Chapter Thirty Luca
THIRTY LUCA
It’s dark when Luca jerks awake. Her heart thunders in her chest, but the nightmare is already slipping through her fingers, details too fuzzy to remember.
The fear claws at her throat, and she swallows it back, pressing her knuckles against her sternum.
She is sticky with dried sweat, and her limbs are heavy on the satin sheets.
She hears soft snoring and panic floods through her.
Luca forces herself onto her elbows. Juliette is beside her, turned away, and Luca stares at her back.
She blinks and her sleepiness falls away, her memory of their night piecing together.
Juliette’s breath rises steadily, her curls in a tangle across the pillow.
Luca can’t fill her lungs with enough air.
She shoves the sheets off her legs and stumbles into the bathroom.
She stares at her reflection in the mirror, her fingers tentatively touching the hickeys fanning across her collarbones and down. “Oh, wow,” she mutters. Her hands shake as she pulls out her hair tie and runs her hands through her sweaty hair, tangled from Juliette and the bed.
Luca doesn’t regret what happened—quite the opposite. She never wants to stop. And even though her heart hammers at the thought, she doesn’t feel the familiar tug of panic that often spirals her thoughts out of control. Maybe she’s still a little sex-addled and syrupy.
She brushes her thumb along the bruise that shadows the edge of her breast. She likes that Juliette has marked her, as if Luca belongs to her. It sends a shiver down Luca’s spine.
Luca shuffles back out of the bathroom, carefully tiptoeing as she pulls on the first hoodie and pair of shorts she finds.
Juliette should be exhausted and dead to the world, but Luca still gently clicks the door closed.
She wanders up to the roof, desperate for some fresh air.
It’s late, past four in the morning, and abandoned.
The night is a heavy ink curtain, but there’s a gentle ocean breeze.
Luca slides into one of the many loungers and curls her legs into her chest, pressing her cheek against her knees. Her stomach curdles as she tries to weave through the complicated mess of emotions boiling in her gut.
Once again, Luca knows so much of what she’s feeling is informed by her worry about being hurt.
But Luca can’t deny that something has shifted between them.
Whether they admit it or not, Juliette cares about her.
From checking in on her during sex to bringing her snacks and talking about her fears, it soothes some of the nagging anxiety that Luca usually lets rule her life.
Juliette is her soulmate . Even if Juliette doesn’t value that as much as Luca does, she decides she can trust in that.
Luca lifts her head and stares at the lightening sky. Soft pinks spread out from the silhouette of Miami’s skyscrapers. She uncurls her legs and heads back to her room, more clear-headed than before.
The air-conditioning chases away the heat and humidity from Luca’s skin as she steps back into the lavish room. Her phone buzzes on the table, and she snatches it up. Half past six in the morning.
There are about a dozen missed calls from Vladimir.
Confusion and panic ribbon through her, and she clicks on one of the many missed call notifications without listening to the voicemails.
Vladimir answers on the second ring. “Luca?”
“What’s wrong?” she asks, sinking onto one of the couches.
“Do you happen to know where Juliette is?” Vladimir asks calmly.
Luca chews on a hangnail, debating how to answer. “Yes, why?” she asks finally.
“Is she in your room?”
Luca glances at the closed door. “Yes. Why? What’s going on?”
Vladimir sighs, and then in English says, “Antony Ricci called me and demanded to know where his daughter is.”
Luca winces. “Yikes.”
There is a bit of muffled yelling, and Vladimir sighs heavily into the phone. “I have a very angry Antony at my door because apparently, Juliette never told her family she made it to Miami. And her father accused me of sleeping with Juliette,” Vladimir explains far too calmly in Croatian.
Luca chokes on her tongue. “What?”
“Anyway, once I assured him I was not having a secret love affair with his daughter, we tried to figure out where she was or if she was kidnapped.”
Luca drops her head into her hands. “Oh, God.”
Vladimir pauses. “You don’t have to tell me, but why is Juliette in your room?”
Shame clogs her throat. “I’ll get her and send her down,” Luca says, her voice strangled. She doesn’t want to explain.
Vladimir hums. “Okay. Let’s go for breakfast down by the water. Karoline told me about an excellent place.” He sounds too normal, and Luca coughs over her nearly hysterical laugh.
She slowly gets to her feet. “Sounds good.” She hangs up and pushes open the bedroom door.
Juliette is sprawled like a starfish in the middle of the bed, still completely naked, and beautifully golden among the ghosts of white sheets.
Luca pauses, not wanting to disturb her, but she knows she has to. She pads over to Juliette’s side and sits down, gently shaking her leg. “Jules?” She flicks on the bedside lamp.
Juliette barely stirs, lost in a deep slumber.
“Jules, you have to wake up now.” Panic laces through Luca. What if Antony Ricci comes up to her room and demands to see his daughter? She would rather not confront him now. “Please, wake up.” Fear digs its talons in, and she clenches her fists.
Antony Ricci is not Luca’s father.
Juliette twists over and wraps an arm around Luca’s waist, half dragging her down. Luca yelps, caught off-balance, and Juliette plants a sloppy kiss on her cheek. “Time for round two?” she asks into Luca’s ear, her voice husky.
As much as she wants to curl into Juliette’s side and pick up where they left off, her anxiety threatens to swallow her whole. “Jules, you have to go.”
“What?” Juliette’s playfulness morphs into confusion. “Why?”
Luca wriggles, and Juliette lets her sit up again. Her throat is tight, and she struggles to find a delicate way to tell her. “Your father is looking for you.”
“He’s not here?”
“Apparently he is, Jules,” Luca says. “Where is your phone?”
Juliette blinks against the light blearily.
She has a streak indented on her cheek from the pillow, and Luca’s gut twists.
She looks so soft and sleepy, and Luca wants nothing more than to cuddle her.
Her brow pinches in adorable confusion. “Backpack,” she whispers, finally piecing together what Luca told her.
She finds it in the front pocket and hands it to her. It’s on Do Not Disturb, hiding all the missed calls. “Shit,” Juliette hisses, scrolling through her phone. “I have to go.” She throws the covers off.
Luca sits on the edge of the bed and shivers, cold prickling on the back of her neck as Juliette scrambles to pull her clothes on. Luca’s leg bounces, and it won’t stop.
“Hey, I’ll come over later, yeah?” Juliette says as she swings her backpack over her shoulder.
She’s missing her shorts, and Luca realizes she put on Juliette’s this morning.
She wriggles out of them and hands them over.
“Thanks.” Juliette pulls them on, shoves her phone in the back pocket, and then tilts her head.
“Luca, it’s okay. Antony is just worried. I mean, he’ll want to kill me. But it’s fine.”
“I know,” Luca says, chewing her lower lip with her teeth. Logically, she does know this, and yet her heart hammers as if she’s run down a drop shot.
Juliette pauses. Luca wants to tell her to hurry, but then Juliette’s hands are cradling Luca’s face, and everything stills. For once, Luca has to look up to see Juliette.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Juliette’s thumb arcs over her cheekbone, surprisingly tender.
Luca swallows again, her mouth dry. “It’s complicated,” she whispers, because she doesn’t know if she can verbalize the feelings that are swelling inside of her, roiling like waves during a storm.
Juliette’s gaze searches hers, warm and imploring, bursting with emotion. Worry, hope, concern, and maybe affection, too. It’s a little unnerving to see her bare of any mask. “We can talk about it now. I don’t want to run off if you’re upset about something.”
Her words settle a few of the jagged pieces scraping against her insides, melting them into softened goo. Luca curls her fingers around Juliette’s wrists, anchoring herself. She breathes, and for once, it doesn’t feel like her lungs are full of holes.
“It can wait. Go talk to your dad.”
Juliette hesitates but then she dips her head and kisses Luca, thoroughly. “It’s nice that I can just do that,” she whispers against Luca’s mouth as she pulls away.
“Do it again,” Luca breathes, indulgent as all of her anxiety blurs into radio static.
Juliette chuckles and swoops in for another. Luca slides her hand up the back of Juliette’s neck, reveling in the way she moans against her mouth. Exercising self-control, much to her own detriment, Luca lets go of Juliette and slumps back onto the bed.
“Leave before I tell you not to,” Luca says, and she hears Juliette laugh, clear and bright.
“Don’t miss me too much.” Juliette squeezes her knee.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Ricci,” Luca shoots back, her face too hot for her liking.
Juliette is still laughing as the door closes. Luca sighs, limbs boneless.