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“Tighter,” she whispered and felt his grip tighten.

Her fingers curled around his wrist and looked into his eyes. I took the leftover cheese, crackers, and wine back to the kitchen.There wasn’t much wine left, so I poured the remainder into my glass, then put the bottle in with the recyclables.Alice was still up, paintbrush in one hand, wine glass in the other. The canvas she’d been working on was a swirl of white colours, far too delicate to be so arresting.Alyssa stood in the doorway a while, watching the unsteady progress.

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