Star-Crossed(48)
They’d gotten married in their twenties and had babies. Now they went to baseball
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practices and dance competitions. They stood outside the schoolyard talking and gossiping with each other, and they were truly happy. Jules could see it on their faces.
And she was on the outside of all of it. She told herself all the time that she didn’t need those things, but it was a lie. She wanted a husband and kids and so very much more than an old house and a broken twin who didn’t know how to find happiness any more than she did. Now she was nearing her thirty-fourth birthday, and she might never have it.
“Hey,” Romeo answered on the second ring.
“Am I a bully?” she sobbed into the phone. “Do you think I’m too rough ’round the edges? Do you think I’m gonna be alone forever?”
“Whoa.” Romeo’s voice softened as he said, “Jules, come on, calm down. What’s going on?”
“I don’t like it when you call me Jules,” she finally admitted, though she’d probably deny it tomorrow. “Everyone in this town calls me Jules, and they all think I’m gonna die old and alone like my father did and my grandfather and every other Conner ’cause we’re cursed. Didja know that?”
“Tino, get outta my room,” Romeo barked at his brother rather than respond to Jules.
Jules heard Tino laugh. “Tell me how you really feel.”
“Now, Valentino! Get the fuck out now!” The phone crackled as if there was a scuffle on the other end. “You got your own room. Go find it.”
“Wow, no love.” Tino grumbled. “I see how it is. Selling out blood for sticchiu.”
“Non mi rompere le palle, non mi scazzare i coglioni, ” Romeo said over the slam of a door. “Testa di cazzo. ”
Jules waited for something else to happen. When there was nothing but Romeo’s heavy breathing on the other end, she finally sniffed and asked, “What’d you say to him?”
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“I told him to stop busting my balls. Then I called him a dickhead.” Jules wiped at her cheeks, a smile tugging at her lips. “Not nice.”
“He’s been called worse.”
“If you say so.”
“You’re not cursed, Juliet,” Romeo said endearingly, placing heavy emphasis on her full name. “And you’re not a bully. Trust me, I know bullies and you aren’t it.” She pouted, tears still streaming down her face. “But I’m not one of those soft and sweet women like Melody. You’ve spent time with her on this tour with Clay. You know what I mean. What man would want someone like me when they could have someone like her instead? Someone lovable.”
“This man,” Romeo said without hesitation. “Not real sure if I count, but I like your rough edges. They turn me on.”
Jules found herself smiling once more in spite of the tears. “Yeah?”
“Oh yeah.” Romeo hummed, his voice still warm in a way that made her stomach tingle. “And I think you’re lovable. Very much so. In a different life it’d be easy to love you. Hell, it’d be easy in this life if shit wasn’t so fucking complicated.” Jules’s breath caught as she sat there on her bed and tried to fully absorb what Romeo was admitting. She was vulnerable right now, but she was always practical. The same tiring warning bells went off and not only did she choose to ignore them, but she decided right then and there to turn them off completely.
“You count, Romeo,” she said softly as fresh tears of an entirely different nature rolled down her cheeks. “More than anyone else’s counted—ever. More than anyone probably ever will.”
“You wanna do something different tonight?” Romeo asked with a hitch in his voice that was more than desire.
“Like what?”
“Let me see you,” Romeo said earnestly. “Video chat with me.”
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Jules laughed skeptically. “Oh God, no; I look horrible.”
“That’s impossible.”
“I’ve been crying. I’m showered and dressed for bed. I ain’t got a lick of makeup on.”
“That’s exactly how I want you,” Romeo said, confident and compelling, drawing her in. “Show me your rough edges, Juliet.”
The heat blossomed inside Jules, softening her, making her feel exactly how she needed to feel in that moment—womanly, cherished, lovable. Her breath hitched; her voice became husky in obvious arousal as she asked, “You’re talking ’bout more than just chatting.”
“Hell yes, I am.”
Jules wasn’t naive. She knew the dangers of revealing herself like that. He could record her. He could plaster her image all over the Internet. Three months ago there was nothing in the world that would’ve convinced her she’d be considering doing something that left her so completely exposed.