Page 30 of Summer After Summer

“Let me.”

I turn my back to him, and he knots the plastic ties around my neck, letting his fingers trail along the bones in my neck. I shiver, though it’s not cold, and he leans forward, his breath tickling my skin. “Happy birthday, by the way.”

“Thank you.” My voice is high and squeaky, and I’m happy to see Colin coming back with four champagne glasses on a tray.

“How did you get those?” Sophie asks, giggling.

“I think they thought I was part of the waitstaff.”

“Oh god,” I say, “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not.” He passes out the glasses.

I’ve had champagne before—my father’s not that particular about the drinking age. But even he’ll be upset if Sophie turns up drunk later tonight.

“One glass,” I say to her. “I mean it.”

“Okay, Mom.”

“Not funny.”

“Sorry.” She raises her glass, and we all clink as they toast me happy birthday. Fred makes a face when he tastes his.

“Not good?”

He puts it down. “Not my thing.”

“And all this?” I motion to the Buffys and Biffs, decked out in pastel, scarfing down champagne while their lobster bibs flutter at their necks.

“I’m very happy to be here.”

“Me too. I mean, I’m happy you’re here.”

“Good.” He pushes his glass toward me. “Some extra for the birthday girl.”

“I bet they’d give you a beer.”

“It’s fine.” He takes my hand under the table, those slow circles again. I curl my toes in the sand. “So, how does this work?”

“I don’t know. This is my first date.”

Fred laughs. “I meant the dinner. Is it buffet or …?” He runs his finger along my inner arm. His touch feels electric. “But I’m honored.”

“I’m screwing this up.”

“Not at all.”

“They bring the lobsters out. There will be corn too.”

“Great.”

“God, look at her,” Sophie says, pointing across the sand to Charlotte. She’s sitting at a table with a man I don’t know, her hand on his shoulder, leaning toward him intimately.

“Who is that?” I ask.

“Wes Taylor.”

“What?” Colin says, laughing. “Your sister’s dating your cousin?”

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