Chapter 5 #3
“God, baby, you are so good. You’ve always been the best sex I’ve ever had. You know that, right? From day one,” Juliet intoned, as if she could read Darcy’s mind.
Which – was nice to know. And Darcy felt the same, always had. Unfortunately, she still felt very lost in the conversation.
“Anyway,” Juliet continued, waving her hand around. “Chloe’s awful. And I decided – pfft. I’m glad I’m not going to be a closet-case like her. And I’m not going to hide away while she and other people gossip about me. And I’m definitely not going to run and hide and let them gossip about you.”
That ferocity in Juliet’s tone returned with a vengeance, her eyes glittering as she stared at Darcy. That protective, possessive stare very much alive.
“They’re going to talk and say whatever the hell they want, but I’m…
I’m going to be free . I’m free to come here.
To go to my sister-in-law’s wedding. To go to your old stomping grounds and get drunk and hear all the stories about everyone hitting on you and how everyone wanted you, and no one knew what you were looking for in a partner.
I can do that now. Because everyone knows.
And it really is fr-” Juliet broke off on a hiccup before continuing, “Freeing.”
Darcy’s eyes were narrowed slightly as she nodded, taking it all in. “Riiight.”
No, she didn’t see how Chloe fit into everything, necessarily.
But it sounded like Juliet had hit the wall she’d alluded to before Darcy had left. She was still a little fuzzy on how and why Juliet had decided to go to Stardust instead of directly calling her, but overall it didn’t sound like Juliet was worse for the wear.
In fact, she seemed… genuinely lighter than she had for weeks.
Darcy bit her bottom lip, studying Juliet under the bright, neon lights from the bowling alley’s outer sign. And the question that had circled around her mind since she’d left L.A. came back front and center.
“I know that asking while you’re not sober is maybe not the best decision I’ll ever make, but I just really have to ask. Do you regret it? Coming out?”
Juliet blinked back at her, eyebrows furrowing deeply, before she said, “No. I don’t.”
And her voice sounded so certain, so firm, Darcy was moved to believe it. But still, she’d have to have this conversation when Juliet wasn’t drunk.
As if reading her mind, Juliet frowned at her, reaching her hand across the console, gripping Darcy’s wrist. “Darcy. I don’t regret it. Even when I was in my worst – what’s it? – my worst, ah, mental health space place! I haven’t regretted anything.”
Darcy was able to breathe a little easier, a weight lifting from her chest. It was a relief, though, a serious relief. Even if Juliet wasn’t sober, there was nothing but honesty in her face.
She lifted Juliet’s hand to her mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. Closing her eyes and breathing Juliet in for a second, she lowered Juliet’s hand to rest on her thigh as she started the car.
A drunk Juliet was… interesting, that was for certain.
A drunk Juliet who felt, in her own words, free was even more interesting.
Starting from the moment she’d pushed through Blythe’s front door, then hugged Blythe with a tight squeeze, congratulating her.
Into the way she’d turned the music up on the record Emerson had been playing.
And then the way she’d pulled Emerson into a dance because, “ Well, you’re probably not going to dance with me tomorrow at the wedding, are you?”
And Juliet wasn’t wrong; Emerson wasn’t going to want to have everyone’s eyes on her, which they certainly would be if she was dancing with Juliet.
Darcy had kept a watchful eye over the next hour, before she’d called for bedtime. Blythe needed a relatively early night, and really, so did Darcy. Even with Juliet’s surprise arrival, she still had busy Maid of Honor duties tomorrow morning.
She’d shut the door to their bedroom before gently spinning Juliet to tug the zipper of her dress down. Skimming her fingertips over the soft skin revealed to her.
“So you were a hot commodity, huh?” Juliet asked, swaying where she stood to the music undoubtedly playing through her mind.
“Hmm?” She hummed back, tugging Juliet’s dress down, then holding out her hand to help her step out of it.
Juliet slid her hand into Darcy’s. “Ms. Darcy – such a gentlewoman.”
“Only for you.”
Juliet’s smile grew even wider at that, somehow both sweet and sentimental, and victoriously satisfied. Her woman really did contain multitudes.
“Yes. Only for me .” Juliet jerked her thumb toward herself before she pointedly kicked her dress to the side and used their clasped hands to yank Darcy closer, then wrapped her arms around Darcy’s neck, holding her close.
She instinctively held Juliet in return, wrapping her arms around her waist. The momentum carried her back a few steps, and the backs of her knees bumped into the mattress, sending them both crashing down.
She braced herself under Juliet for the fall, but Juliet was the one who groaned.
“’m sorry.”
Her words were slightly muffled against Darcy’s neck.
She reached up, smoothing Juliet’s hair back, scooping it away from her neck. “It’s okay, the bed took the brunt of it.”
Juliet popped her head up, her dark eyes boring into Darcy’s.
“No. I’m sorry that – that I didn’t tell you about the coming out.
And that things got fucked up with the, the record companies.
And especially with the paparazzi stuff.
I never want to mess things up for you.” She lifted her hand, gently tracing over the sharp line of Darcy’s cheek.
The mark left from the camera scraping against her was long gone, but Juliet was looking at her so intently, it was like she could still see it.
Even though her words were a little thick from the alcohol mixed with her exhaustion, Darcy could hear the sincerity ringing through them.
She frowned, shaking her head slightly. Just enough to not dislodge Juliet’s hand, because it felt so nice to have her gentle touch. “You didn’t mess anything up for me.”
“Darcy,” Juliet’s exasperation was loud and clear.
“Juliet.”
“I uni – ugh. Un-i-laterally made this choice,” she sounded out, sounding irritated with herself for needing to take the pause. There was her typical Juliet. “And then you were hounded on the street by the paparazzi asshole. And We, The Romantics 2.0 is struggling to get off the ground. And–”
“I don’t care,” she cut Juliet off, sincerely. “I don’t care about any of that. Not the way I care about you. About us.”
Juliet’s eyebrows were deeply furrowed, like there was more she wanted to say. But she let out a jaw-cracking yawn, shaking her head as she shifted so she was half-on the mattress, half draped over Darcy, as she rested her head on the pillow.
“Okay,” she murmured. “Okay, then.”
“Okay then,” Darcy echoed. “I love you.”
Juliet blinked her eyes open once more, like she refused not to look at Darcy as she echoed, “I love you .”
Okay, then.