Page 69 of Once Smitten, Twice Shy

Juliet:Is it? Going on a tirade isn’t necessarily the definition of being flirty.

I smile down at my phone, then throw the stick for Hector and lean back against the fence.

Will:Well, that tirade did it for me. 10/10.

Will:I want to ask some more rapid-fire questions, if that’s okay.

Juliet:I liked doing that yesterday . Ready when you are!

Will:Road trip or flight?

Juliet:Road trip!

I grin at her response. I love driving, enjoying not just my destination but the journey to get there. I’ll fly places when it’s the most practical way to get there, but otherwise, it’s the open road, for me.

Will:Same here.

Juliet:Favorite cheese?

I snort. This woman. My favoritecheese?

Will:Gouda & if you hate it, don’t tell me. I can’t handle the pain.

Juliet:I LOVE GOUDA. It’s smoky! It’s creamy! Shit, now I want some.

Will:It’s the smokiness for me. Peat-smoked whiskey. Chargrilled veggies. Anything that makes me taste a bonfire in my mouth is a win.

Juliet:Yesss. When you’re here this weekend, we’ve got to stop by Nanette’s, my favorite pastry shop. They’ve been slow on rolling out gluten-free treats, BUT they recently added an ice cream booth & holy shit, their smoked chocolate caramel ribbon is TO DIE FOR.

Will:Sold.

Will:Next question’s mine: What’s the best thing that happened to you today?

She doesn’t respond right away, and I’m about to poke her with a reminder that these arerapid-fire, when her text comes in.

Juliet:This bath.

And then a picture pops up. I nearly drop my phone.

A sea of bubbles. Candles flickering golden in the corners against the white subway tiles. Her knees breaking the water’s surface, ten pink toenails peeking out farther down. It’s a very tame photo, objectively speaking, but I’m just so fucking hungry for this woman, seeing a sliver of her legs, the suggestion of her naked body in warm, sudsy water, is turning me rock hard.

I know I’m breaking the rules, that I’m supposed to rapid-fire respond back, but I’m speechless, white knuckling my phone. Her next text comes through and startles me so badly, this time I do drop it. I scoop my phone up from the grass, brush dirt off thescreen, and beg the blood that rushed south to come back to my brain, so it can process what my eyes are reading:

Juliet:What about you? Best thing that happened to you today?

Well, that’s easy to answer. I type my response back, then hit send.

Will:This photo. Obviously.

•Twenty-One•

Juliet

I’m back in the tub again the next morning, soaking in piping-hot water, willing away the ache in my joints as steam curls from the tub into the morning light. I haven’t heard from Will yet what the plan is for tonight, but whatever it is, I’d like not to feel like a corpse for it.

I’ve eaten breakfast and popped my hefty naproxen sodium. Now I just wait to see if it’ll help. Waiting to figure out if my body’s going to feel better. Waiting to hear from Will. Waiting to figure out how the hell I’m going to keep my body in check this weekend, when just the thought of him makes me ache right between my thighs. I’m too impatient a person to handle it—I’m not built for this much delayed gratification!

Like a divine universal blessing, my phone starts to buzz. As long as it’s not a telemarketer, or that weird guy who keeps trying to order a pastrami sandwich when I’ve told him a dozen times he has the wrong number, I’ll pick up. I need something to distract me from all this waiting around.

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