“That’s incredible!” Margot picked up her wine, staring at us both. Could she detect anything? I had to put my game face on and act like nothing happened, otherwise she undoubtedly would.
“It really was.” I risked a look at Eliza, then had a flash of her riding my face again. Blood rushed to my cheeks. This is why you should never see your family in the first throes of a thing.
Not that we were a thing.
“Roka was great, she even got us on stage, and we met a few famous faces. The whole thing was like a weird, fever dream.”
Eliza nodded, her cheeks flushed, too. “We went backstage, front of stage, stayed in an incredible glamping tent.”
“I couldn’t believe you agreed to camping,” Max laughed. He was way more ripped than I remembered, his biceps on show beneath his short-sleeved shirt, his stubble perfectly set to 5pm. “My daughter is not known for her love of the outdoors.”
“Even you would have been okay,” I told Margot, who was also famously allergic to nature. “This was five-star camping with champagne, a hot tub, pastries brought to your tent in the morning, a coffee cart whenever you needed it.”
Why had I mentioned the pastries? I glanced down at my nipple that Eliza had recently sucked dry. Glitter cascaded through me.
“Did you meet anyone famous?” Katy’s face lit up. “Did you meet Lady Gaga? She’s playing today.”
Eliza reeled off a few names, and Bryce and Katy made impressed noises.
“They were all really lovely. I met a woman this morning in the tent next to us. I’m sure she’s an A-List actor, but you know me and faces.”
“I do,” Katy replied. “Poppy is not fazed by famous people, mainly because she has no idea who the hell they are 99% of the time.” She shook her head, then sipped her wine. “I was saying to Poppy when I picked her up, it must have been a late one because her eyes are still bloodshot. Tell me what time you were up ’til. Let me relive my youth.”
I really didn’t want to do that. My temperature rose smartly, and suddenly it was all a little bit much. I ate a mouthful of potato, then pushed back my chair.
“I’ll fill you in when I’m back. Just nipping to the loo,” I said.
Eliza immediately jumped up, too. “I’ll show you where it is. I need to plug my phone in. Poppy hogged the charger last night, and it’s nearly out of juice.”
I slipped into the downstairs loo and gripped the edge of the basin, staring at my reflection in the pill-shaped mirror. My cheeks were flushed, my eyes still had that telltale glassy look that came from too little sleep. In fact, I looked exactly like someone who’d spent the weekend having the best sex of her life.
The door opened behind me and Eliza slipped in, turning the lock with a soft click.
“Sorry,” she said immediately, leaning against the door. “I had no idea this was going to happen today. I assume you didn’t, either?”
“Believe me, I would have mentioned it. Or at least made up a mystery illness which meant I couldn’t come.”
I shook my head, then suddenly we were both laughing. Quiet, slightly hysterical laughter at the absurdity of sitting around a family dinner table pretending we hadn’t been doing unspeakably filthy things to each other mere hours ago.
The laughter died as we looked at each other properly for the first time since we’d arrived. The small space was charged, intimate in a way that made my pulse quicken.
Eliza licked her lips, then stepped closer, and before I could think of all the reasons this was a terrible idea, she kissed me. She made a habit of doing that, and I made a habit of falling for it.
I kissed her back for a few long, unhurried moments, before I came to my senses and pressed my fingertips to her chest.
As she leaned back, she inhaled deeply. “Sorry. It was just kinda torture sitting with you and not touching you.”
“I meant what I said earlier, and I thought we agreed,” I whispered, conscious of six other people sitting just down the hall. “This was a one-time weekend thing. We can’t keep doing it. It’s not part of the plan.”
“I know.”
She looked so hurt, my heart contracted. I didn’t want to be the cause of hurt to Eliza.
“It’s just... I can’t stop thinking about this morning. About your fingers inside me, about the way you—”
“Eliza.” I couldn’t take it if she was going to start talking like that, as if it wasn’t already playing like a really insistent movie in my mind. “I get it. But we can’t.”
She backed me up against the sink. “We agreed it was a weekend thing, right?” She kissed my lips, ever-so-gently, her breath hot. “It’s still Sunday.”
