Page 32 of All's Well that Friends Well

I’m still going to wear however much pink I want, and I’m still going to wear cute shoes. I’ll simply need to adjust a bit.

Even though I’m not looking at Poppy and my sisters behind me, I can feel their anxiety as well as I can feel mine; even Aurora is shifting in place, a little restless.

It’s something I never would have known about having sisters if I hadn’t lived it—people I love like they’re extensions of myself. I know what they’re doing, how they’re moving, even when my eyes aren’t on them. I can feel it, feel the space between us as it changes and fluctuates. I know them so well that their still silences and moving silences and anxious silences and calm silences all sound different to me.

Those silences grow even more restless until finally I raise my hand to knock again. Just before my fist makes contact with the door, though, it swings open with a lurch.

“Sorry,” Luca says as he comes into view. His voice is gruff and faintly breathless, a towel draped around his shoulders, his hair wet. He has on a white t-shirt and basketball shorts, but it couldn’t be clearer he’s fresh out of the shower.

Andwow.Who knew a towel could be such a great accessory? His blue-green scent is rollingoff of him in waves, and I kind of want to just scurry up his body and bury my face in his neck?—

Focus, Juliet,I tell myself sternly. So I clear my throat and then speak. “You texted me and asked me to drop by,” I say.

His dark gaze moves from me to my sisters and Poppy, one eyebrow lifting. “And you brought your whole family.”

“Yes, well,” I say. I make myself straighten up. “I’m concerned you’re about to fire me. I need backup.”

And I swear—Iswear—his lips almost twitch. But the next second that expression is gone, and I’m left wondering if I imagined it, because when he speaks again, his face is impassive, his voice gravelly as ever.

“I’m not firing you,” he says. There’s an abrupt pause, and then he goes on, “I need some of the closet space in several of the upstairs rooms, so I cleared a few things out.” He reaches for something out of sight and then pulls out a large, lumpy garbage bag. “Here,” he says, thrusting it toward me.

I reach for the bag blindly, my mind whirring. I can feel the utter bewilderment on my face, but I don’t try to pretend anything else; I just pry the ties loose and then peek inside the garbage sack.

Some of my clothes, but mostly Aurora’s—old work pants, some button-ups, a couple pairs of khakis?—

And it hits me then, what he’s doing. My head jerks up, but he won’t meet my eyes, and his cheeks are vaguely pink. That could be because he was in the shower, but somehow I don’t think so.

Poppy doesn’t either; after a quick glance inside the bag, she comes to the same conclusion I did, sending me a startled look. I nod slowly while Luca rubs the back of his neck andlooks generally awkward. It’s strange to see, because I’m used to him being stern and rude and overbearing.

“We’ll take them off your hands,” I say, and I’m embarrassed to hear my voice scratch the back of my throat.

I’d bet every high heel I own that he somehow heard or saw what I wore today. I lied to Cyrus on the phone earlier; no one was overtly rude to me, but they weren’t warm and welcoming, either, and I think it was because of my outfit.

Why didn’t I think to look in our closets here for better work clothes? I was planning on going to the thrift shop or shopping clearance. I can’t afford new clothes right now. And even though I know India and Aurora would help me in a heartbeat, I don’t want to ask.

A humiliation-tinged gratitude wells up inside me, one I don’t know how to handle. It’s probably a good thing Luca’s not looking at me, because I can feel my cheeks turning pink. My eyes burn too, but I blink them forcefully. I almost get out aThank you, but for whatever reason, Luca seems insistent on pretending he really does just need the closet space.

He doesn’t want me to think he’s helping me by providing more suitable work attire. I can play along, I guess.

Behind me, however, Aurora and India have not caught on. India is silent, though I can hear her stewing, but Aurora is scoffing and muttering to herself under her breath. I take a step backward and dig my heel forcefully into her toes.

“Ow,” she says irritably, yanking her foot away. “That’s my—” But she breaks off as Poppy turns and places one arm around each of my sisters, pushing rather than leading them back to the car and leaving me alone with Luca.

And I can’t hold it in. “Thank you,” I say; the words burst out of me. “I—thanks.”

He mumbles something nondescript as his gaze continues to hide from mine, his cheeks turning even pinker.

“You know,” I say, because I can’t help it, “this is really kind of you. You’re being nice to me.”

“No, I’m not,” he says as finally he looks me in the eye. “I’m not doing anything. I just need the space.” His words are more firm now, much more like the version of him I’ve become accustomed to. “That’s it. That’s all. So don’t read anything into it.”

I hum, tilting my head as I look up at him. “If you say so.”

But my embarrassment and gratitude are turning into to something warmer, something less definable. I take a step back and give him a little wave. “Let me know if you need anything else cleared out.”

The tension in his shoulders eases now that I’m once again playing along with his charade. He grunts, gives me a little nod, and then closes the door.

And despite the abrupt end to our conversation, I can’t stop the smile that spreads over my lips.

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