Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Why today of all days,” Juliet grumbled on the phone to Laura, as she jammed her thumb against her eyebrow ridge as if it would work to relieve the throbbing, sickening pressure there.
Her assistant was silent for several seconds, before she asked, “Is this a real question or rhetorical?”
Juliet glared at the empty space in front of her in the hotel hallway. She didn’t even care if she sounded petulant as she answered, “Both.”
“Right, okay. Well, in the non-rhetorical way: whenever you haven’t been flying out to see We, The Romantics on tour, or busy with events or brand deals, you’ve been both reading and writing nonstop. Day and night. There comes a point where the well must run dry.”
She scowled at Laura’s very logical and correct answer.
For the last six weeks, she’d been doing exactly what Laura had listed.
She’d flown to see We, The Romantics – to see Darcy – four more times, usually staying Friday and Saturday nights in Darcy’s hotel room, then seeing her off onto the bus.
Juliet no longer lived the tour bus life, blessedly, when she was performing. She’d love to say she’d never go back to it, but the truth was that if Darcy had her own tour bus, Juliet would absolutely climb aboard.
But Darcy’s bunk wouldn’t even be able to comfortably fit them while they weren’t having sex. And sex would be completely out of the question given that Blythe and Emerson were also sleeping in their own bunks in the same space, with a curtain being their only privacy barrier.
Besides, Juliet needed her weeks to – as Laura had pointed out – work tirelessly on preparing for her next album.
She’d never felt such a fire lit under her, before. Not only that but she was inspired. She felt more creativity flowing through her veins than she’d experienced in a very, very long time. Maybe ever.
However, that had changed her typical schedule. Normally, she took a little break after wrapping up a tour. But after her tour had finished in December, she’d gone into planning for the soundtrack song with Darcy in January and then had dove right into this new album.
But she’d been looking forward to this for the last couple of weeks. Since Darcy had asked her to perform with them, she’d wanted it.
She wanted to perform live with Darcy again, which she hadn’t done since November. She knew, instinctively, that it would feel even better, now. Even more intense. That it would hit somewhere inside of her that she was craving to experience.
She’d manipulated the situation with Harrison, even.
First, she’d reached out to Thomas and to her PR team, telling them that We, The Romantics was interested in her as a guest performer on their tour.
Once her management was already on board – quite excited, really, about the prospect, given that Darcy’s tour was, unsurprisingly, being raved about – she’d called a meeting with PR, Thomas, and Harrison.
She’d deliberately backed him into a corner, forcing his hand into agreeing with what a great idea this was.
Juliet didn’t need Harrison’s permission for anything, but she’d managed to force his blessing, and made it appear that it wasn’t actually her doing, at all.
And now, she felt like her head was about to goddamn explode?
No.
Fucking no.
“You have your meds, though,” Laura informed her. “I double-checked it was in your pack-pile when you were in the studio this morning.”
“Thanks,” she muttered, squinting as Darcy’s hotel door came into view. “’ts in my suitcase.”
Unfortunately, her suitcase had been tucked into the very back of the car that had picked her up from the airport. Her migraine had really hit about five minutes into the drive to the hotel. Then, they’d been stuck in traffic for nearly forty minutes.
She’d tried to stave it off, lying back on the seat and covering her face with her jacket, the car in complete silence.
Rarely did a migraine reach the point where she started experiencing any serious aura symptoms, but she’d just heard herself slur her words together, and everything in the hallway was looking blurrier.
“Gotta go,” she managed, feeling herself start to sweat – well, sweat more – when she reached Darcy’s door.
Urgently, she reached out and hit her palm against it, swallowing tightly as her stomach started to churn.
Like… churn, a lot.
Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it. She was –
She’d just opened her mouth to shout Darcy’s name when the door opened.
There Darcy stood, her smile vibrant and bright, and Juliet couldn’t admire it for even a second.
She rushed past, heading straight for the bathroom. Stumbling over her feet as she went, clipping her shoulder on the doorframe.
Juliet reached the toilet just in time, closing her eyes and hoping it would pass sooner rather than later. She didn’t have the time to be huddled around the toilet today.
After a couple of minutes, when she was able to think more clearly now that the worst was over, Juliet was kicking herself. She should have had the presence of mind to shut the door and lock it.
It was one of her cardinal rules! Granted, not about this specific thing, but still.
Darcy was right next to her. Juliet had barely been aware when she’d come in, but she’d very gently tugged Juliet’s hair back, now holding it gathered in one of her hands, as she gently stroked the other one up and down Juliet’s back.
At least she had the cognizance – now – to reach up and flush to minimize the grossness of the situation. To preserve a little of her dignity.
As much as she wanted to stand up and brush it off, she was terrified of embarrassing herself even more. So she stayed where she was, kneeling next to the toilet for another ten minutes just to be safe.
When she finally leaned back, she was still nauseous, still had that pain hammering through her skull, but she was confident that there wasn’t anything left in her stomach.
“Migraine?” Darcy whispered, her voice as soft and coaxing as her touch, which slid all the way up to the back of Juliet’s neck, gently massaging there.
Juliet closed her eyes, lulled into Darcy’s touch. “Good guess.”
“I had some context clues.”
Juliet supposed running into her hotel room without so much as a hello as she rubbed her fingers over her eye and then vomited would be quite a tip-off. She grimaced, absolutely mortified. She could only imagine whatever Darcy thought.
Darcy’s voice gave nothing away, though. It was just soft and quiet, as she asked, “Where’s your injection?”
“Suitcase,” she rasped back.
Darcy slid her hand to Juliet’s shoulder, squeezing comfortingly, before she leaned in and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. Then she took off like a rocket into her room.
It made Juliet want to smile, even as she felt like garbage. Weak and clammy and shaky. She was sure that her head might have even been a little sweaty where Darcy had kissed her.
Darcy returned in less than a minute, breezing back in as she unceremoniously dropped to her knees next to Juliet.
With her eyes only open enough to see a slightly blurry outline of Darcy’s hand, she reached out to take her medication, her hand shaking slightly.
“I’ll do it,” Darcy insisted, gently tugging up Juliet’s shirt.
Juliet acquiesced, not having it in her to disagree. Not even wanting to. This entire thing was already embarrassing enough; Darcy giving her the injection couldn’t possibly make it worse. “It just needs to be–”
“At least two inches from your belly button. I know,” Darcy assured her, before she found a spot and pressed the top of the pen. “I looked it up after I saw you take this last time. The locations you can take the shot, how to do it. Just in case.”
Juliet tensed, holding still until they heard the pen click. Darcy lowered it from her, smoothing Juliet’s shirt back down, then keeping her hand there, softly rubbing her thumb in circles.
Darcy maneuvered them, moving so carefully as if Juliet were a porcelain doll, so her arm was wrapped around Juliet’s shoulders, and Juliet was leaning completely into her body.
Juliet had no willpower or desire to fight against it.
Leaning her head against Darcy’s shoulder was the most natural feeling in the world, especially right now.
Nothing in this moment could possibly feel better.
“Shouldn’t be that long now for it to kick in,” she said against Darcy’s collarbone.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Darcy assured her in a whisper.
Juliet let her eyes close, breathing Darcy in.
She didn’t fall asleep, not exactly. But she knew she went to that place in between sleeping and waking, like she was disconnecting her mind from reality and drifting. Waiting for the medication to kick in.
Even though her limbs still felt heavy, as soon as she felt slightly better, she forced herself up and out of Darcy’s embrace. Her entire body screamed at her, demanding she go right back to where she’d been, cuddled into that spot that felt made for her.
But if she did that, she’d never really pull herself together. And they had a show tonight.
In fact, they had soundcheck really soon.
She sat up straight, closing her eyes as she took in a long, slow breath, moving her head from side to side to stretch her neck. All right. She was ready to move.
Before she could attempt to push herself up to stand, Darcy stood up in a split second, offering both of her hands to Juliet to help pull her up.
She wanted to roll her eyes, but she accepted the help. Then, Darcy kept their fingers intertwined, and Juliet was happier to accept that.
Darcy’s stare was intense, scanning over her face. “What do you want me to do, now?”
She seemed poised to zip away and fetch Juliet anything under the sun. Juliet swore she could feel the vibration from Darcy, like she was ready.
“My toothbrush.” She winced doing everything in her power to ignore the taste in her mouth. “But I can get it myself–”