Chapter Three
Mathieu
Jules and Cillian disappear out of sight as I turn the corner with Darren. I should say I’ll bring Jules back to the room. Will that look like I’m trying to escalate things while he’s drunk? Would it be awkward and weird if I went back now, after already walking away?
“He’s fine.” Darren leans in close to be heard over the pounding music. “He can’t hold his drink, but he’s not usually sick.”
I’m twisting around, still staring at the corner even as we move further away.
It’s officially too late to go back. Dammit.
I should have kept my momentum and offered to bring him up.
It didn’t need to be weird, just a simple, “I’ll help him up”.
I missed the timing. I’m terrible. Either I act before I overthink, or it doesn’t happen at all.
We arrive at the table, where Darren ushers me into the booth ahead of him. I distractedly accept the shot he hands me. I press the cool rim of the glass to my lips. They’re still warm.
Being the seventh wheel on a trip with three couples initially sounded like one of the circles of hell, but now I’ve kissed Jules, copped a very intimate feel, and invited the hot guide he’d been eyeing up to fuck him with me… All that pacing before getting on the plane was worth it.
Darren says something that’s lost in the music. I put my empty shot glass onto the table with the others. Someone whoops just as Darren repeats himself, and I miss it again. Shoot.
“I’m glad you guys invited me,” I say.
Darren smiles. His attention lingers, and I reach for another shot glass, pretending I don’t notice it.
I wish I hadn’t noticed the want in his gaze.
Still, there’s an upside to that hand skimming my ass on the dance floor.
Before that, I thought Jules and Darren were only fighting, not broken up.
My heart’s still soaring. Here’s my chance.
In the hall, when Jules’s gaze slipped from my dimples to my mouth…
God. He was watching my lips as I talked.
Having the guy I’ve been crushing on hard all year—the guy who can enter any social situation with ease and confidence—suddenly look at me like that…
What on earth was I meant to do but kiss him?
Cillian seemed to agree that something was to be done with him. The heat in his eyes promised a good time, as did the large, hard cock digging into the back of my hand. I shift uncomfortably, hand creeping across my thigh.
“What are you going to do after the trip?” Darren asks. “Back to France, or will you be sticking around in Ireland?”
The ridge of the condom I slipped into my back pocket presses conspicuously into my skin. My pulse kicks at how close that impulse came to ending in drunk, reckless fucking. My fingers curl into the fabric of my shorts.
“France for the summer,” I say. The exits are on the far side of the room.
I haven’t seen Cillian or Jules go through the doors yet.
“After that, I don’t know.” There’s what I want to do, which is to continue my education in Ireland, and what I’m likely to do.
“Likely” is I’ll return to my family and friends in France for ease and comfort.
Retreat into a shell too rigid for growth.
Darren nods. “Right? That’s the way it should be. You can not know and decide later. Not everything needs to be planned. Here, have another one.” He places another shot glass in front of me.
I take my hand off my thigh, setting it firmly on the seat next to me.
“I do make plans,” I say. “I’m not an airhead.”
The plan is to figure out how to make returning to Ireland an impulsive, last-minute decision. Then I’ll do it. If it’s something that I have time to stew and stress about… My stomach clenches.
Stop thinking!
“What about you?” I ask.
“I’m not in a hurry to settle down,” Darren says. “I want to take time off. Do some travelling. I haven’t visited Europe much. Where in France do you recommend?”
“Anywhere in the south,” I say. I move over so Darren has room to drink without brushing against me every time he raises his arm. “Do you know what Jules is doing?”
Darren takes a long draw from his cider. Behind him, staff members are snapping pictures of Mary and Willow. “I know what he said before we broke up. But…”
“You broke up on bad terms?”
“No,” Darren says, an edge in his voice. “Nothing like that. He’s a lot to handle. He’s fussy about everything, and I don’t know if it’s anxiety or control issues, but he just won’t relax. It’s exhausting.”
I lean back, clutching my glass. Condensation clings to my fingers. Was that a hidden stab at me?
“That’s why I like hanging out with you so much,” Darren continues. “You’re chilled out and sweet.”
Oh. Apparently I’m still convincing.
“Are you guys in for another round?” Charles asks, gathering the empty glasses. “All on the beautiful champion here.” He kisses Mary’s cheek.
“Sure,” Darren says. “More shots?”
At the end of the night, I slip upstairs with Mary and Charles, talking to them passionately about God knows what until I’m at my room, where I dart inside and shut the door before Darren has a chance to try to kiss me.
I throw myself onto the bed, the ceiling hurtling above me. I hold tight to the memory of Jules kissing me back.