This Summer Will Be Different(32)

“Is Lana aware of your crush?” I ask, pointing between him and Bridget.

“Of course.” Zach claps his hands. “But it’s not a crush. Loving Bridget Clark is a lifestyle.”

“I can’t wait to meet her,” Bridget says. “Wolf said she’s a nurse?”

“Best one in Montreal,” Zach says. “But she’s coming out in September. Trial run. We’ll see if she still loves me after living with me for a month.”

“Of course she will,” Bridget says. “Hopefully the island wins her over. I don’t think many people from away can picture what it’s like to live here after Labor Day.”

Prince Edward Island is swarming with tourists in the summer, but just as people “from away” come and go with the warm weather, so do a lot of the businesses, which close for the off-season.

“It’s better after Labor Day,” Zach says, and Felix nods.

I pour Zach a drink while Felix begins lining up oysters on the counter. Zach is showing Bridget photos of his girlfriend.

“Can I help with anything?” I ask Felix. I will be the most normal, least thirsty version of myself around him, if it’s the last thing I do.

He glances at me. “Want to do the lemons? And grab the hot sauce from the cupboard?”

I’m slicing the citrus when Felix says, “You’re chaos with a blade.”

“Hey,” I say, pointing it in his direction. “I’ve improved. At least it’s not a steak knife.”

“You’ll take your fingers off. Do you remember how I showed you?” His voice is low, and it rasps from his lips to land right between my thighs.

I nod. “I can’t do it the way you do.”

“Like this.” His fingers curve over mine, and I hope he can’t tell that they’re shaking. “You need to protect yourself.” He adjusts my grip, then steps back, satisfied.

“Stop telling secrets over there.” That’s Bridget. “Wolf, are you ready or what? I’m hungry.”

He looks at me. “You’re on.”

As Clark tradition dictates, I’m the newest guest and am therefore assigned stopwatch duties. It’s a specific form of agony to stand directly across the kitchen island from Felix, staring at his fast hands, trying not to think about the other things they can undo. It’s cool this evening, but after the first round, I’m so overheated I have to strip off the fuzzy pink cardigan I’ve put on over my white sundress.

“You’ve lost your touch,” Zach says to Felix. “Two minutes and forty-five seconds? Pathetic.”

“Shouldn’t have had that whiskey,” Felix says. “Let’s go again.”

He’s halfway through the next batch, and Zach’s heckling so loudly I have no idea how Felix manages to better his time. “Two minutes and twenty-nine seconds,” I say.

Bridget pulls a face. “You’re out of practice.”

“Apparently.”

“And with added penalty time.” She clucks her tongue.

“Penalty time?” I ask.

Felix explains: “The judges add additional seconds onto your time for any mistakes, like if there are bits of shell or grit left behind.”

Bridget wiggles her fingers in Felix’s direction, and he hands her his knife. She bends close to the platter, narrowing her eyes as she studies the oysters. She pokes at each with the knife and wrinkles her nose.

“This one isn’t fully severed from the muscle,” Bridget says, peering up at Felix. “And there’s grit in two of them, some shell in another . . . So that’s twelve seconds of extra time for a total time of . . .” She points at Zach as if they’ve played this game many times before.

“Two minutes and forty-one seconds,” Zach says.

Felix runs his hand through his hair. “Not good enough.”

“What’s the goal?” I ask, realizing how little I know about this part of Felix’s life.

“One minute and thirty seconds. A minute forty, max.”

“If Wolf shucks them cleanly, that should get him in the top five,” Zach says.

Felix glances my way. “I’m very clean.”

I don’t know what it says about me, but I find these three words intensely sexual.

We finish the tray of oysters, and Felix pulls another box from the fridge, picks out eighteen, and arranges them on the wood surface. When he’s suitably pleased with his setup, he meets my eyes. He’s so focused on me, it’s like Bridget and Zach aren’t even in the room. He gives me a nod, and I count him down from three.

I can feel Zach watching me watch his best friend. Felix finishes the batch, and everyone breaks for another round of drinks and oysters. When Bridget steps outside with her phone and Felix excuses himself to the bathroom, Zach turns to me and says, “What’s the situation with you two?”

“What do you mean?”

He gives me a steely-eyed stare. He knows I’m full of crap.

“There’s no situation, Zach.”

“That’s what Wolf says, but I don’t think that’s true. You’re single. He’s single.”

I have to school my expression at this news. “How do you know I’m not seeing anyone?”

“I have my ways.” I lift my eyebrows. Zach shrugs, then says, “Bridget.”