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“You know what, Junie? Not everybody had the benefit of a golden childhood like you did.”
Junie pulled out of his arms completely, facing him dead on, her exquisite face no less perfect for its anger. She was stunning.
She laughed. “Listen, I know people who have eaten shit their entire fucking lives and they don’t act like bitches. Having a shit childhood is no excuse for deliberately trying to fuck things up for other people. People who have suffered either follow along the same selfish path they’ve been taught, or they become super empathetic. Guess which one your Vanessa is?”
Lenny stood from his chair, placing a proprietary hand on Junie’s shoulder. She looked hopeful for a moment.
“Barrett, can you drop Junie home?”
Her face closed tight, and she shook off his hand. “I can find my own way home. Unlike some people, I can look after myself. Why don’t you take some time to think about what you want and give me a call?” She shrugged as she stood. “Or not.”
Junie ducked his questing hand once again, whirled away, and headed towards the bathroom. A handsome, older man stopped her on her way, his concerned eyes flickering between her and Lenny. If anyone looked the part of the damsel in distress, it was Junie, however, she was anything but.
Her voice carried back to us. “Thank you, honestly, but I’m fine. Somebody just needs to figure out what he has before what he has loses her fucking patience.”
Chapter 30
Plans of My Own
Willa
“Have you heard from Junie this morning?”
Barrett curled protectively around my back in my bed. It had been a wild night full of emotions, first due to it being the last performance of the summer, then Sarah’s antics, followed by the finale of Vanessa. Junie had been silent but wound up tighter than a drum when we drove her home. I had offered to stay with her, but she firmly declined.
“No, Willa, not a chance. This is not unexpected, just disappointing.”
She hugged me and trotted up to her door. Barrett waited until she went inside and only then did he pull away from the curb.
As he drove, I pondered the injustice of a world where Junie, stunningly beautiful, smart, wicked fun, full of dreams of wedded bliss and poopy diapers, couldn’t find someone to love her, and I, a neurotic mess likely incapable of giving someone forever, ends up with the most loving man on the planet.
We walked into my quiet apartment, and I hung my purse on the hook at the door.
“Let’s have a shower, Viking,” I suggested.
He smiled at me with his eyes. “You want to wash my hair?”
I blushed. “I do.”
I loved washing his hair. I loved to watch the lines in his face fade, the tightness in his jaw release, and his mouth soften. I loved to stand in the tiny space with him on his knees before me, his arms looped around my hips, his forehead resting on my breastbone as I massaged the knots out of his neck and offered him my comfort.
“Okay, curly, I could go for your hands in my hair.”
I looked at him sideways. “Are we talking about the same thing?”
He laughed, reaching out and pulling me towards him. “Probably not, but we’ll start with your way.”
I snorted. “I mean, I’m not opposed to your way! We can get to that, too, right?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” he turned me and pushed me towards the kitchen where he filled two glasses with water and then we headed to the shower.
I smoothed his wet hair back from his forehead, smoothed my thumbs over the lines embedded there. I traced the contours of his face with the tips of my fingers, committing this moment to memory. I no longer felt as though I had to steal the moments, but I still worried about storing them for a time when I could collect no more.
His hands began to roam my backside and he pressed a kiss between my breasts.
“C’mon, Viking, let’s go to bed,” I said huskily.
I stepped out of the shower, and he hauled his big body off the floor and stepped out beside me. He took ownership of my towel and dried me off before running it quickly over himself.
