29. Juliette
JULIETTE
“ I can’t believe it’s been weeks since we’ve seen each other,” Felicity says, bouncing in her chair at the bar.
Grinning, I set down my purse and glance around, hiding my discomfort. “And the first place you bring me is the HillPoint?”
She beams at me. “FAFO, bitch.”
I scrunch my nose. “What the hell does FAFO mean?”
“Fuck around and find out, Jules. Disappearing on me has consequences.”
“This is why my mother hates you.”
She rolls her eyes and waves her hand in the air, clearly unbothered. “It’s not my fault your parents are weird, uptight assholes.”
“True.” I press my lips together. “You should have asked, though. This is like…way out of my comfort zone.”
I’m telling her the truth, but I don’t really mind it. There’s a thrill vibrating just beneath my skin because there’s a chance Roman is here.
She frowns. “Well, yeah, but then you wouldn’t have come. And anyway, doesn’t Art own it now? That basically means it’s Calloway-adjacent. You’re practically on home turf.”
Can’t argue with her there.
Low lighting and deep-red booths line the perimeter, and the actual bar is long, extending the entire length of the wall on the right side just past the entrance.
There are some tables scattered around in the center of the room, and a small stage at the front which I assume is for live music, although there’s nobody on it at the moment.
My back is stiff, my shoulders squared, and I’m just waiting for someone to recognize me. To treat me like a kid and tell me that I don’t belong here.
But after a few minutes, nobody does anything of the sort, and my tight muscles start to ease. I’m not naive enough to think that they don’t recognize me, but no one seems to care.
“Relax, Jules,” she says. “You look like somebody’s about to walk up and pull a knife on you.”
A pretty woman with pale skin, a ton of freckles, and gorgeous red hair pulled high on her head comes over and rests her elbows on the bar. “What’ll it be?”
Her jade-green eyes meet mine and widen just a little, but she doesn’t say anything.
She’s stunningly gorgeous, and I think she’s new in town. At least, I’ve never seen her before.
“Grey Goose martini, extra dirty.”
“Oooh, fancy, I’ll have the same,” Felicity says. “Actually, no, you know what? I’ll have a Long Island.”
I make a face.
“ Don’t even get me started. Need I remind you of spring break, freshman year? When I had to scrape you off the bathroom floor and hold your hair while you christened the hotel toilet and cried about letting down your parents?”
“God, please don’t.” My stomach rolls at the memory.
“Either of you want food?” the bartender asks.
Felicity tilts her head at the girl. “What’s your name?”
“Ginny,” she says with a wink. “Nice to meet you.” Then she jerks her chin at me. “Your brother know you’re here?”
I rear back, surprised at her line of questioning and more than a little put off by the fact she thinks she has the right to ask me that at all.
“Which one?”
Her eyes widen, and she drops the shaker onto the bar, pulling out a chilled martini glass, placing it in front of me, and then pouring. “Sorry, that was rude—it’s not my business.”
“Little bit, yeah.” I frown at her. “How do you know my brothers again?”
“No offense, but I don’t think it’s possible to live in this town and not know your brothers.” She gives a small smile, her eyes flickering between us. “Starting a tab?”
I nod, and then she grabs a towel and sprints away, busying herself at the other end of the bar.
Felicity sips her drinks and whispers, “Fifty bucks she had a thing with one of them.”
I glance at the martini, and then Ginny. “Probably Lance. He’ll fuck anything.”
She cackles. “Definitely not Paxton, that’s for sure.”
“Well, yeah,” I say. “He’s married, dude.”
Her eyes flick behind me and the smile drops from her face.
I spin around and immediately frown. “Ugh, I was hoping you weren’t here.”
Art Penngrove gives me a knowing look. “Little Juliette Calloway, slumming it in the HillPoint? What would Daddy Warbucks think?”
I roll my eyes at the comparison of a fictional character to my father.
“He’d ask why the rats talk now,” Felicity jabs back.
His eyes flick briefly to Felicity and then slide past her like she’s furniture.
She scoffs.
“You need to leave,” he tells me.
Again, Felicity cuts in before I can. “I know your dad has a fancy title and all, but that’s all it is, Arthur. A title .”
“It’s my bar.” He glares at her.
“Maybe on paper.” She shrugs. “We both know you can barely run your own bath, let alone a business.”
His lips thin, and he refocuses on me. “Come on, Jules. I’ll take you home.”
“Hard pass, thanks.” I grab my drink and smile wide as I take a sip.
He reaches for my arm, but before he can, a deep voice cuts in. “She said no.”
My stomach flips.
Roman.
Art spins around, his gaze widening slightly when it lands on him. Art isn’t small, but compared to how tall Roman is, he looks like a kid wearing his dad’s suit.
I fidget in my seat, and Felicity gives me wide eyes and then wiggles her brows like she also finds him attractive.
“Roman Montgomery,” Art says. “This isn’t how I expected to meet for the first time, but this is family business.” He throws a thumb toward me.
Roman’s eyes flick to mine, then land back on him with a brow quirking. “And you’re family?”
“Close enough.”
“He’s not, actually,” I correct.
Art’s head snaps toward me, his face dropping. “Jules, come on. You don’t belong here. Your brother would?—”
“Is Lance here?” I snap my head around, looking for him. “Is that why you’re being so overbearing?”
His jaw tenses. “No, he’s not.”
“Then I’ll stay, thanks.”
Art sighs and attempts to grab me again , and now Roman physically slides in between us, his back resting against my arm. He’s angled just enough where I can see him staring a hole through Art, his arms crossed as he leans against me.
Heat pours through my body at the close proximity.
Roman’s voice is low, and he leans in, almost whispering to Art. “Try to touch her again, and I don’t give a fuck who your dad is, or whether you own this place, you’ll be leaving in an ambulance.”
Art blanches.
Felicity practically swoons right out of her chair. “You heard him, Art. Get fucked.”
“Felicity.” He gives a tight grin to her. “Always the opposite of a pleasure to see you.”
She smiles back and tips her drink toward him. “Choke and die, Arthur.”
He gives me one more glance and then he mutters, “Fuck it,” and storms off.
My gaze falls to Roman as he spins to face me, his features softening as he does.
My skin prickles, a dizzying heat working its way from my middle, up my chest and around my shoulders, the way it always does when he’s around.
He’s here.
Somehow, I knew he would be.
Gripping my chilled martini, I bring it to my lips, taking a sip and focusing on that burn instead of the way his eyes are searing into me.
“Well, I don’t know who you are,” Felicity starts, “but clearly my best friend does, and I won’t lie, it’s hurtful that I haven’t heard about you.”
Leave it to Felicity to break the intensity of the moment.
He looks at her, his lips curling up. “I’m Roman.”
Her brows rise, and she sips from her straw before saying, “And I’m in love.”
A laugh pours out of me, and I shake my head. “Felicity, this is Roman Montgomery . Roman, this is my best friend.”
Felicity tilts her head. “You look familiar.”
“I’ve got a common face, and it’s been plastered all over the local news for weeks now.”
“Well, thanks,” I interrupt. “You didn’t need to step in, but I won’t lie and say I’m not happy you did. You can go now, though.”
“Juliette,” Felicity scolds. “Don’t be so rude to our savior.”
Roman smirks and crosses his arms. The movement makes the muscles on his inked-up forearms flex and highlights the veins that run beneath the sleeves of his shirt. “Finally, someone with manners. Juliette’s been incredibly mean to me.”
“Is that right?” Felicity’s voice is amused.
He nods solemnly. “Completely unwarranted. Between you and me, I think it’s because she has a crush.”
I let out a dry chuckle. “ I’m the one with the crush?”
He leans on the bar, looking at Felicity. “You know, I saved her life once.”
Interest sparks in Felicity’s gaze. “Did you?”
“Can we talk about literally anything else?” I chime in.
“No,” they say in perfect unison.
“Wow.” I blink. “You’re like twins. This is a nightmare.”
He ignores me and leans in closer to her. “Tell me something. Do you two have a secret handshake?”
“A what now?” Felicity asks.
“A handshake. I think that any good friendship deserves one. It’s a sign of loyalty.”
“Interesting.” Felicity stirs her drink with her straw and then frowns at me. “Why don’t we have one?”
I groan, slapping my palm over my eyes. “Great, now you’ve infected her.”
“That doesn’t answer her question, Juliette.” Roman smirks. “Honestly, I’d like to know, too.”
“Because we’re adults.”
“True.” His eyes drag over me. “Adults usually use their hands for other things. I’m sure you can recall how easily I was able to make you com?—”
My heart surges against my chest I slam my palm over his mouth. “Okay, that’s enough!”
His eyes sparkle, and then there’s a wet sensation on my skin. My mouth drops open. “Did you just lick me?”
Felicity cackles, her eyes bouncing between us like we’re the best entertainment she’s seen in years.
But along with her attention, I realize we’ve garnered other gazes, too. Ones that probably shouldn’t see us interact. Ones that would not think twice about running and telling people that we were being friendly.
My face drops, and he must recognize the shift of my energy because he straightens from the bar and clears his throat.
Energy zaps between us, and I can’t drop his stare.
“Roman!” a voice from across the room calls out, sharp and loud, like he’s being reprimanded.
Roman stiffens, and when I meet Benjamin’s glare, a sick and cold realization of just how public we really are douses me like an ice bucket.
“Your guard dogs are calling,” I snip.
Roman’s jaw clenches like he wants to say more, but then he snaps his mouth shut and looks to Felicity. “Ladies.”
I don’t move until he’s all the way across the bar and sliding back into the booth next to his cousin and Merrick.
“You better start talking,” Felicity demands. “Now.”