Page 83 of Revenge Puck

It’s also entirely possible that Storm is into Juliette because I’m into Juliette.

Men are simple creatures. See another man holding something shiny? Suddenly, we need it, even if we didn’t know it existed five minutes ago.

Hence, his appearance here.

The library.

Of all the places for him to randomly show up, it had to be between a children’s reading nook and a rack of donated romance novels. Like, give me a fucking break.

From my spot near the entrance, I watch Juliette’s car back out of the parking spot and ease into the street. Her brake lights glow red for a second before she turns the corner and disappears.

“You heading home?” I ask.

She hums softly through the phone. “Yup. Well, no. I’m going to my friend’s place.” A pause. “Have a good time at practice.”

Ihuffa quiet laugh. “Yeah. I’ll try.”

Not likely.

Not with Declan Kennedy breathing down my neck, sniffing around for…something. He’s paranoid. Protective. And a lot fearful I’m going to spill his dirty little secret to his precious sister.

I mean—I will.

Eventually.

FIFTEEN

JULIETTE

Blaire doesn’t even let me set down my purse before she demands, “Start from the beginning and don’t leave anything out.”

“I just got here. Let me at least—” I stop when I get a look at her face. My best friend is not playing around; she wants the details, and she wants them now. Two wine glasses in her hands, one of them extended to me.

I take it. Saunter to her living room with her hot on my trail.

“You are going to be the death of me, I swear to God,” she grumbles, falling on the couch next to me, knees tucked under her, eyes bright and predatory. “From the top, please. You texted me that you were outside his building and ‘rethinking your life choices’ and almost changed your mind. Then what happened?”

I have told her this story ten times already, but we haven’t been together in person.

I sigh dramatically and take a long sip of wine. “To summarize—this sex may be worth getting fired over.”

Blaire slaps the back of the couch. “I knew it. I freaking knew it!”

I roll my eyes. She has no idea the internal battle I’ve been dealing with because I slept with a player.

“Do not joke about that,” she says, though she’s grinning from ear to ear. “You are not losing your job over good sex. No man is worth it!”

She raises her glass and we toast, glasses clinking together.

“Amen!” I say. “But I mean…”

“No, Juliette, knock it off.” She laughs. “I’m serious. He’s your Hall Pass, not the father of your future children.”

My jaw drops, mouth gaping. “You literally have daydreams about me becoming a WAG and living the life of luxury.”

“No! I have dreams ofmebecoming a WAG and living the life of luxury! Stop confusing the two.” She points the wine glass accusingly in my direction, and I watch as the liquid sloshes inside. “I wouldthrivein luxury. I was born for soft lighting and private drivers.”

I roll my eyes as I take another sip. “You get carsick in Ubers.”