Page 94 of Shipwrecked

“Me too.”

“I’m glad you went back for him.”

“I’ve been telling you both forever, but I am reliable too. You have to start believing me now.”

“I’ve never thought you were unreliable.”

That seems to catch Mathieu off guard. His lips press together, one of his dimples showing, even though he’s not smiling. “Good.”

“A little impulsive.”

“Quit while you’re ahead.” Both dimples flash.

I grin and follow his advice.

“You’re heading back to France?” I ask.

“For my parents’ sake, I’d better go home for a few weeks, at least. After that… I finished my degree, but I’m not like Jules. I haven’t applied for jobs yet.” He catches his lip between his teeth. “There’s a master’s I had my eye on in Dublin, Library Studies, but I’ve been delaying the decision because I also kind of want to go back to working in a stable. What about you?”

“I was in limbo just before this trip. I’m staying on Seán’s couch, so I’ll need to get on with finding a new place. My summers are filled with camps at the Wicklow Adventure Centre, so I’ll give them a ring once I’m back in Ireland and see what’s what.” The idea of going back to work seems unreal. Helping teenagers and kids with rock-climbing, mud-challenges, kayaking and gorge-walking… It seems so… “It feels anticlimactic,” I admit. “We were rescued, and I just feel…weird.”

“You were asleep for the climactic part,” Mathieu points out. “But I get what you mean. I could have done another week.”

I look at Mathieu like he’s crazy.

Mathieu shrugs. “I’m nervous now. Aren’t you? What if we”—he gestures between the three of us—“fade out?”

I decide I’ll do that thing Seán said people do before relationships, and risk the hurt. “I want it to work, so let’s make it work.”

Mathieu looks at me in surprise, then something more considering fills his eyes. “You didn’t answer when Jules asked. I know the timing wasn’t ideal for you, and I said I’d ask again when it was better, but I did wonder… Is it because you want to date just him?” His expression is unreadable.

“That isn’t it,” I say. “I didn’t answer because I was scared, not because I was unsure about us. I’ve never had a relationship that lasted longer than a few months. I don’t want to mess this up.”

Mathieu’s shoulders relax. “Me too.”

“And you? You don’t feel like I’m…butting in?”

Mathieu’s gaze slides over Jules, all the equipment that he’s hooked up to. His hand goes to his chest, where the blue quartz he gifted Jules hangs from his own neck. “You have this way of making me feel capable, and people usually make me feel the opposite of that. I told Jules I finally found my courage, but I actually think it’s you that makes me feel brave.”

My throat tightens. I look away from Mathieu and stare out the window. You make me feel brave is wildly different from pet boyfriend.

Mathieu clears his throat. “You’re very caring too, which I also like. And I like that I can be mean to you and you’re not a big baby about it.” His tone turns playful, and I can look back. His smile is soft. “I like you too, Cillian.”

“I think it would be impossible not to like you,” I tell him, dead serious.

◆◆◆

Mary and Charles leave for Ireland, as do Willow and Yasop. Mathieu is teaching me how to say what he claims means “I don’t like snakes” in French but which, based on the glee in his eyes, I’m well aware is something dirty.

Three days pass before Jules wakes up, mumbling, “Morning.”

I snap to attention. Lethargically, Jules reaches for his mask. I intervene before he hurts his hand. “You’re not supposed to grab anything. Here, I’ll get it.”

I already checked with the nurses, and we’re allowed to take it off. There are red marks on Jules’s face, indents of the equipment left behind. It’s a few minutes of bleary-eyed questions before real coherence fills Jules’s eyes.

He stares right at me. “Snake.”

“Mathieu has been trying to convince me that the French word for snake is ‘le membre’ for the past hour.”