Page 109 of Once Smitten, Twice Shy

“Yes, it is,” I tell Juliet, eyes down on my food to avoid her gaze.

My plan begins with inviting her up to my home tomorrow, to see the eclipse, get a tour of the place, stay the night. She can meet my parents and sisters and niece and nephew, who’ll be busy enough that they won’t have endless time to grill her and overwhelm her. A solid first introduction.

“I wish I could see it,” Sula says. “But hotels have been booked up for like a year. And you know traffic is going to suck if we were to drive up for the day and try to drive back after.”

Kate nods. “Yeah, that’s true.”

“Wait!” Bea says, dropping her chip, dusting off her hands. She pulls out her phone from her skirt pocket. “Jamie’s house, the one his aunt gave him, it’s in your town, too, Will! Illyria, right?”

I nod. “That’s right.”

“There’s plenty of room,” Bea says. “We could all fit. At least, I think we all could. But, I mean, there are couches, air mattresses; we’ll make it work.”

Sula stares at Bea. She looks like she might cry. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”

Bea nods excitedly. Sula sets her hands on both sides of her face.

Kate throws back her head and yells, “Road trip!”

—

The sun is the faintest nectarine sliver, curved on the edge of the horizon. Juliet and I hold hands as we sit on what I have been reassured are the now repaired and reinforced swings of the play set straddling her backyard and Petruchio’s, swaying slowly, sipping our to-go coffees. She smiles at me over her coffee cup. I smile back. She drags her tongue against its edge, and I narrow my eyes at her. “Don’t look at me like that, not right now.”

She shrugs happily. “Just remembering last night fondly.”

I groan. We were both so exhausted after all day at the Edgy Envelope that we collapsed into her bed and barely managed to make out before we fell asleep. The last thing I remember is Juliet’s bite of my bottom lip, her tongue dragging over it, before I crashed.

I woke up desperate for her, but there was no time—we have a full day ahead of us, and we have to hit the road as soon as possible so we don’t get stuck in the worst of the traffic caused by folks driving to see the eclipse.

I shake my head. “You’re cruel.”

She grins. “I like cuddling and making out with you. Get over it.”

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out, reading the message.

“Christopher’s up?” she asks.

I nod, pocketing my phone. Juliet stands from the swing, leans in, and kisses me softly. “Good luck.”

I watch her walk across the yard, just like I did that first day, up the steps, until she’s inside her parents’ house. And then I get up, too, and walk the length of Petruchio’s house, turning the corner for his porch. Sinking onto his front steps, I text him back,Out front.

For a few minutes, I sit there, elbows on my knees, hands laced together, eyes on the horizon. When I hear the creak of his front door opening, I glance over my shoulder.

Petruchio stands on his threshold in sweatpants and a T-shirt, frowning, looking a bit worried. I texted him an hour ago that I needed to talk, but I didn’t tell him why. I feel bad for making him uneasy, but I couldn’t tell him what I wanted to talk about over text. This is an in-person conversation.

He shuts the door behind him, scrubbing at his hair, which is sticking up every which way, a coffee cup in his other hand. “Want to come in?”

I shrug as I pick up my coffee from the step beside me. “We can talk here. There. Up to you.”

He crosses the porch and lowers onto the steps beside me. “What’s going on?”

I turn my to-go cup in my hands. “I need to talk to you.”

His eyes dance between mine, his frown deepening. “I’m listening.”

“Sorry for the early text, if I woke you up,” I tell him. I sip my coffee and try to steady my racing heart.

“I wasn’t asleep,” he grumbles.

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