“I’m not afraid to live dangerously,” I reply, hitting shuffle, waiting anxiously until an old Prince track comes on. I smirk across at him.
“Lucky break,” he says. “I wouldn’t want to be you every four minutes for the next hour.”
“You’re revealing more about your own shuffle,” I say, too stubborn to put an album on now.
Leo laughs and then sits back in his chair, letting out a big sigh. “I’m pretty wiped out. It’s some bloody pressure cooking for Olive fucking Stone.”
“It was good, my friend,” I say, tipping my glass in his direction. “Five forks out of five.”
“I’ve never wanted to be forked so much in my life,” he says as we stare out across the valley at the last flame of red on the horizon.
“Fork off,” I say, stealing a glance his way and grinning. “Ooh, can I bring out the chilled cherries in the icebox?”
“Yes, please,” he says, waving a hand as he kicks his sandals off.
While I’m inside, I take a moment, checking my hair in the mirror in the hall. I talk to myself. Remind myself that this isLeo.Don’t get carried away. Things are still complicated. I take a breath. “Be cool, bitch,” I say into the mirror.
“Cherry?” I say, returning with the brown paper bag.
“Please,” he says, grabbing the bag from me and taking a handful.
I toy with a cherry against my lips for a moment, and Leo watches me as I bite it in half. It’s sweet, tart, and fat, with juicy bloodred flesh. I look down at my stained fingers. Try in vain to remove the red color by sucking the tip of each finger.
Leo clears his throat, then reaches forward to take a cherry, lifting two, holding them above his mouth, before dropping the first one in whole. Then the second. I watch as he chews them, red juice running down the side of his mouth, which he clears with the edge of his tongue. The whole thing is extremely erotic, and I feel the return of want. Whenever there is silence between Leo and me, the vastness of my desire begins to call out.
“Leo,” I say, shaking my head. “I’ve hadalmostenough wine to find you eating cherries kinda hot.”
Leo turns his head slowly, his eyes rising to meet mine. “Almost enough?” he says teasingly. He reaches for the bottle and tops me up, pouring slowly. Deliberately.
I almost shoot back something daring. Witty. Heavily flirtatious.But I stop myself, turning from Leo’s gaze and staring out into the darkening night.
“I had this memory in Sicily of eating oranges in the sea. It was so the juice could run down your face, straight into the water,” I say. “No sticky fingers.”
I stand up and take my glass to the pool area, the soft lighting underneath the water giving the whole pool an otherworldly blue glow. The stone is still warm against my bare feet. I bring the bag of cherries with me. “Come on, Leo,” I say.
He stands, removing his shirt and joining me with our wine. He sets the glasses on the side of the pool next to the cherries and then dives straight in.
“That was well needed,” he says, emerging from the water, brushing his hair backward.
I point to the darkness beyond the edge of the pool and motion for him to turn around.
I lift my sundress up and toss it back toward the table, left in my black knickers and bra, and lower myself in. Then I turn to the brown paper bag full of cherries and hold two out to Leo. He swims over, and we stand, leaning against the stone, letting the bloodred juice run down our chins and into the water.
The fairy lights bathe our faces in a warm yellow glow.
“See,” I say, tonguing a cherry and dropping it into my mouth.
“It’s a life hack,” he says, finishing his wine. Leo rests his arms on the side of the pool and frowns like he wants to say something. But instead, he picks up another cherry, spinning the stem between his fingers.
One move here, and it’s all over.
Mazzy Star’s “Fade into You” comes on over the speakers; her tender voice and gentle acoustic guitar throw a deep,beautiful banket across us. It’s achingly romantic, the candlelight, the starry sky. Leo.
“Shuffle,” he says, as her voice guides us closer together, just inches from each other.
“It’s always a risky game,” I say as her voice sails above us. “It can really ruin a party.”
Leo’s eyes are all over my shoulders, my neck. Everywhere. And then after a moment they settle on mine, our faces lit by the silvery blue of the pool, then drop to my mouth. I feel my lips start to tingle under his gaze, and I move my tongue forward to wet them. Leo’s eyes trail from my mouth back to my eyes.
