I stood in front of the closet and reached for my normal attire, a button-down shirt and a pencil skirt, but it felt ridiculous to get that dressed up for dinner. I’d only packed one pair of jeans and I’d already worn them on our horseback riding adventure, which left me with one option. Sweats.
Pulling sweats on after a long day in heels and a tight skirt was one of my favorite feelings in the world. The moment I felt the soft cotton on my legs it was like my entire body exhaled. Tonight was no different, despite spending the day in jeans.
I threw on a T-shirt and briefly considered drying and styling my hair, but as I stared in the mirror I asked myself, “What’s the point?”
So instead, I pulled my still-damp hair up into a ponytail. Just like what had happened earlier today when I’d braided my hair, seeing myself with wet hair pulled up, and dressed in an oversized T-shirt and sweats, was like taking a trip in a time machine. It took me right back to my teen years.
This entire weekend had been one big trip in the DeLorean. Unfortunately, I didn’t have Doc to guide me through the journey. At least I would have Jared as a much-needed chaperone. If my brother had gotten here earlier, there was no way that Romeo would’ve asked me if I was seeing anyone or brought up “that night.”
“I wanted you then and I want you now.” Romeo’s words came back to me.
I’d been so caught up in my anger and finally confronting the situation that I hadn’t stopped and thought about what he’d said in the barn.
Is that what he said?
Did he want me now?
When I’d accused him of saying he didn’t want me, he denied saying any such thing.
Had he actually said he didn’t want me?
Did I remember it wrong?
As I made my way to the kitchen where the boys were preparing dinner, I thought back to that night, drudging up memories that I’d long ago buried. He had definitely smelled like a distillery when he stumbled in. He’d shook his head and mumbled, “No. This can’t happen. No. This can’t happen.”
I’d been so taken aback by his response, I’d asked him if he got my letter and he said yes. Then, he told me, “You have to go. This can’t happen.”
“Don’t you…want me?” I’d asked him.
I cringed at the memory of how pathetically desperate I’d been. No wonder he hadn’t been interested.
He’d shaken his head and said, “No. This can’t happen. Not like this.”
I froze halfway down the hall.
He’d said, “No. This can’t happen. Not like this.”
Holy guacamole!
All these years I’d remembered it as him telling me he didn’t want me. Which, technically, he had, but had I misunderstood what he meant? What he’d actually done is repeat what he’d been saying from the time he found me in his bed and added, not like this.
As soon as I’d heard “no” to my incredibly pathetic question, I’d grabbed my clothes and ran out of the room. Since then, I’d done my best to erase the entire night from my memory.
But now, thinking back, the addition of “not like this” was a very interesting plot twist in the novel of my life. How had I forgotten such a key piece of dialogue? “Not like this” could mean something else entirely. Like, maybe it just wasn’t the right time or place.
Or was I grasping at straws?
That was what had gotten me into trouble the first time around with Romeo. I’d built an entire world up in my head thinking he lived there too. The truth of the matter was, if I wanted to know what he meant by it, I needed to ask him.
My brother’s laugh filled the hallway.
Damn. Now I wished Jared wasn’t here. There was no way that I could bring this up in front of him. But I would bring it up. I’d spent too many years writing my version of the story, it was time to find out his version.
“There she is! The birthday girl!” Jared exclaimed as I entered the kitchen.
“Not till tomorrow,” I pointed out.
“White or red?” Romeo asked as he held up two wine bottles, one in each hand.
I briefly considered my options. I liked white wine better but drinking red wine usually knocked me out, and I had a sneaking suspicion that I might need the assistance if I wanted to get any sleep tonight. Otherwise I’d be tossing and turning all night. “Red.”
He popped the cork.
“Do you remember when we went joyriding on Old Man Clemons’ farm?” Jared slapped Romeo’s shoulder.
“I think you mean stole his tractor,” I corrected as Romeo poured me a generous glass of wine.
Jared continued talking about that night that both Romeo and my brother had gotten their first mug shot taken as he stepped out onto the covered deck to mind the barbecue.
He was talking loudly but all I could hear was the sound of my pounding heart as he handed me the wine. Our fingers brushed one another’s and the contact sent a lightning bolt of sensation running up my arm and down my spine. It was the same phenomenon as when you run around on the carpet in socks and then touched someone, except that was painful and this was all pleasure. It was an electric pleasure shock.
My eyes lifted to his to see if he had felt it too. From the dark, dangerous look in his electric blue eyes and the sexy way his jaw was clenched, I guessed yes.
“Alright, let’s eat.” Jared stuck his head back into the kitchen and I took one step back.
As we made our way out to the table that one of the guys must’ve set, I tried to pull myself together. My mind and body were filled with confusion, what ifs, and a lot of hormones but I knew that I had to do my best to put all that aside and enjoy dinner with my brother and Romeo, like old times. The only problem was, there wasn’t a time that I wasn’t madly in love with the dark haired, blue-eyed boy that now sat across from me at the outdoor table.
“So, Jared, how long are you staying?” I asked casually.
Romeo had reserved the villa until Monday, it was Saturday. If my brother was staying the rest of the weekend I’d have to find the time to talk to Romeo.
“Um…” He looked down at his plate. “I’m not sure.”
His answer struck me as odd. I wanted to ask a follow-up but didn’t want to make it sound like he wasn’t welcome. I was over the moon to see Jared, I just needed a little bit of alone time with Rome to ask him some questions. Starting with, what did he mean by, not like this?
CHAPTER 14
Romeo
Despite my efforts to walk quietly, my bare feet thudded heavily on the wood flooring as I walked down the silent, dark hallway. The sound they made was accompanied by my shallow breaths and the pounding of my heart.
I’d tried my best to sleep, but it was impossible.
I couldn’t stop thinking about what Jules had said. It had taken every ounce of restraint to keep quiet about the bombshell Juliette had dropped right before Jared showed up. I knew that Jules would never forgive me if I did anything that might tip her brother off that anything was going on between us.
And there was definitely something going on between us.
I stopped in front of her door and my pulse raced like a car in the Indy 500. I lifted my hand to knock, totally prepared for what I was sure was going to be a negotiation to enter the room. She was not going to want to talk to me but I planned on using any means necessary to persuade her.
The door opened and every thought in my head evaporated, as did my ability to speak.
Déjà vu. That was what I was experiencing.
Juliette stood before me in a thin, cotton shirt and cutoff sweats. Her face was free of any makeup and her hair was still piled on top of her head, but it had dried and wisps of hair fell around her sweetheart-shaped face. Moonlight shined through the window behind her, framing her like the angel she was. She looked exactly like she did all those early Saturday mornings I’d shown up before dawn to make breakfast with Yaya.
Except now her body had filled out to one of a pinup model. Her fuller hips gave her an hourglass shape that m
ade every primal instinct I had roar to life. Her long legs were no longer stick skinny, they had curves to them. Curves that I wanted to explore, to memorize, to kiss and lick every inch of.
I wanted to strip her out of her pajamas and worship her naked body.
“What’s wrong?” Juliette asked, completely unaware of the porno that was playing out in my head.
“Happy birthday.” I hadn’t planned on saying that, but it was better than what I had wanted to say which was, You are the most beautiful woman on this planet, I’ve been in love with you for over a decade. Every day that I spent away from you over the past twelve years has been agonizing and I’d do anything, anything if you’d be my wife.
I didn’t think that we were quite at the proposal leg of the forgiveness tour.
“You woke me up to say that?”
“No. Can I come in?”
Her eyes widened slightly. Apparently my request to enter her room was like a shot of espresso because she looked very awake now.
“Why?” She remained in place, her expression guarded.
“I want to talk to you.” My voice held an extra rawness to it.
In the blink of an eye, the energy between us shifted and the air around us crackled with electricity.
Her breathing grew shallow as she asked, “Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”
“No.” I growled.
I hadn’t meant it to come out like that, it just happened.
She sucked in a short breath and her chest rose. The motion caused her hardened nipples to press against the soft cotton of her shirt. My mouth watered. I wanted to dip my head down and suck them through the material.
“Fine,” she agreed both begrudgingly and breathlessly.
Nervous energy radiated off of her as I entered the room. My arm brushed hers as I moved past her and just like when I’d handed her the glass of wine, an explosion of sensation erupted at the point of contact. My brain was a mush of hormones and emotions and I knew that I didn’t have the capacity for small talk. It was time to get straight to the point.
“How did it happen?” I asked as she shut the door.
“How did what happen?” She turned and crossed her arms defensively.
Her body language screamed that this was not going to be a relaxed conversation between two friends. My body language was screaming the same thing, but in a totally different way. I was free-balling and could feel myself growing harder by the second. Soon my sweats were going to be tented.
“How are you still a virgin?”
“Shh!” She hushed me loudly, much louder than the volume at which I’d just asked my question. “My brother is here.”
“Your brother is dead asleep on the other side of this massive house. Do you really think he can hear us?”
“No, but…is this why you woke me up? To ask me that?”
“Yes, it is. I need to know.”
“Why?”
“I just do.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Yes it is,” I countered.
“No.” She smirked. “It’s not.”
“You made it my business when you wrote me that letter telling me that you wanted to lose your virginity to me and that—”
She lifted her hand. “I know what I wrote. Again, I don’t need to take a trip down memory lane.”
“Maybe you do.”
Confusion filled her big, brown eyes and it shattered my heart. I hadn’t seen the vulnerable side of Juliette since being here. It had been all hard exterior. But seeing her look so unsure caused every protective bone in my body to scream that I wanted to protect her.
“I just…I haven’t.”
“You haven’t dated anyone?” I tried to assist her in her explanation. “You haven’t had boyfriends?”
“Yes, of course I’ve had boyfriends.” Her tone indicated that the suggestion was ridiculous. “But when things start getting…physical, I bail. I don’t like it when people…when guys…I don’t like…I don’t know…when they…touch me.” She stammered.
Even as a kid she’d kept people at arm’s length, emotionally and physically. Emotionally, I always assumed was because she was scared that they would leave like her parents had. Physically, well, she was a bit of a germaphobe. But surely, she had to have gotten over that in the decade-plus since I’d last seen her.
“Have you ever kissed anyone?” I needed more information.
Her expression clearly communicated that I was an idiot for even asking, but I held my ground. “Yes. I’ve kissed someone. Multiple someones.”
“Alright.” Now we were getting somewhere. “How far have you gone?”
“It’s none of your business.” Her jaw clenched.
I’d already argued why it was my business and so I took a different approach. “I’m making it my business.”
I could see that she was battling with herself. She obviously wanted to tell me. She wanted to open up to me, but she was holding back. I didn’t blame her. She’d written a letter declaring her undying love for me and offered herself to me and I’d told her that it couldn’t happen. Then I’d left on tour and hadn’t seen her in twelve years.
Why in hell would she trust me now?
CHAPTER 15
Juliette
I couldn’t believe this was happening. I shouldn’t have let Romeo in. I’d been prepared to talk to him after Jared left. I was going to make notes to be sure every question I had was answered. I hadn’t expected him to show up at my door while my brother was down the hall. Well, down three halls in the other wing of the villa, but still. The point was that I was not mentally or emotionally prepared for this.
I’d had a very clear idea of how I wanted the conversation with Romeo to go. I was going to be the one asking the questions and demanding answers. I would be playing offense and he’d be the one on defense. Instead, I felt like I was on the witness stand being cross-examined. And those three glasses of wine were hindering my ability to take control of this conversation.
Which explained why every time I opened my mouth to tell Romeo to get out of my room, I ended up blurting out another embarrassing confession. The thing was, Romeo hadn’t just been my crush, my first love, he’d also been my best friend. My only friend, really.
I’d gotten along with people at school, but I’d never met anyone that I connected with. I’d always felt like an outsider. Except when I was with Romeo.
I’d missed being able to talk to someone about things, about things that I could never tell another person. That was the weakness that was being exploited now.
“Second base,” I admitted, not revealing that it had been above the clothes with, wait for it…Peter Murdock, senior year.
“Second base,” Romeo repeated slowly.
“Yes. With Paul Grissom.” I wasn’t sure why I’d lied, except maybe I was scared he’d be able to tell that it had been in twelfth grade and would show me as even more pathetic.
“So, no one’s ever touched you…” His eyes dipped to below my waist.
“No.”
“And you’ve never touched…”
“No.” My cheeks were on fire, and I was sure that I was the color of a ripened tomato. “I just never felt comfortable with any guys I dated. They just weren’t…” you, I finished silently.
“Weren’t what? Do you like women?”
“What? No. They just weren’t…right.” I took a deep breath, hoping to regain my composure. “I didn’t want to do it just to do it.”
Romeo nodded and I could see that he was trying to understand. It was clear that he hadn’t encountered many thirty-year-old virgins, which now I officially was since it was my birthday.
He exhaled and lifted his arm to run his fingers through his hair. The movement pulled his shirt up, revealing about an inch of his abs. Not wanting to be caught staring—like I had at breakfast—I forced my eyes up and they landed on his sculpted chest.
Even through the heather gray T-shirt, I could see the dips and contour
s of his muscular frame. And his dark gray sweats were hanging low on his hips. I wondered if he was wearing any underwear beneath them or going commando.
My hands itched to tug at the white drawstring in the center of his waistband and find out.
“But you’ve had orgasms, right?”
His question snapped me right back to the conversation. I couldn’t believe how easy it was for him to say things like “orgasms.” He’d always been that way, able to talk about things that would make some people blush like he was discussing the weather.
“Yes, sort of.”
“Sort of?” he repeated.
I shifted my weight from my left to my right foot. Was I really about to reveal something so intimate to a man who had rejected me twelve years ago? I still had questions about that. But hey, maybe if I answered his questions then he’d answer mine.
My pulse was galloping with the strength of a hundred wild stallions. My heart was in my throat. And my entire body was tingling. I wasn’t sure if this was all caused by the fact that I was close to hyperventilating or the primal look in Romeo’s eyes.
Either way, I was lightheaded and probably not thinking straight as I answered, “I’ve had them in dreams.”
“Like, wet dreams?”
I shrugged. “I guess.”
“Girls have wet dreams?”
“Apparently.” I’d never done a survey but the only time I’d ever experienced an orgasm was when I was having a sexy dream.
“What about when you masturbate?”
My cheeks flared with heat. “Why do you assume that I do?”
“Because everyone does it.”
I remained quiet.
“You don’t masturbate?” he asked.
“No.” I answered honestly, then added. “Do you?”
“Yeah, almost every day.”
“You masturbate every day?!” That seemed excessive, although I guessed I wasn’t the authority on the subject.
“Why don’t you masturbate?”
I couldn’t believe we were actually discussing this. “I don’t know. I’ve tried, but it just…didn’t work.”
Resisting Romeo (Steamy Weekends Book 3) Page 8