Chapter Twenty-Three Luca #2
“She pulled out of the tournament. Back injury.” Juliette jerks her attention back to Remi. She licks her lips and sets down her sandwich. “I thought you knew. You guys seemed… closer,” Remi says, trailing off into silence. “You’ve been mentioning her a lot recently.”
Juliette winces. Close isn’t quite the word she would use. She takes a sip of water to avoid answering. Remi’s brows rise. “Well, I didn’t know,” Juliette says finally, setting her water glass down a bit too heavily. A few droplets splash onto her wrist.
Remi, finally having the self-preservation skills to know Juliette will probably punch her if she continues down this path, tries to navigate to another topic.
“Anyway, um…” Remi avoids finishing her sentence by inhaling the rest of her sandwich.
Juliette wonders how Remi doesn’t choke.
“How did she seem when you practiced with her?”
Heat spikes through Juliette’s stomach as she remembers Luca’s warm, wet skin against her fingertips, the heat of her flushed cheek, the flecks of green in Luca’s eyes brought out by the luminous fluorescent light and mist of water around them.
She can picture the frantic bobble of Luca’s head as she asked Juliette to kiss her.
“Fine,” Juliette says after a lingering silence. “Not injured, if that’s what you mean.”
Remi tilts her head, the sun slanting through the windows and lighting her usually dark eyes to warm brown, shining with striations of copper, reminding Juliette of Livia’s tiger’s eye crystals. “What else was she like? Anything you want to talk about?” Remi wriggles her brows.
Juliette rolls her eyes. “Shut up.”
“Come on,” Remi whines.
Juliette hesitates. She isn’t used to considering Remi as a potential friend.
Juliette doesn’t have any real friends beyond her sisters and Leo.
Too busy and too focused on herself and her career.
But now after the Connolly Cup, she understands Remi.
Even if she doesn’t love Remi’s tendency to gossip.
Remi kicks her under the table.
“Ow!” Juliette complains, even though it didn’t really hurt. “You tell me first. How is it going with your soulmate? Are you two ever going to be public? Or even tell your friends you’re together?”
Remi blinks, caught off-guard. She rubs the back of her neck, brushing her fingers along the bun of braids there.
“It’s fine.” She sighs and tilts her head back.
“She doesn’t like media attention, and she doesn’t think being public is important.
We know, and that’s all that matters to her.
And like, I get it. I agree that it doesn’t really matter.
” Remi stares out the window at the leafy green trees of the park surrounding them.
There are words Remi isn’t saying. Words Juliette isn’t capable of saying herself when it comes to her complicated relationship with her soulmate.
And even if Remi acts nonchalant, Juliette knows this matters a lot to her.
It’s a matter of the heart, a delicate balance that Remi seems afraid of upsetting.
Juliette sighs. Remi’s gaze snaps back to her, eyes wide and uncertain, a strange vulnerability to her.
“It’s clear that this matters a lot to you,” Juliette says finally.
“Anyone can see that. If it’s making you unhappy to keep it a secret, you should bring it up to her and have a serious conversation about it. ”
Juliette is surprised by her own capacity to give advice. She’s terrible at taking it for herself. Maybe Octavia is rubbing off on her.
Remi’s lips twist as she chews on the inside of her cheek.
She seems to be holding her breath. Then she exhales and slumps, letting go of the facade of composure.
“You’re right.” She leans on the table. “But I don’t want to upset what we have.
I can’t lose her.” She traces rings on the table, pointedly not looking at Juliette.
Juliette’s chest cramps, a feeling of understanding and empathy hitting her so hard she’s knocked breathless by the feeling. “I get it,” Juliette says, “but in the long run, won’t it hurt you both more to keep this problem festering?”
Remi looks up from under her lashes, frowning. “I hate you,” she mutters without any heat or anger behind it.
Juliette smirks. “Why? Because I’m right?” She kicks Remi under the table as retaliation for earlier.
It earns her the beginnings of a smile. “When did you get so good at giving advice? Your life is a disaster.”
Juliette shrugs. “Do as I say, not as I do?” she offers, and Remi laughs. Juliette counts it as a win.
“So, are you going to see Luca?” Remi asks, her playful smirk returning. It’s more at home on her face than her dejected hopelessness.
Juliette blinks. “What do you mean?”
Remi looks at her like she’s the biggest idiot in the world. “Uh, she’s injured. Don’t you think you should go hang out with her? Comfort her? I mean, wouldn’t that be a good place to try to rebuild trust with each other?” Remi tilts her head, considering Juliette with appraising eyes.
Juliette opens and closes her mouth like a silly guppy. How had she not considered that?
Well, she knows how. Because she’s a coward.
Juliette is afraid of pain and rejection, and she knows there is a very big chance that Luca will slam the door in her face.
But Luca might also consider that Juliette would understand.
She’s had an injury sideline her from a big tournament; Juliette knows how isolating an injury is.
Juliette scratches her wrist and makes up her mind.
“You’re right,” she tells Remi.
Remi smirks. “I always am.”
Juliette glares at her, but a smile tugs at her mouth traitorously. “Don’t push it.”
Remi laughs, boisterous and infectious, and Juliette gives up and joins in.
Approximately two hours and thirty-seven minutes later, Juliette stands outside of Luca’s hotel room, laden down with shopping bags.
Luckily for Juliette, Luca has been advised not to fly to America yet with her strained back.
She shifts, anticipation and excitement swirling in her stomach.
She’s grateful for all her sisters’ help at the grocery store, but she’s acutely aware that she probably bought too much.
After a bit of bullying over text—more like a lot of groveling and begging—Nicky had given her Luca’s room number.
She shifts the bags to one hand and knocks on the door. She bounces on her toes while she waits, time stretching uncomfortably long. What if Luca is asleep? What if she’s at physiotherapy? What if she’s with her friends or Vladimir?
Finally, Juliette hears the familiar click of the dead bolt sliding back, and the door swings open. Luca glares into the bright light of the hallway, her brow scrunched, and blinks. Her long and lanky frame is swallowed by an oversize black sweatshirt, the hood pulled over her hair. “Juliette?”
“Hi,” Juliette says lamely.
“If you’re here to try to have sex, I’m out of commission for today,” Luca says dryly.
Juliette chews on the inside of her cheek and shakes her head.
Then she hoists up her haul. Luca’s eyes lower to the bags, staring at them like Juliette brought a live snake to her door.
“I brought snacks. And games.” She tugs on the strap of her backpack.
“I figured if I can’t beat you on the court, I might as well kick your ass at Mario Kart. ”
Luca tilts her head and, without a word, pulls the door open wide to allow Juliette into the gloom of her hotel room.
Juliette weaves through the suite to the kitchenette, where she puts down the bags and her backpack. “How’s your back?” she asks tentatively as she starts to pull out snacks. There are several varieties of popcorn and chips, raisins, nuts, and about a dozen different chocolate bars.
Luca hunches against one of the high-top chairs on the opposite side of the counter. She shrugs with a single shoulder. “Hurts,” she mutters.
Juliette winces. She should have expected that. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I kind of bought everything.” She pulls out a bag of chocolate rice cakes, a staple of the Ricci household, even though Octavia and Livia hate them.
“I don’t usually eat this stuff,” Luca says stiffly, her eyes roving over the candy bars.
Juliette starts unloading the cheese.
“God, Jules, did you buy the entire store?” Luca asks, sliding into the chair and surveying the truly heinous amount of junk food.
Juliette turns away to hide her blush and opens the minifridge to stack the cheese away. “Maybe.” Antony would kill her if he could see her now. She shouldn’t eat any of this.
“Why?” Luca asks, a touch sharp.
“Ah, I wanted to make you feel better?” She clears her throat as it comes out as more of a question.
Switching gears, Juliette turns back to Luca and leans on the counter, closer to her, so she can look at her face.
“I know how shitty it is to be injured. Pain is isolating, and I didn’t want you to be alone in that,” she says, surprised by how quiet and tender her own voice sounds.
Luca looks away, biting her lip. “Well, thank you,” she murmurs.
“No problem,” Juliette says, trying to slough away the sudden urge to wrap Luca in a blanket and a hug. “So, what do you want to start with?” She grabs the bag of Jelly Babies and rips them open, popping two into her mouth. They’re almost too sweet. She isn’t used to having this much sugar anymore.
Luca blanches, looking overwhelmed by the choices. “Erm, I don’t know. What’s your favorite?” She fiddles with her hands, picking at the skin around her thumbs.
Juliette taps her chin as she thinks. “Close your eyes,” she says as she decides. It isn’t her favorite, but she thinks Luca might like it.
Luca stares at her, incredulous, but with a huff she does as she’s told. Juliette peels open a Bounce Hazelnut Praline bag and maneuvers around the kitchenette to stand next to Luca.
“You’re not allergic to nuts, are you?” Juliette asks, suddenly worried she might accidentally kill her. Luca startles at Juliette’s proximity, but turns her head toward Juliette’s voice, obediently keeping her eyes closed, then shakes her head.
“Open your mouth,” Juliette says softly.
Luca’s lips part, and Juliette carefully slips the chocolate into her mouth, her fingertips barely brushing her lips.
Luca chews and her brows twitch together as she tries to determine the flavors. Then, she starts to smile as she savors the bite. “That’s good,” Luca says, opening her eyes.
Juliette holds up the bag. “I read that praline is popular in Croatia, so I figured you might like it.”
“I do.” Luca grins, a dimple popping up at the corner of her mouth. Juliette wants to brush her thumb across it.
“It’s probably no Bajadera chocolate, but it’ll work,” Juliette says, fully aware she’s butchering the pronunciation, but it makes Luca laugh. Juliette pops one into her mouth and sighs as the deliciously smooth chocolate melts over her tongue and the almond butter blooms with a nutty sweetness.
“Thank you,” Luca murmurs, and when Juliette looks at her again, Luca is staring at her with a softened expression.
Juliette’s stomach flips as if she’s falling.
She’s nearly used to the sensation. “All right,” Juliette says, leaning away from the sudden sappiness that threatens to overwhelm her.
“I doubt it’s good for you to sit on a metal chair.
Go lay down.” She shoos Luca out of the chair and to the couch, grabbing a handful of snacks and two bottles of orange Lucozade.
“You don’t have to stay,” Luca says, arranging herself on the couch, two pillows supporting her back and a bag of half-melted ice on the coffee table.
Juliette dumps the haul on the table. “Do you need a new ice bag?”
Luca shakes her head. Juliette takes the ice bag to the sink so the water doesn’t ruin the wood. “I don’t have anything else to do, but if you want me to leave, I can,” Juliette says, facing away from Luca. She doesn’t want Luca to see the disappointment on her face if Luca asks her to go.
“No, you don’t have to leave,” Luca says quickly, and Juliette lets out a sigh of relief. “I just don’t want you to feel like you’re obligated to stay.”
Juliette returns to the living room and plops down on the love seat adjacent to Luca’s couch and unzips her backpack. “We’re friends,” Juliette says. Maybe if she says it enough, it’ll become true. “So, movies or games?”