21. Juliette
JULIETTE
T he rest of the fundraiser was…fine.
As much as I wasn’t into the idea of seeing Preston again, I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t still as charming as he was the first time around. More so, now. But I’ve been disillusioned, because the charm doesn’t negate how much he hurt me when he moved away and left me here with a single text.
All seeing him again showed me is that I’m no longer angry about the past. I can let go and move on, but my parents are out of their minds if they think I’m going to be with him.
They’re lucky I even agreed to date him at all , and I’m damn sure not going to let him take me to the VU Founders’ Gala in a few weeks.
Part of me—the vindictive part—hopes Roman sees the tabloid headline that will inevitably run.
Stupid, really.
He obviously doesn’t care.
Now that I’m back in my bedroom and the world around me is quiet, sleep is hard to come by. I throw the covers off and make my way to my balcony doors.
Why can’t I just turn my brain off?
I debate calling Felicity to fill her in on the current state of my life but decide against it.
She’s either asleep or in Keagan’s bed, and I don’t have any desire to interrupt either way.
Besides, once she hears Preston is being shoved into my orbit again, she might fly back just to be the go-between.
I settle with sending her a text instead.
Me:
Hope you had fun at graduation and did something in my honor like break up with Keagan!
Also…maybe we should find a place together when you get back? I thought I could stay at home, but being here makes me feel like a kid again, and it’s suffocating. DON’T say I told you so.
I purposely don’t mention Ryder— Roman —because I feel like a big enough idiot already without her shoving my failures in my face.
Throwing the doors open, I move to the balcony outside and lean against the smooth railing.
It’s quiet, every trace that there was a party earlier gone.
I’ve always loved having my room on this side of the house. It’s separate from all the other bedrooms, and unless someone comes outside for an after-hours swim, it remains the most secluded part of the property once the sun sets.
It’s a clear night, the stars winking at me, and I lean against the pillar that frames the balcony.
I hoped the silence would calm my mind, but it’s having the opposite effect.
A breeze blows across my face, the noise making the ivy-wrapped lattice that runs up the house rustle in the wind.
For the first time since I saw Roman earlier—since I found out who he was—I allow the full breadth of my emotions to unfurl inside me.
My chest is tight, like my ribs are clenching in on themselves and my lungs can’t expand. My jaw is sore from gritting my teeth so hard all evening, and worst of all, my heart falters and sputters every time I chastise myself for being such an idiot.
It’s not like I was in love with the guy, but there was potential there. And I know it for sure now, because being with my ex tonight made me realize how much stronger my immediate connection with Roman was.
“Roman Montgomery,” I murmur. “Why did it have to be you ?”
“I’ll be someone else, if it makes you forgive me.”
I slap my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming, my pulse pounding as I jump back from the railing. There’s a second’s pause, and then I’m leaning over the balcony ledge and looking down, trying to find him.
“Roman?” I whisper-shout, then glance behind me to make sure nobody is coming.
My stomach drops like a lead weight at the thought of him being caught.
“Where are you?” I ask again, not finding him in the darkness. “Wait! Don’t come out, they’ll…they’ll see you if you do.”
I take a deep breath, trying to stay calm.
There’s another noise, and then he appears over my balcony’s ledge, a cocky grin on his face as he hangs onto the lattice.
“They won’t see,” he reassures, but then he pauses. “I don’t think.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” I hiss, wanting to smack the stupid smile from his features.
He frowns. “You’re mad.”
I cross my arms, releasing an agitated breath. “I’d have to care about you to be mad.”
His lips purse, and then one of his hands lets go, his body swinging down, creating a large rattle when his back slams against the wall of the house.
My heart jumps into my throat.
“Be careful!” I demand. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Roman looks at me pleadingly, the skin under his tattooed hand blanching white from how tightly he’s holding onto the trellis. “Say you forgive me.”
I glare at him. “No.”
“You are mad.”
I throw my hands into the air, annoyed by his antics and even more irritated at the spark of excitement that’s blooming because he’s here.
What kind of a person am I that even after knowing he’s lied to my face and is the son of my family’s biggest rival…I still react at the sight of him?
“If the fall doesn’t kill you, my family might when they find you here. So, suit yourself…what do I care, anyway?”
“Juliette,” he groans, his fingers slipping from the slats until his body drops another inch.
I lurch forward like I can save him.
“Would you cut it out ?” I hiss, glancing behind me again.
Still, nobody comes.
“Say you forgive me,” he demands again.
I frown at him, although I secretly like that he’s here and trying to make amends. “You haven’t apologized yet.”
“You’re right,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
I lean against the pillar of my balcony and look at him, part of me enjoying his suffering. “For?”
“Existing, I guess.” The teasing lilt disappears from his voice. “And for not being honest, although there is a reason, if you’d let me explain.”
I sigh.
His fingers slip more, and his body slides down. “ Shit ,” he exclaims.
“Fine!” I half shout, and then repeat quieter, “Fine. I forgive you.”
A beaming grin spreads across his face, and he easily pulls himself back up, throwing one leg over the railing and then the other until he’s standing right in front of me on my balcony. “I knew you cared.”
My mouth unhinges.
Anger thrums through me, and before I can stop myself, I’m shoving his chest. “Are you out of your mind? You could have killed yourself.”
He grips my hands and holds them against his chest. “If you hate me, then I’m as good as dead, anyway.”
“And now you’re joking?” I shove at him again, and he chuckles, letting me go and falling against the pillar. “I do hate you,” I bite out. “I hate you.”
His smile fades, and a crease forms between his brows. “I came to explain.”
I look to the side, my arms folding tight against my ribs. “Pretty sure I got the gist of it.”
He shakes his head. “I didn’t know who you were, Juliette. I swear.”
I narrow my gaze. “Then why didn’t you tell me your real name?”
“Because everyone in this town thought I was dead,” he states. “And everyone who knew I was alive thinks your dad wants to kill me.”
That makes me pause, but my hackles rise, wanting to defend a man who may not actually deserve a defense.
It’s not like I don’t know that he’s capable of horrible things, I just… He wouldn’t do anything that extreme.
Would he?
I cringe.
He definitely would.
“Why would he want to kill you?” I ask.
“Come on, Princess. You know why.”
His jaw tics.
“Everything I said to you has been true,” he rushes out. “I have a sister, and she depends on me. She’s all I have in the world, and there are things I need to do to make sure she’s taken care of.”
My mind replays the moment I saw him tonight. How unsurprised he was that I was here. How he knew about the party beforehand. Still, for some reason, I don’t think he’s lying. The mention of his sister has my anger thawing, just a little.
I tilt my head. “When did you find out who I was?”
He grimaces, shoulders slumping. “My mother recognized you.”
“You mean the mother who’s supposed to be dead, too?” I snip. “No wonder she hated me on sight.”
He cuts me a pleading look, like he’s desperate for me to understand.
“So, it was before you saw me at the coffee shop again.”
I’m not sure why that cuts worse than if he knew the whole time, but it does.
His jaw tenses again, and he gives a curt nod.
“Why do all that? Why continue letting me think this could be some—that we could be friends?”
“Because I wanted to know you,” he replies simply. “I still want to know you.”
My chest cramps, and I inhale a shaky breath.
“That’s not very fair,” I say.
He straightens and steps toward me. “I didn’t plan for any of this.”
“Like that matters.” I move back until I hit the opposite side of the balcony. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“But I am.”
Another step.
My hands press against the stone behind me like I can meld into the structure if I try hard enough.
“Why can’t we be friends?” he murmurs, his eyes searching mine. “Why does this have to change anything?”
“Uh, I don’t know, maybe because you think my dad is some mass murderer?” I say.
His eyes soften like he pities me .
“I don’t give a fuck about that,” he claims, his voice strong and sure. “I only give a fuck about you.”
“Right.” I huff. “That why you put on such a good show earlier for my family?”
Something dark flashes over his face like he hates what he’s done.
“If you were anyone else,” I murmur, looking at the ground.
“Well, I’m not,” he retorts, his arms rising until his hands rest on the pillar on either side of my head. “Who cares?”
“ I care!” I exclaim. “You have no idea how off-limits you just became.”
His nostrils flare, his arms tensing. I ignore the heat sparking off his body, blanketing me, and honestly, it’s the worst form of torture to have him be so close physically, yet the farthest away he’s ever been.
“I do know,” he whispers.
“Do you?” I stare at him. “You’re a Montgomery , Trouble . If my dad saw you here with me, or worse, if my cousin Tyler did?—”
“They’d what?” Roman cuts me off, moving in closer, his torso brushing against mine.
My mind flashes to Tyler’s gun. “You know what .”
“Whatever it is, it’d be worth it, as long as I got some time with you.”
I grit my teeth, turning my head to the side and staring at the pool.
“I didn’t choose my parents any more than you did, Juliette.”
The way he says my name sends a shiver down my spine.
“And I didn’t take you as the type to just bow down and do everything your family says, but maybe I was wrong,” he continues.
Fire rages through me at his words, because as much as I want to rail against what he’s saying, I can’t.
It’s true: I’ve never gone against my parents’ wishes.
I’ve been slowly boiling in a pot of water, not even realizing I’m being burned alive.
I turn back to face him, hating the way my stomach flips and my chest cinches tight when our eyes meet. “Tell me why you were here tonight, then. Convince me it’s nothing more than our parents .”
His chin lifts, his Adam’s apple bobbing on a swallow.
But he stays silent.
I nod, resignation filling me up like sand in an hourglass. “Then we’re enemies.”
He moves so suddenly I don’t have time to avoid it. One of his hands grips my waist, and the other cups the back of my head.
His forehead presses against mine.
I gasp, my skin sizzling wherever he touches.
“You will never be my enemy.” He states it as an absolute.
My lashes flutter, hope—as ridiculous as it is in this situation—flaring to life in my chest. “Even if we have to pretend we are?”
His expression shifts, flickering with something sharp.
A door slams in the distance, and my stomach folds in on itself.
I push against his hold, but he only grips me tighter. “You have to go.”
“Meet me somewhere.”
“Roman, please . Just leave. Before my family finds you here.”
He shakes his head. “Not until you say yes.”
Frustrated, I sink into his hold, my hands falling against the hard muscle of his chest. “Fine, meet me tomorrow at the cliff.”
“You mean where I saved your life?” He smirks.
I swallow. “Yes, whatever, now go .”
In the next second, he’s gone.