Chapter Forty-Four Luca
FORTY-FOUR LUCA
It takes a lot of Luca’s mental energy not to appear shocked by the artist’s apartment that Juliette opens up for her.
“It’s awesome, isn’t it?” Juliette turns in a slow circle with her arms out, as if to properly display it. Her eyes are bright and excited, giddiness written on every line of her body.
Luca tries to look at the apartment with fresh eyes. It’s certainly… artistic. Although the first word that springs to mind is kitschy .
It is bright, though. A lovely summer breeze drifts in from the open kitchen window, ceiling fans stirring the late August wind.
The creaking shelves to her left are laden with artfully stacked books, an antique desk to her right.
Photos and oil portraits line the walls, some crooked and others asymmetrically organized together.
“It’s interesting,” Luca says, spying checkerboard tiles in the dining room area that leads into a kitchen.
Juliette wheels Luca’s suitcase deeper into the apartment to where Luca assumes the bedroom is.
She takes one last glance around the mismatched living room before following.
The bedroom isn’t large, but Juliette’s artist friend didn’t compromise with a tiny bed.
It’s fluffy and piled high with blankets they probably won’t need, since a wheezy air conditioner in the window is threatening to kick the bucket.
“No tub, but the shower is big enough for both of us,” Juliette says with a suggestive waggle of her brows.
Luca laughs, too loud, and she pinches her palm in an effort to calm the storm of nerves threatening to drench Juliette’s happiness.
“Is everything all right?” Juliette asks.
Luca tries to smile, but she can’t help picking at the skin around her thumb again.
Juliette frowns, unconvinced. The afternoon sunlight catches her just right, illuminating her hair to vibrant gold and bronze, honeying her skin, and shooting amber ribbons through her brown eyes.
Luca licks her lips and fumbles for the right words. Her tongue is mush in her mouth, her insides twisting into elaborate knots. “Sorry, uh—” she starts, shaking her head. “It’s stupid,” she blurts.
Juliette steps forward and out of the light. She gently tugs Luca’s hands into hers, lacing their fingers together. A bit of the tightness in Luca’s throat loosens with her touch. “Tell me? Please?”
Luca is powerless to say no. “It’s really nothing. I feel anxious in new places, that’s all. It’ll go away.” It’s already ebbing away as Juliette holds her hands.
“Will walking around help? We can go to the store and get food.” Juliette tilts her head, and Luca nods.
“It would, actually, let’s go.”
The city is warm and sticky, but the fresh air and Juliette’s voice sweep the rest of her unreasonable anxiety away. Now, she only feels the giddy nervous energy that comes with holding a secret close to the chest.
She manages to keep herself together as they gather groceries, get a quick lunch, buy bottles of wine, and head back to the apartment.
They lapse into easy conversation on the subway, each sway of the car tipping them back and forth, almost into each other and then farther away like they’re two rogue stars spinning off balance but still locked together by unseen gravity.
By the time they return, the apartment is bathed in beautiful golden sunrays. It’s hot in a pleasant, summer nostalgia-type of way. It sinks into Luca’s skin, calms the fizzy feeling in her stomach, and makes the chilled wine taste even sweeter.
In the tiny kitchen, she’s almost overwhelmed by the woody and earthy scent of Juliette’s perfume mixed with the citrus curl cream she uses and the fresh lavender on the windowsill. It’s distinct and heady and makes her head swim.
Luca doesn’t resist flicking on the old radio. She holds out her hand to Juliette.
“Really?” Juliette asks, aglow in the linen-softened sunlight.
“Dance with me,” Luca says, completely serious.
Juliette laughs, taking her hand. Her eyes gleam like the wine-dark sea and she beams like she’s swallowed the sun.
Together they sway in circles, wrapped in each other’s arms and trading kisses.
Perhaps it’s only fitting that now they dance together, after so long dancing around each other.
They’ve found a groove and a harmony that weaves effortlessly.
Luca knows they’re objectively terrible dancers, but that isn’t the point.
They may bump together, uncoordinated, but there’s never anger, only sweet joy.
Juliette tugs Luca into the living room and pushes her onto the couch. “Stay there. Don’t move.”
Luca holds up her hands as Juliette vanishes into the bedroom. Luca doesn’t know what to expect, and her heart thunders in her chest. She grabs her glass of wine from the table and takes a swig, the ice clinking unpleasantly against her teeth. She shudders and puts it down.
When Juliette returns, she is braless in a gray tank top and shorts slung low on her hips. “Hi,” she says, standing in the doorway.
“Hey, yourself,” Luca says, leaning her elbows onto her knees.
“I want you,” Juliette says.
Luca’s breath hitches, fervent heat growing in her stomach. “Come here, then.”
Juliette comes closer and kneels in front of Luca. “If you ever want to stop—”
“I’ll say Margaret Court, don’t worry,” Luca says with a laugh. Juliette bursts out laughing too, lowering her head to Luca’s knee.
“Glad you remembered that,” Juliette says wryly.
“How could I forget?”
Juliette’s laughter fades as she takes Luca’s arm. “May I?” she asks, fingers brushing the wrap keeping her soulmark obscured.
Luca nods, the laughter catching in her throat. Juliette pulls the wrist strap free and sets it on the coffee table behind her. She lifts Luca’s wrist and presses a kiss to her palm, to the tips of her fingers, to the wristbones that jut beneath her skin, and finally to her own name.
“This is the first time I’ve seen it,” Juliette says softly, hovering her hand over Luca’s forearm and aligning their marks in the air.
Luca shivers despite the heat, and she swears it’s like the first time again, at the net when their palms connected. Radiant heat, incandescent, shimmers through her veins, and from the look on Juliette’s face, she’s experiencing the same vivid sensation.
It isn’t an emotion or feeling, but instead like every particle, every molecule, every atom has stilled. It is undeniably… peace.
Luca curls her fingers around Juliette’s forearm to connect their marks together, skin-to-skin, ink-to-ink for the first time.
“Wow,” Luca breathes, and Juliette looks up at her with big, round eyes.
“This is incredible,” Juliette murmurs. Then, slowly, she loosens her fingers and Luca reluctantly lets go, their skin’s connection breaking.
“I guess I know what to do if I ever have another panic attack,” Luca says as her fluttering nerves return slowly, more from excitement than actual anxiety.
Juliette nods and blinks, looking a little dazed. “Yeah, wow, that felt so good. It was like all of the discord fell into perfect harmony.”
Luca smiles. Of course Juliette would come up with the perfect philosophical simile to describe the indescribable. “Come on.” She stands and pulls Juliette to her feet, leading her to the bedroom.
Luca sits on the edge of the bed. The lighting has shifted to be lower, more burnished gold than bright white.
She feels the bed dip and turns her head as Juliette drops her chin to Luca’s shoulder. “Ready?” she asks, her voice a low, sultry murmur.
Luca draws in a deep, fortifying breath and nods.