An unabashed smile spreads across Juliette’s face. “I’d be intimidated.” She glances up from under her lashes, then finishes tightening Luca’s tie.
“Right, well, erm, thank you,” Luca stammers. She expects Juliette to step out of her space, but instead she smooths her hands down Luca’s chest.
Heat courses through Luca’s veins and her skin prickles as her throat goes dry. Juliette is still wearing a teasing smile. She’s sure that Juliette can feel her heart throbbing in her chest, hammering a frantic staccato that reveals her every thought in Morse code.
Juliette’s hands linger, and Luca barely remembers to breathe.
Her eyes, shining with warmth, search her face.
For days, Luca has been trying to figure out the precise color of Juliette’s irises.
In most lights, they’re dark, like earthy silt.
But in this direct slant of golden light, they’re an intense chestnut pool of mahogany and honey.
Luca feels the flush creeping up her neck at the scrutiny.
Then, Juliette’s hands drop, and she takes a step back.
Without the spotlight, her eyes return to their shaded dark brown, like autumn.
“May I?” Juliette asks, lifting her camera.
It hangs on a silken cord around her neck.
Luca’s breath hitches. “Ah, sure,” she says, trying to appear casual. She reaches up and tucks her hair behind her ear.
“Don’t smile.” Juliette lifts the camera, her thumbs easily fiddling with the buttons, knobs, and lens, adjusting the settings. “Act natural.”
Luca scoffs. “How am I meant to do that? You just put a camera in my face.”
Juliette’s eyes narrow into a playful glare over the top of the camera. Something about her smile becomes wicked. “Do you trust me?”
“No,” Luca says immediately.
Before Luca can react, Juliette reaches out and runs her fingers across Luca’s cheekbone, in a similar gesture to what Luca had done to her a few moments ago.
Luca tries not to seize up, but she can’t help but gasp. The camera clicks and Juliette lowers it, grinning. “Got it.”
“Can I see?” Luca asks, running a self-conscious hand over her hair.
“No,” Juliette says silkily. “Let’s go. We have rich people to schmooze.” And then Juliette slides around her and out of the gallery, leaving Luca in front of a wall of penises, alone and flushed.
Luca huffs as she hurries after Juliette.