Chapter 16 Rodriguez #2
When I pull back, she’s staring at me with wide eyes.
“What was that for?” she asks, breathless.
I smile slightly, looking at her like she’s the only person in the room. Because right now, she is.
“You looked like you needed kissing,” I say quietly.
She’s watching me. Looking for something. Doubt, maybe. Or proof that this is real.
I let her look. Let her see everything.
“Rodriguez,” she breathes.
“Yeah?”
“We’re at lunch.”
“I know.”
“In front of everyone.”
“I know that too.”
She blinks. “Okay.”
I turn back to my plate like I didn’t just kiss my girlfriend senseless in front of twenty people. Pick up my fork and take a bite of pasta.
Down the table, Melissa’s face is tight and angry.
Good.
Juliette’s hand finds mine under the table and threads our fingers together. And just like that, everything else—Melissa, the bathroom, the panic—it all fades.
The bus ride back to Toronto should feel long. Two hours of sitting still after a full day. But Juliette falls asleep on my shoulder about twenty minutes in and I spend the entire ride watching her breathe.
She looks peaceful like this. No fake smiles, no performance, no walls. Just her, completely unguarded.
I’m so gone for her it’s actually embarrassing.
My phone buzzes against my leg. Almardon again.
Almardon
How’s it going
Good
Almardon
That’s it? Just good?
What do you want me to say
Almardon
I want you to tell me you’re not falling for someone who’s going to break your heart
Too late
Almardon
Rodriguez
I know. I know it’s stupid. But I can’t help it.
Almardon
Is she falling for you too?
I glance down at Juliette, still sleeping against my shoulder. Her hand is still holding mine.
Yeah. I think she is.
Almardon
And?
And she’s terrified about it.
Almardon
Great. So you’re both disasters.
Pretty much
Almardon
What are you going to do?
Wait. Like I said I would.
Almardon
You’re really going to wait for her to figure her shit out
Yes
Almardon
Even though you could just tell her how you feel
I look at her sleeping face. The way her breathing is slow and even. The way she’s completely relaxed against me.
She knows. Maybe not all of it yet. But she knows.
Almardon
You’re a better man than me
I know
Almardon
Shut up
I pocket my phone and let my head rest against the window. Juliette shifts against me, making a small sound in her sleep. Her fingers tighten around mine.
Even unconscious, she’s holding onto me.
Yeah. I’m completely in love with her.
Terrified. Hopeful. And more sure of this than I’ve been of anything in my entire life.
Three more days. We have three more days of this wedding, of pretending that’s not really pretending anymore, of sleeping in the same bed and trying not to cross lines we’re both desperate to cross.
And then Monday we fly home and figure out if any of this survives real life.
I’m not ready to think about Monday yet.
For now, I’m just going to sit here with her sleeping on my shoulder and her hand in mine and pretend I’m not absolutely terrified of losing this.
Back at the hotel, we’re barely through the door when Juliette’s phone buzzes.
“Olivia’s having a crisis,” she says, staring at her phone.
“Does she need help?”
She shows me the screen. Where Olivia is scream-typing in caps about the favor bags not being done for the rehearsal dinner
“I’ll come too,” I say immediately. No way I’m letting her deal with stressed-bride Olivia alone after the day we’ve had.
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re sitting on the floor of Olivia and Owen’s suite, surrounded by what looks like a craft store explosion. Tiny bags, maple leaf shaped candies, ribbons in ivory and gold, little tags with all the wedding details printed on them.
“Assembly line,” Olivia directs, only slightly manic. “Owen, you’re on candy duty—five per bag. Jules, you tie the ribbons. Rodriguez, you can attach the tags. I’ll do quality control.”
“Quality control means she redoes half of what we do,” Owen says quietly to me.
“I heard that!”
We fall into a rhythm. Owen counting candies with the focus of someone defusing a bomb. Juliette’s fingers working the ribbons into perfect bows. Me trying to attach tags without destroying them. Olivia hovering and occasionally swooping in to “fix” something.
I watch Juliette work. She’s different with her sister—less guarded, quicker to laugh. When Olivia starts telling a story about their childhood dog, Juliette actually snorts with laughter. The sound is so unexpected and genuine that I nearly drop the tag I’m holding.
“What?” she asks, catching me staring.
“Nothing. Just like seeing you like this.”
“Covered in ribbons?”
“Happy.”
She ducks her head, but I catch the smile.
“You guys are disgusting,” Olivia says, but she’s grinning. “Speaking of disgusting, that kiss at lunch today? I thought Garrett’s eyes were going to pop out of his head.”
“Olivia,” Juliette warns.
“What? It was amazing. Like something out of a movie. Owen, tell them.”
Owen looks up from his candy counting. “Dude, I thought he was going to climb over the table.”
“I was being romantic,” I protest.
“You were being territorial,” Olivia corrects. “Which was also romantic. But definitely territorial. Not that I blame you after whatever Melissa cornered you.”
Juliette goes still beside me. I feel rather than see her tense up.
“We should order dinner,” Owen says, either oblivious to the sudden tension or trying to defuse it. “Hotel restaurant does room service to suites.”
“Perfect. You order,” Olivia says. “Get whatever. Just lots of it. We’ll be here forever at this rate.”
Owen pulls Olivia up. “Come on. We’ll go down and order in person. Better than waiting an hour for them to answer the phone.”
“But the favors—”
“Will be here when we get back.” He’s already steering her toward the door. “Twenty minutes max.”
The door closes behind them and suddenly it’s just me and Juliette, surrounded by wedding favors, sitting in the thick silence.
“What did she say to you?”
I keep my hands busy with the tags. “It’s not important.”
“Please don’t lie to me.” Her voice is quiet but firm. “I’ve had enough of that from Garrett.”
That stops me cold. I look up at her and she’s watching me with those light eyes that see too much.
“I’m not lying to you. What she said wasn’t important. She’s a horrible person and honestly? Garrett deserves her.”
“I still want to know.”
I set down the tag I’m holding. She deserves the truth, even if it’s ugly.
“She cornered me in the bathroom and blocked the door. Then she suggested I could do better than you. That you’re too serious, too uptight. That when I get bored, I should find her.”
Juliette goes completely still. I watch her process this—Melissa following me, the time gap, my weird energy when I came back.
“She hit on you,” she says flatly.
“Pretty aggressively, yeah.”
“While engaged to my ex.”
“Yep.”
“Who was cheating on me while dating her.”
“The irony’s not lost on me.”
She’s staring down at the ribbon in her hands. “So that’s why you kissed me. In front of everyone.”
“No.” The word comes out sharp. “I kissed you because I needed to. Because watching you doubt yourself for even a second made me crazy. Because I needed you to know, needed everyone to know, that I’m yours.”
She looks up and blinks at me.
“The fact that she’d just hit on me and I got to prove a point? Bonus. But JuJu...” I move closer, close enough that our knees touch. “I want to kiss you like that all day. Every second that I’m with you all I can think about is that.”
“Rodriguez—”
“Actually,” I continue, letting a grin spread across my face, “I mostly kissed you so you’d stake your claim on me. Mark your territory. Make sure everyone knows I’m taken.”
That surprises a laugh out of her. “My territory?”
“Absolutely. I’m hoping for a collar with your name on it. Maybe a little tag that says ‘Property of Juliette Chastain.’”
She laughs. “You wouldn’t wear a collar.”
“I absolutely would wear a collar. Black leather, little spikes. Very punk rock. I’d have to take it off for games but I’d put it right back on after.” I’m warming to this theme now. “Maybe get a matching leash for formal events. You could lead me around the reception Saturday.”
Her face is bright red. “I’m not leading you around on a leash.”
“Or we could go subtle. Just a nice choker. I could start a whole new trend in the NHL. Post-game interviews with my Juliette collar on.
She’s laughing for real now, the kind that makes her whole face light up. “Stop.”
“I’m completely serious. I’ll go to PetSmart right now. They probably have a whole selection. What’s your color preference? I’m thinking blue to match that scarf I got for you.”
“You’re not getting a collar from PetSmart.”
“You’re right. This is a special occasion. We need to go somewhere fancy. Maybe a nice jewelry story. Collar shopping could be our activity tomorrow before the rehearsal dinner.”
“We are not going collar shopping.”
“Fine. But I’m keeping it as a backup plan.
You know, for our anniversary or something.
” I lean closer, dropping my voice to that fake-serious tone.
“Six months from now I expect to get a beautifully wrapped box and it’s just going to be a collar with a little engraved tag. ‘If found, please return to Juliette.’”
She cuts off my laughter by leaning forward and kissing me. Soft and quick, but deliberate.
“No collars,” she says against my mouth.
The door bursts open and Olivia tumbles back in. “Food will be here in thirty minutes! Did you make progress—oh my god, are you two making out instead of making favors?”
“We’re multitasking,” I say, not moving away from Juliette.
“No multitasking! Favors first, making out later!”
Juliette pulls back, but she’s smiling and when she goes back to tying ribbons, she shifts so her thigh stays pressed against mine.
Yeah. I’m completely gone for this woman.
The elevator ride back to our room is quiet, her shoulder brushing mine.
“Thank you for telling me. About Melissa.”
“You asked.”
“You could have lied. Made something up.”
“No, I couldn’t.” I move closer. “Not to you. Never to you.”
She turns to me as I push open the door to our room. “Yeah, but you didn’t have to—”
“I know you’re scared,” I say, cutting her off gently. “I know this is happening fast and it’s complicated and probably not what you planned. But JuJu...” I reach out and frame her face with both hands. “I’m all in. Whatever this is, wherever it goes. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Even though I’m a disaster?”
“Especially because you’re a disaster. We match.” I brush my thumbs across her cheekbones. “Plus, you already agreed to get me that collar, so we’re pretty much official now.”
She laughs, the sound breaking through the tension. “I did not agree to that.”
“I distinctly heard you agree. Owen was there. He’s a witness.”
“Owen was counting maple candies and having war flashbacks to Olivia’s wedding planning binders.”
“Still counts.” I let my hands drop. “I’m going to change. Rehearsal dinner tomorrow is going to be interesting.”
“That’s one word for it.”
In the bathroom, I splash water on my face and think about how easy it would be to just keep doing this forever. Share hotel rooms and inside jokes and have her look at me like I’m something worth keeping.
When I come out, she’s already in bed. Eyes closed, breathing even.
Fake sleeping again. She’s getting better at it, but her eyelash twitches give her away.
I grin and climb in on my side, leaving space between us.
“Goodnight, JuJu. Thanks for staking your claim on me today.”
No response, but I swear I see her mouth twitch like she’s fighting a smile.
Within five minutes, she’s migrated across the bed. Her head finds my chest, that spot that’s officially hers now. Her leg hooks over mine. Her hand splays across my ribs. And she sighs in her sleep.
I wrap my arm around her and stare at the ceiling.
Three more days of wedding events. The rehearsal dinner tomorrow. The wedding Saturday. Then Sunday brunch.
But right now, with her warm against me and her breath evening out into real sleep, I’m not thinking about Monday.
I’m thinking about how I’m completely in love with her.
And how I’m pretty sure she’s starting to love me back.