Page 130 of Renegade Rift

“I realized, I owe it to you and myself to see our third date through before I read that article and let reality come crashing in.”

Frustration edges my tone. “But reality is?—”

“Not where we’ve been living.” She pauses, and when she speaks again, there’s whimsy and hope in her voice. “There’s something about the Row. About this team. Time stops here. Or at least it has for me. It’s shown me what true friendships look like, with a side of family and baseball. It would be so easy to let ourselves live in this space forever. But that’s not real—the article is—and we need to decide if we want to take this from Row to reality.” Juliet steps forward and takes my hands. Her touch is electric as she gives them a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “But not tonight. Tonight, I only want it to be you and me and these four walls. Preferably with as little clothing as possible. Then tomorrow morning we can have all the grown-up conversations.”

Stunned doesn’t even begin to describe the feeling bubbling in me.

Who is this woman? Because I know she’s not the one who walked into my apartment all those weeks ago. That woman would have pushed me away and ran. But this woman in front of me? She’s a force to be reckoned with.

I swallow hard past the emotion in my throat and smile so she can’t see me blink away the tears that burn at the corner of my eyes. “You can’t say that to me and then expect me to eat dessert like you didn’t just tell me you want to fuck me senseless.”

Juliet grins. “What if I said there’s the option of using me as a plate?”

Fuck, she’s perfect.

“I’m listening.”

She drops my hands again—something I wish she’d stop doing—and grabs my gift from the couch. “Open it.”

An easy smile tips my lips as I pull the tissue paper out and a smaller velvet bag falls into my hand. It looks suspiciously like the same bag I gave Juliet her rose quartz dice in and given the clacking that sounds when I give it a shake, I’d say she’s repaid the favor.

“Dice?”

“Take a look.”

Pulling open the drawstring, I tip the bag and two black dice with bronze writing fall into my palm. One has six sides, while the other has ten. Only there aren’t numbers on those sides. There are words.

I pick up the first one and examine it.

Lick.

Stroke.

Suck.

Kiss.

Blow.

You choose.

Fuck me. They’re sex dice.

I’m almost afraid to, but I pick up the next one.

Lips.

Neck.

Inner Thigh.

Below Navel.

Ears.

Nipples.

Fingers.

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