In the grand living room of the house was a nine-piece jazz band absolutely tearing it up. Over the bobbing of heads, Ophelia noted sweat beading on the players’ brows. It seemed impossible that all nine large men and their instruments could fit in the room, but the room appeared to expand just for them.
The musicians were surrounded by more luscious flowers and greenery intertwined in the trellis of an arch. In the back of the room was an ornate four-poster queen bed, where guests were piled on top of each other, lounging. It wasn’t an orgy, per se, or at least she didn’t think so, but they were all touching, caressing each other’s arms. They were all barely clothed in handcrafted, eccentric costumes. One person was swaying to the music, others were kissing, some were telling stories with grand gestures, but they didn’t feel real. It felt like they were acting. Like the whole party was a play for Ophelia to experience, and everyone there already knew their role.
Ophelia drained her glass of champagne and started to move. The horns were magnificently loud, and the vibrations from the sound were so strong she could feel it in her bones. It was impossible not to dance. Mateo and Ophelia found themselves in a familiar place again, moving around a dance floor. Ophelia felt like it was a mating ritual at this point, but she supposed it had always been one.
She was adjusting to his scent. It was still there, but she was acclimating to it. She let the party consume her.
At midnight, exhausted and drenched with spilled champagne and sweat from dancing, they retreated to the backyard for fresh air. The yard was unsurprisingly unique with a giant oak tree towering in the center, its heavy limbs resting on the ground. Under the tree and randomly throughout the yard were vintage claw-foot tubs overflowing with pillows and blankets.
“Wait here. I’ll be right back,” said Mateo, gently squeezing her hand for reassurance.
Leaning against the wood siding of the house, Opheliawatched people mill about in the backyard.As she observed the party lost in thought, she felt a tingling sensation on her right as if someone was staring at her. Curious, she looked in that direction and caught eyes with Etienne. She inhaled sharply. She was not prepared to see him so soon after their awkwardly erotic treating session.
Etienne smiled at her in the only way that his reserved nature would allow. With ease, she returned the smile and watched him break away from his group of friends and saunter toward her.
He was dressed in Kelly-green pants and no shirt, just suntanned abs and chest hair. Apparently, going shirtless was the preferred dress for men at this party. He had a couple of creeping thistle blooms tucked behind his right ear. She tried not to ogle and look only at his face.
“Hey, O,” Etienne drawled. “What are you doing here?”
Ophelia looked at him skeptically. His tone almost sounded as if he thought she didn’t belong here. “Well, it’s a party, and I like those,” she said with a haughty smirk.
He huffed a laugh. “Yes, well, I know that. I didn’t know that you knew Felix or Liza.”
“I don’t. Are those the owners of the home? I was invited by a friend.”
“Yeah, I know Felix through family friends. We grew up kinda near each other.”
Great. Does that mean Ben is here?Ophelia began to look around anxiously. Etienne reached out and sympathetically squeezed her elbow. As if reading her mind, Etienne said, “Don’t worry. Ben’s not here.” The weight of his hand was shocking. She twitched from the overwhelming feeling, and he awkwardly dropped his hand.
“Oh, okay, good,” she said, not even trying to hide her relief.
Etienne dipped his head to her level and whispered in his baritone voice, “So how are you feeling about this new magical world?” His eyebrows raised in curiosity.
“Bewildered. Shocked. Distracted.” She took a large drink of her champagne. “The whole world seems different.”
Etienne hummed. “I went through that too. It’s like the veil has been lifted and anything is possible.”
Ophelia’s eyes widened at his words. “Yes, exactly. It’s very unsettling.”
“Do y—” Etienne’s question died on his tongue as Mateo walked up and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“Hey, wild one,” Mateo said to Ophelia, pulling her tighter into his side. “Hey, man,” he said with a head nod to Etienne.
A calm, calculated look took over Etienne’s warm features, and he suddenly appeared even taller than usual.
“Mateo, this is my friend, Etienne.”
Mateo shook Etienne’s hand, both men sizing the other up. Ophelia observed them posturing. Etienne was several inches taller than Mateo. Etienne was brawny with a thick beard, chest hair, and limbs corded with muscles and veins, while Mateo, in contrast, was svelte and elegant in a masculine, artistic way. One was as solid as the earth with roots and vegetation grounding him as the protector, the ruler of the natural world, while the other was a god of art and beauty, reflecting rays of gold.
The two men continued to stare each other down.Interesting. They don’t like each other.Ophelia cocked her head in amusement.
Mateo abruptly clapped his hands together, breaking up the tension. “Ophelia, my wild one, let’s go tubbin’.” Mateo wagged his eyebrows flirtatiously, his mouth twisted into a mischievous smile.
“Huh?” Ophelia murmured, confused.
“The bathtubs.” Mateo gestured to the claw-foot tubs that were placed sporadically throughout the back of the yard. “Come on.” He slid his hand into hers with a possessive grip.
“Oh,” said Ophelia with an uneasy chuckle. “Sure. Etienne, it was good to see you.”
