The door opens. Eve steps through.
She's wearing a long black frock. A low-neckline. A chiffon skirt with a slit up to her thigh. And at the end of those long legs—
Heeled combat boots. The same as yesterday, with one change.
Teal laces.
Jasmine shoots me a knowing smile. One I recognize. One that means it's so sweet how much you adore your girlfriend. She turns to the entrance. Waves to Eve.
Eve nods back to Jasmine. Then me. Despite the nerves in her eyes, she moves with steady steps.
Jasmine stands as she approaches the table. Shep follows her lead.
They let me introduce them, shake, sit.
Eve takes the seat next to mine. She looks up at me with wide eyes. Asking for reassurance.
"I've told them a lot about you," I say. "Jasmine especially."
"It really is great to meet you." Jasmine fails to contain her enthusiasm. "Ian is… I've never seen him like this."
"In the three months you've known him?" Shepard asks.
"Three months is enough time to know someone," Jasmine says. "And I know Ian. He's one of my closest friends."
I hold up my drink.
She taps her glass against mine.
"Three months?" Eve looks to Jasmine. "How did you meet Ian?"
"A dinner with Shepard. After we were engaged." She doesn't add any details about the terms of their engagement. "It was a surprise, to know Shep had such a good friend. And one so handsome too."
"Ah, she remembered she's my wing woman," I tease.
Jasmine just smiles. "Yes, I'm supposed to talk about how great you are. So why is Shep here?"
"To talk about how much he can't stand me. Make it a challenge," I say.
Shep chuckles.
Eve's laugh is more awkward. She's still outside the circle. Unclear of the dynamic.
"Really though, I want to hear about you, Eve. Who cares about Ian? A British guy with all the money in the world. Been there, done that." Jasmine waves her hand dramatically, as if she could not possibly find me less interesting. "At least tell me how you get your hair that color. It's gorgeous."
"Thank you." Eve blushes at the attention. But there's something in her eyes. A confidence. "I have it down to a science."
"Would you do mine?" Jasmine asks.
"Princess, in what universe would you dye your hair green?" Shep asks.
"Let me fantasize." She keeps her eyes on Eve, even as Shep leans in to whisper something dirty. "He is right. I'd never change my hair. But maybe something like that." She motions to the tattoo on Eve's forearm. "When did you get it?"
"A little while ago," Eve says.
"You're old enough?" Shep asks.
Jasmine shoots him an oh my God, what are you doing look.
"See, he's here to bring me down." I chuckle, though it is a good question. "Where did you get all these tattoos?"
"I know a guy," she says.
My stomach twists at the thought of someone else touching her.
It's ridiculous, but there's no point in fighting it.
"Well, a girl." Eve laughs. "We were good friends in school. We still are, I guess. Just… too busy to hang out much."
"You should go. Get a tattoo with her," Jasmine says. "It's romantic."
"It's good work." I motion to Eve's tattoo. "Beautiful."
"Are we getting a couple's tattoo?" Her eyes meet mine. They light up with that curiosity. "What in the world does Ian Hunt want on his body forever?"
"Besides your hands?" I ask.
"Well, you…" She fights a blush. "You know what I mean. Lyrics to a song? A Latin quip? A lock and a key?"
"What would you want?" I ask.
"I don't know," she admits. "The lock and key maybe. But I want the key. All the power of the phallic symbol."
Is that all it is? Or does she want the power to unlock my heart?
"I can ask her to design something," Eve says. "She's great at taking a sliver of an idea and running with it."
She holds up her other arm. Turns it over to show off the tattoo on her wrist.
A EKG reading of a heartbeat.
Because of her sister's time in a hospital? Or something else?
I shouldn't know those details. I should wait until she offers them to me. It's not fair, taking them.
But I already have them.
I may as well hold them close.
Jasmine watches with interest. She turns to Shep with love in her eyes. "Would you get one with me?"
"If it was the right design," he says.
She smiles. That smile of pure, deep love. She leans in to kiss Shep.
For a moment, they're the only two people in the universe.
Then she pulls back. Turns to Eve. "Enough about us. Tell me about two things. Every step toward keeping your hair that amazing. And this." She motions to Eve's tattoo from The Handmaid's Tale. "The book or the show?"
"The book." Eve shakes her head with distaste. "The show is fine, but the book… it's perfect."
"It's been a long time since I've read it," Jasmine says. "What about it?"
Every last bit of tension fades from Eve's expression. Her eyes light up as she launches into a discussion of her favorite thing. She's bright, animated, moving her hands so fast she nearly knocks over my drink.
Exactly in her element.
Charming the pants off Jasmine. Impressing Shep.
Getting closer and closer to the key she needs to unlock me.
Jasmine and Eve carry the conversation. They're both lovers of literature, even if Jasmine is more partial to plays than novels.
They jump from one classic work to another. Then to more modern pieces. TV. Film.
Shep watches his wife with intense concentration. His blue eyes fill with love and wonder. Like she's the only thing in the universe he wants.
I don't order for Eve—I can tell she doesn't want my friends to see that—but I do point her to the dish she'll like best.
We talk through dessert. Tea. Shep promising to make use of Jasmine's extra energy.
Then goodbye.
The two of us, alone, on a warm summer night.
The air heavy with possibility.
Eve plays with her simple black purse. "I like your friends."
"Even Shep?"
She laughs. "I can tell he's a good friend. I'm glad you have that."
"Do I need it?"
She looks at me with all that curiosity in her grey-green eyes. There's something on the tip of her tongue, but she doesn't say it. "Don't you?"
It's more a statement than a question. Another brush of the key. Another look past my defenses.
I mean to dodge with a joke, but I don't.
"Yes." Lightness spreads through my chest. Then my limbs. Half freedom. Half fear.
I want her too much.
All of her.
I need something I understand. The only fucking thing I understand.
I let my voice drop to a demanding tone. "I need something else now."
She stares back at me.
"I need to make you come."