‘I’d rather bite my own toenails,’ said Noah, grimacing.
Well, there went the naked shower visual.
‘Funny you should say that,’ said Tiff, ‘because Molly used to do that as a child.’
I had to say, I preferred it when Tiff erred on the side of moderation.
‘Thanks for that, Tiff,’ I said cheerfully, with a look that said she’d better watch out, or she might find her bed magically short-sheeted tonight.
The Bangles cover band were halfway through a decentrendition of ‘Hazy Shade of Winter’, which they’d announced would be their last song. All around, festival-goers were up and about, singing along, and an all-ages dance circle had formed in front of the stage. I laughed as I watched toddlers bop around alongside teenagers and grannies, all of them in costume – everything from cutesy pumpkin outfits to witchy gowns. Some weren’t bad: there were a few teens who were managing a solid attempt at West Coast Swing, which I’d dabbled in during college.
The song ended with a crashing of guitars, and the band stepped aside for Finn, who had his shirt half-unbuttoned and his guitar slung casually over his shoulder.
‘Hello, abs,’ said Tiff. She clapped her hands over her mouth. ‘Don’t tell Damien I said that.’
‘Your six-pack’s safe with me,’ I whispered, bursting into giggles.
‘Oh, shut up,’ said Tiff.
The sunset was in its full glory now, and the sky was striped with red, pink and purple. It was a magnificent backdrop, and one that lit Finn up in a way that gave him an ethereal, almost faun-like appearance.
Seeing us in the crowd, he pointed, then gave a wink that made a few of the college-aged girls in the crowd shriek and titter. And some of their moms, as well.
‘Give ’em hell, hon!’ shouted Rosie, waving a sparkler she’d produced from the picnic basket. Mom squealed as it got too close to the cheese, melting the edge of the gouda.
Adjusting the microphone, Finn softly strummed the guitar. The gentle notes of the instrument rang out against the clear night, and a murmur went up among the crowd. Candles and phone flashlights lit up the dusky air, sparkling alongside the glitter of the setting sun on the ocean below us.
Finn played a bum note, then chuckled. ‘Sorry. I probably should’ve practised.’
A murmur of amusement went up through the crowd; Rosieshook her head ruefully. Trust Finn to admit something like that and receive positive feedback.
After a few attempts, he found his way into the song.
‘Ah, there we go,’ he said, nodding as the crowd clapped along.
Lara came swooping in, pulling me to my feet. ‘Looks like he’s playing your song, babe.’
She was right: it was a ballad I’d heard Finn play dozens of times over the years, usually around a beachside bonfire or out on the back lawn of the Pink House.
‘No luck with Mr Wall Street?’ I asked tipsily, glancing around for the guy I’d last seen her with.
‘The night’s still early,’ said Lara, slightly cagily.
The ciders had gone to my head, and I let out a whoop that set off a few other nearby cheers.
‘Very restrained, Molly.’ Lara’s moon-shaped face paint sparkled on her cheek, glowing with the gentle magic the artist had imbued it with. Seeing me staring at it, she tapped her cheek, then pointed at Noah. ‘Shame you weren’t on face-painting duty tonight.’
‘I’m … off the clock,’ said Noah, knitting his hands together. ‘And I don’t have my paints.’
I flushed. The thought of Noah’s hands on my face, even if it were for something as trivial as face painting, was almost too much to bear.
Lara passed him her makeup case. ‘That’s better than your paints. Don’t touch the pink lipstick, though. The colour is discontinued. I bought that tube off eBay for a criminal amount.’
‘Go on, Noah. Don’t be a wet blanket,’ said Rosie, who’d just sloshed her punch all over the blanket. She giggled. ‘See? Not like that.’
Mom mopped up the spill with her scarf, which she’d lightly charmed with a cleaning spell. ‘Might be time to cut you off.’
Looking as if he wanted to be anywhere else, Noahunzipped Lara’s makeup case and picked through it, pulling out an eyeliner pencil and a shimmery tray of eyeshadow. ‘What would you like?’ he asked.
