Page 78 of The Slug Crystal
The sincerity in his voice catches me off guard. Ben usually hides behind humor and deflects with sarcasm. This unguarded moment feels more intimate than his flirtation ever has.
Before I can respond, Luca's voice breaks the spell. "Ben! Stop monopolizing our judge and get back to the competition! I've invented a new dive I'm calling 'The Italian Stallion.'"
Ben rolls his eyes dramatically but pushes away from my float with a wink. "Duty calls. Can't let the Italian show me up."
He swims away with powerful strokes, calling over his shoulder, "Watch this one, Emma. I'm dedicating it to you."
I smile despite myself, settling back on my float as Ben pulls himself from the pool once more. The sun warms my face, the water cradles my body, and for just this afternoon, I let myself believe that everything might turn out alright.
Monday, 12:07PM. Insomnia finds me at midnight. My body is tired, but my mind is racing with paths not taken and witches not found. I lie awake in the unfamiliar bedroom,moonlight spilling across the cool sheets, before finally surrendering to restlessness. The tiled floor whispers beneath my bare feet as I navigate the darkened villa, heading toward the kitchen in search of a snack or distraction or both.
The soft glow of a single pendant light guides me like a beacon, and I find I'm not the only one haunting the villa in the midnight hours. Ben stands at the granite island, wrestling with a corkscrew and a bottle of red wine, his profile cast in gold and shadow.
"Can't sleep either?" I ask, and he looks up, appearing slightly startled but mostly pleased, as if he'd been waiting for me all along.
"My brain won't shut up," he admits, finally conquering the cork with a satisfying pop. "Thought some more wine might help. Care to join me?"
The kitchen feels intimate in the limited light, despite its vastness. It’s a cavernous space of stone and tile made smaller by the limited circle of light from the single pendant. Pots hang from a rack overhead, catching occasional glints like subdued stars. The marble countertops reflect our movements in hazy, dreamlike echoes.
"I shouldn't," I say, even as I slide onto a barstool across from him. "But since we're both awake anyway..."
Ben's smile flashes in the dim light as he reaches for a second glass, pouring generously. His fingers brush mine as he passes the wine, a brief point of warmth that lingers longer than it should. The first sip blooms rich and velvety on my tongue, tasting of dark berries and something earthier.
"Expensive stuff," Ben comments, studying his glass. "Luca made us sample a bunch of wine earlier, while you were sleeping. His uncle has good taste." He looks up, catching my gaze. "Though that seems to run in the family."
The comment hangs between us, laden with meaning I'm not sure I'm ready to acknowledge. I take another sip instead of responding, letting the wine warm me from the inside out.
"So," Ben says after a moment, his voice lower than usual in the quiet kitchen. "Jake, Luca, Marco... and now me. You're collecting quite the group of admirers on this little adventure."
Heat rises to my cheeks, unexpected and unwelcome. "I'm not collecting anyone. I'm trying to fix Alex."
Ben's laugh is soft, without mockery. "I know. That's what makes it interesting." He moves around the island, glass in hand, to lean against the counter beside me. "You're not trying at all, and yet here we all are, orbiting around you like planets around a sun."
"That's ridiculous," I protest, but the wine makes the words less convincing than they should be. Ben is echoing the very thoughts I had a few days ago.
"Is it?" Ben takes another sip, his eyes never leaving mine. "Jake follows you like a faithful shadow. Luca shows off like a peacock whenever you're in sight. Even Marco, for all his scholarly detachment, can't keep his eyes off you when he thinks no one's watching."
"And you?" The question slips out before I can stop it, the wine loosening my tongue.
Ben sets his glass down, turning to face me fully. "Me? I'm just waiting for you to notice I've been here all along. Since day one of meeting you. I’m waiting for you to make your way back to me."
Something shifts in the air between us, a current of electricity that makes the hairs on my arms stand up. I should leave now. Go back to my room, back to the safety of solitude, back to worrying about Alex and Sarah and all the problems that brought us here. Instead, I take another sip of wine, holding Ben's gaze over the rim of my glass.
"I notice you," I say quietly, setting my glass on the countertop. "It's hard not to."
He moves closer, his body radiating heat in the cool stone kitchen. "And what exactly do you notice, Emma?"
Another full glass appears in my hand when I move to pick it up, though I don't remember finishing the first. The wine tastes better now, or maybe it's just that everything feels softer around the edges, more immediate and yet somehow distant at the same time.
"I notice how you always make everyone laugh, even when things are falling apart," I begin, surprising myself with the honesty. "How you're actually kind underneath all that sarcasm. How you watch people when you think they're not looking, figuring them out. How, after our first… encounter, you didn’t just turn into a jerk or bail. You stuck around to help. Brought in your cousin to help."
Ben steps closer still, close enough that I can smell the wine on his breath, the lingering chlorine from the pool on his skin. "What else?"
My throat feels suddenly dry. "I notice the way water runs down your back when you climb out of the pool. The way your eyes crinkle at the corners when you really smile. The way you look at me sometimes when you think I won't catch you."
His hand finds my waist, warm and steady. "And how do I look at you, Emma?"
"Like you're looking at me right now."
