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She opened her eyes and looked at me, heavy-lidded. “Holy shit,” she said.
I felt my lips twist into a grin. If I was going to get credit for virtuoso skills, I would take it. I hadn’t done a whole heck of a lot, in truth. But she was looking at me like I was a genius, so I soaked it in.
“Okay,” she said slowly. She seemed to need to focus on forming words. “I’ll admit that was a good plan, Finn.”
I tried not to look too smug. “That wasn’t the plan,” I said.
She blinked slowly. “What?”
“That wasn’t the plan. That was just a bonus.” Unable to help myself, I added modestly, “You’re welcome.”
She was trying to follow, I could tell. I liked this Juliet, the one who wasn’t fighting, who couldn’t outsmart me because I’d orgasmed her into a stupor. “So what are we doing?”
The answer came to me, clearly and perfectly formed. The right answer. “Something you need almost as much as you needed that.” I pushed myself up—reluctantly—and sat on the edge of the bed. My balls were in agony, but that was the price I’d pay tonight. “Get up and get dressed.”
“Get dressed?” She was more awake now. She propped herself on her elbows and looked down at herself, as if she’d forgotten she was wearing clothes. “I’m already dressed.”
“Change that shirt.” I didn’t like the buttoned-up blouse on her. She looked good in everything, but that shirt wasn’t Juliet. “Put on something comfortable that you can move in.”
She sat fully upright as I stood. “Where are we going?”
“Get changed,” I said, smiling. “You’ll see.”
TWELVE
Juliet
My feet hurt. The muscles in the backs of my calves were sore. The backs of my thighs, too. Hell, the fronts of my thighs. With every movement, my body complained loudly that it wanted to lie down. Instead, I stood still.
“I think it looks good,” Mom said.
I glanced at myself in the dressing room mirror. I didn’t know if good was a word I’d use for how I looked in this dress—a bridesmaid dress.
As bridesmaid dresses went, it wasn’t a crime. There was no tulle, and there were no flounces. The other bridesmaids had picked the dress, and it was a slim-cut bodice flaring into a knee-length A-line skirt. It was lavender, and around the waist was a narrow belt of the same fabric. It looked like something from Mad Men, dressed up for a wedding.
I squirmed, flexing the aching muscles in my legs, and the seamstress tutted. “We need to make a few adjustments,” she said bluntly. “It’s too big here.” She hooked a finger into the extra fabric pooled unflatteringly around my boobs. “We’ll take it in. And we’ll take out the waist.” Her hard finger jabbed that body part, feeling the fabric. “We don’t want the seam to pop.”
There was nothing like a dress fitting, I realized, to make you feel inadequate.
The other bridesmaids sat on the sofas around the small room, waiting for their turn. A tray of mimosas sat on the table. Vicki was on a chair, wearing leggings and a sweatshirt, watching me with an unreadable expression. She hadn’t spoken to me yet today.
“Let’s see it with the shoes,” Mom said.
Hayley turned to the stack of shoe boxes, pulling out the one with my name written on it in Sharpie. Everyone was staring at me. They have nothing else to look at, I reminded myself. This is supposed to be, like, a fun thing. I think. I took the shoe box and pulled out the high heels inside. They were my size, because Mom knew my shoe size without asking. I hated high heels, but the hounds of hell couldn’t make me complain. I put the shoes on the floor and stepped into one, releasing a little groan as my calves screamed.
“Are you okay?” Mom asked.
“Yeah. Just a pulled muscle in my leg.” All of the muscles in both of my legs.
I had thought myself pretty fit for a woman who was allergic to any kind of gym. Playing onstage isn’t for the weak, and it burns calories like a motherfucker. I wasn’t an athlete, but I had assumed I could do whatever came my way.
Then Finn had taken me out dancing.
At a nightclub. An actual fucking nightclub. Had I ever been to a nightclub? Maybe when I was twenty-one, but not since. It was such a rich-asshole thing to do.
Finn had brought me to some dark, throbbing club where, in our early thirties, we were the oldest ones there. The kids had glow sticks. The cover charge was outrageous. The price of a drink made me gasp. I didn’t know any of the music. It smelled weird, I had no desire to see the bathrooms, and not only the guys gave me the creeps, but some of the girls did, too.
Finn pulled me onto the dance floor, and we danced our asses off until two in the morning.
