Chapter 27 #2
“Darcy and I – we might be in the same situation right now. But I can already see it, even if she doesn’t.
I can see that it’s not… that she’s not going to be okay with the way things are.
The way things have to be. She hates pretending.
” Desperation clawed through her, and she shoved a rough hand through her hair.
“What we’ve been doing works so well for Darcy so far because she hasn’t felt like she’s being fake.
But what happens if this gets deeper and she does feel that way?
You know I can’t come out. Then it’s just… going to end.”
She came to a stop at the railing that overlooked the living room, staring down at her couch.
Picturing so clearly in her mind when she’d had sex with Darcy, there.
When Juliet had straddled Darcy while they’d been sitting there, kissing her for what felt like hours.
The morning they’d sat and drunk their tea there, after they’d performed live together.
Things that had started to feel real – because they freaking were – but… how long could that last? She’d wanted to exist in the bubble with Darcy for as long as possible, the bubble where they didn’t talk about those real things. At the very least, where Juliet didn’t talk about her real issues.
She could hear Laura sigh softly, the sound loaded with understanding. “Isn’t it coming to an end right now? Without you actually trying to talk to her?”
While Juliet knew Laura was right, hearing the truth still felt like a punch right to the stomach.
“In my humble opinion, you don’t know that’s what would happen,” Laura pointed out, quietly. “You’re making a lot of assumptions.”
Juliet could feel herself frowning, wanting to refute Laura’s point even though she knew it was the truth. “Well,” she muttered, closing her eyes tightly, before she breathed out, “It’s easier that way.”
What if she did lay everything out for Darcy, and she still decided it was all too much to keep doing this? That would be worse than what was happening now.
“Hey, at least you’re being honest.” Laura’s tone was gentle, laced with a light teasing.
“That’s something, I suppose,” she dryly drawled. She reached up, wiping her hand over her eyes just to make sure no tears had accidentally fallen. “So, how is your brother doing? You know, since you have bigger problems happening.”
Laura was normally back in L.A. by the beginning of January after her three-week holiday break. But right before she’d been planning on coming back, she’d asked Juliet for an extended leave after they’d received a possibly concerning health update on her brother.
She was now virtually assisting Juliet from a different country. Which Laura did impeccably, but Juliet had plainly just started to miss her.
Laura was quiet for a few beats, before she exhaled long and slow. “I don’t know; we’re still waiting on some test results. Also, my nieces lost their minds when your gifts arrived the other day.”
She could tell from the way Laura pivoted that she didn’t want to go deeper into her own source of stress. Maybe that was why Laura did understand her so well, because they weren’t that different, deep down.
“It wasn’t a big deal; I’m glad they enjoyed everything.
” After Laura had told her about her brother’s health concerns, Juliet had sent a few care packages for morale.
But she knew Laura’s nieces were very big into music, so sending some state-of-the-art supplies and signed records was, really, the simplest possible gift for her.
“I can assure you, it was a big deal to them.” Laura cleared her throat. “Also, in terms of work, I wanted to make sure you received the grocery delivery? I made sure to order a bit more, with Darcy coming to stay.”
“I did, yes. Thank–” She cut herself off, her gaze snapping out the large windows at the front of her house. From her second floor vantage point, she could see Darcy before she even got the alert vibrating on her phone. “She’s here.”
She could hear the way her breath hitched slightly in her throat with both excitement and nerves, already beating Laura to the punch, “And yes, I heard it myself. I will talk to you later.”
“Bye. Remember: honesty!” Laura intoned before hanging up.
Juliet made herself walk, not rush, down the stairs.
She’d opened the door to Darcy – metaphorically – via text multiple times this week.
Darcy had chosen not to respond in kind to her olive branches.
She didn’t need to look pathetic and whip the door open, like she’d been lying in wait all day for Darcy’s arrival.
… even if it was the truth.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, and counted to five, before she opened the door.
Darcy was wearing a pair of ripped jeans – not designer kind of ripped, like Juliet had in her closet, but like worn-down-and-tore kind of ripped – and a baggy sweatshirt from an obscure music festival Juliet had never heard of.
Not wearing one of the shirts she’d stolen from Juliet, she noted, her stomach twisting.
Darcy hadn’t been photographed wearing any of the clothing she’d pilfered from Juliet in the last few months.
Not that she could prove it was a pointed, calculated decision, but she knew it was. In her fucking soul, she knew it was.
Darcy loved to be spotted wearing her clothing, like a silent, taunting, teasing message for Juliet. Like, look what I got away with taking from your closet. The six times it had happened, Juliet always knew even when she didn’t call Darcy out for it.
Because even when she did give Darcy an attitude about it, it sent a rush through her entire body.
But that rush, admittedly, had gone from purely sexual to feeling more like mine.
For the first time, Darcy didn’t walk right past her and into the house.
It was a kind of assumptive confidence that she’d found stupidly attractive since that first night, and Darcy had done it every time since. Walk right in like she owned the place and everything in it.
And, usually, she had Juliet coming for her within the hour, so it wasn’t a misplaced confidence at all.
Juliet acutely knew that Darcy wouldn’t be making her come within the hour, even if she’d managed to hold on to some sort of na?ve hope.
Darcy lingered on Juliet’s doorstep, her hand resting on the top of her suitcase.
“Are you planning on coming in?” She asked, taking an obvious, wide step back in invitation.
Darcy reached up, slowly sliding her sunglasses to rest on the top of her head. Her full lips were pursed, and Juliet tried valiantly not to glance at them, even though she wanted to feel them against hers, as Darcy wordlessly pushed past her.
Even though her hands tingled with the urge to reach out for her, she tightly gripped her doorknob, and kept her other hand pushed against her thigh.
“How’s your week been?” She asked, slowly closing the door.
The question felt stilted and awkward on her lips, and she winced at it. She detested that fucking feeling.
She’d never felt uncomfortable around Darcy. Not even before they’d started hooking up.
“Good. Busy,” Darcy responded.
Yep. The bubble was certainly popped. Any of Juliet’s delusional belief that they could possibly go back to simple and uncomplicated, where she didn’t have to mix the hot, sexy, stomach-fluttering with Darcy and the messy stuff she did her best not to think about – all gone.
It made her want to dig in her heels, irate at that feeling of not being fully in control of her life. All of the unknowns and uncertainties felt so much bigger when life wasn’t operating within the parameters she tried to set up.
“So, obviously, things are weird between us, now,” Darcy started, before Juliet decided what she wanted – or felt ready – to say.
“And… like I said last week. You really don’t owe me anything.
I don’t really want to get into it, because I think I learned whatever I needed to know at the hotel.
We just need to stay focused on the song for the soundtrack. ”
Darcy had learned whatever she needed to know at the hotel? What the hell did that mean?
“Us working together when we aren’t on the same page didn’t go very well when we attempted ‘Porchlight’ the first time,” she pointed out, rolling her eyes.
Granted, she didn’t really know what them being on the same page here would look like. Unless it meant Juliet opening up to Darcy, telling her all of the messy details about her life. Honesty, Laura had reminded her before hanging up, but…
But Juliet had built her entire career around burying those things down and putting on a smile. It didn’t feel easy at all, especially with Darcy staring at her, guardedly.
“I can be professional. Can you?” Darcy asked.
Juliet, alarmingly, didn’t really know. She didn’t know what was going to come from spending several days with Darcy in her house, just the two of them, nonstop. The last thing she felt about Darcy, whether she wanted Darcy to kiss her, fuck her, or fight with her, was professional.