He pauses, a smile playing about his lips as he examinesone. I crane my neck to get a look and realize it’s a photograph of me laughing. He moves on to the next, another of me. His smile widens.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jackson stroll past the window. I swivel toward the door in time to see him walk in. He lifts his chin at me, smiling, and the next thing I know, I’m being turned back to face Étienne.
“What are you doing?” I ask with a laugh.
In response, he brushes his thumb across my bare thigh.
Playtime,I think as goose bumps spring up in the wake of his touch.
He rests his hand on my leg, his fingers curling around the edge of my knee, before letting go and turning toward the bar.
That had to be the longest two seconds known to humankind.
“All good?” I ask Jackson, trying to appear unfazed by the heat that’s flooded myentirebody.
I realize it’s just pretend, but clearly my skin doesn’t know the difference.
His eyes dart up from my leg and he nods, but his smile is no longer as easy.
“What can I get you?” Lise interrupts.
“I’ll have a beer, please.” He slides onto the stool to my left.
My nerves are jangling.
Lise catches my eye. I give her a weak smile. I feel as though she’s watching my every move now. I look past her at Eve smiling out from the wall, and the feeling of being judged intensifies.
“You seem familiar to me,” Jackson says out of the blue. I realize he’s talking to Étienne. “I feel as if we’ve met before. Like, before this summer.”
Étienne shrugs and raises his beer. “I’ve seen you around so you’ve probably seen me.”
Jackson’s brow is furrowed. He tugs his eyes away to address me. “Have you told Étienne about your mosaic idea?”
“No, I only came up with it in the grotto.”
“What idea?” Étienne interrupts.
I scoot my stool back so I can see them both. Jackson’s expression is warm as I explain, but Étienne looks dubious at my suggestion of hooking up sound.
“Crickets chirping and dripping water echoing off the walls?” he asks dryly.
“No insects,” I reply. “And the water wouldn’t be loud drips, more like little tinkles.”
He smirks and takes a sip of his beer.
“God, that sounds shit,” I mutter.
“No, it doesn’t,” Jackson reassures me, frowning at Étienne.
“No, he’s right,” I reply. “We don’t want it to be like something out of Disneyland.”
“I’m sure you could do it subtly,” Étienne says, brushing his knuckles against my knee. “You know what you’re doing.”
Jackson gives compliments away easily—he’s lovely like that—but Étienne’s praise feels harder won and even more gratifying. What I really like though, is the casual way he just touched me. Unlike earlier, he wasn’t doing it to make Jackson jealous. It felt natural. Real. And I want him to do it again.
Later that night,my mood takes a downturn. I’m lying in bed thinking about Lise’s words.He gave her his whole heart…he held nothing back. When I compare the description of Étienne’s relationship with Eve to the games he and I play, I feel kind of dirty. This is all a bit of fun for him, but it’s starting to feel less like fun for me.
I don’t mean that I don’t like it. I mean that I like it too much. But it worries me that he could stop this just as easily as he started it.
