Chapter 11

Sienna

Joe clearly thinks I haven’t noticed he’s dodged my relationship question; he thinks he’s gotten away with it.

But he

hasn’t

. I one hundred per cent knew what he was doing when he distracted me, I could tell he was stalling and was unwilling to give me any information about his love life.

Fair enough, that’s his perogative not to share with a girl he barely knows. I

get

it.

I would like to know for sure that he’s single, though. Despite what Kate told me earlier, I keep thinking he’s possibly in a relationship, but maybe one of those ones that would be described as “It’s complicated” on Facebook. Maybe it’s new, maybe it’s a secret. Or maybe they’re “on a break”.

Look, I don’t want to know for my own ulterior motives. (Don’t shake your head at my delusion, please!) I just want to be sure there’s not some girl somewhere who would be unhappy that he’s currently spending his time with another girl. I’ve always been a girls’ girl through and through, and I’d

hate

to be in that situation myself. And with that thought in mind . . .

“Are you single?” I ask abruptly. We’re nearly at Fiskardo, and we’ve been quiet for the past ten minutes or so. And I

need

to know.

“Yes,” Joe replies without hesitation. He doesn’t even seem surprised that I asked.

“Good.” I feel myself blushing. “Sorry, I just realised I would have felt really uncomfortable if you had an other half and were still helping me out like this.”

“In the nicest possible way,” he says, keeping his eyes straight on the road. “I wouldn’t have been comfortable with that either, and if I did have a girlfriend who wasn’t here, I wouldn’t have suggested this arrangement.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” My voice sounds strange to my own ears.

“Like I said before, though, you have nothing to worry about with me. This is strictly platonic.”

His voice is gentle, and his words are tactful, but he looks pissed off. The dimples are virtually nonexistent, his chiselled face hard, his lips set in a straight line.

“Of course.” I clear my throat and rub my face uneasily. I’ve made things awkward. And forced him to remind me, once again, that he’s not interested in me.

We pull up in Fiskardo in silence again, although it’s less comfortable, less companionable than it was before. I think Joe senses I’m a bit hurt as when we walk away from the car, he throws an arm over my shoulder and hugs me to him briefly. It’s the first proper physical contact we’ve had since we first met, I realise.

“Listen, I’m sorry if I came across a bit blunt there,” he says softly into the side of my head. “I was concentrating on the road, and I’m a guy – you know what we’re like at multi-tasking.” His warm breath tickles my ear, and despite the temperature being in the mid-twenties, I struggle not to shiver.

I also force myself not to point out that he was multi-tasking fine when the conversation wasn’t quite as loaded. But I resolve to myself to keep it light from now on.

“Don’t worry about it,” I say breezily, glancing up into those dark-lashed green eyes and trying for a carefree smile. I’m not sure it quite makes the grade, but it’s a relatively decent effort, perhaps worthy of a C+.

I extricate myself from his arm and step away. I’ve known the guy for less than 24 hours, I don’t know anything about him, I remind myself furiously. And he seems kinda reluctant to tell me too much.

“How about we have a drink first, then have a wander?” He suggests. A drink sounds like heaven right now. Maybe I’ll even have

two

.

He’s

the one driving after all.

We find a restaurant next to the harbour and order drinks. I thought he might get a beer, but he sticks to a Coke. I, of course, opt for a wine. We’re back to relatively relaxed silence again, even though we’ve both discovered neither of us have any Internet signal on our phones. But we’re happy to people-watch. It’s not even quite midday yet (don’t judge my wine, I’m on holiday, okay?) but the small harbour area is already bustling with tourists.

“It’s nice here,” Joe says finally. “I’ve read reviews that say it’s a bit overrated, but I’m glad we came.”

“Me too.” I nod. I watch people pass us – in groups, in pairs, alone – hearing snippets of different languages in short bursts. “Do you ever think about all the people in the world that you’ll never meet?” I ask, almost thinking out loud. “Like, all these people walking by, they all have their own lives, and we know nothing about their stories, and probably never will?”

Joe doesn’t reply, and when I look around at him, I am surprised to see him watching me with a crooked smile on his face, his eyes soft and crinkling around the edges. “Do you literally just say whatever is on your mind all the time?” He asks quietly, a hint of laughter in his voice.

“I’ve been told on more than one occasion that I have no filter,” I admit, blushing at his close scrutiny.

What I don’t confess, however, is the fact that I’m only like this with a select group of people. Usually people who have known me a long time, like Kate, or my family, perhaps a few of my more likeable colleagues.

I’m not sure why or how Joe has already managed to slot himself into this category. Usually, I’d be more likely to clam up around a handsome bloke than turn off my filter.

So maybe it’s for the best that he’s not interested in me. Because God only knows what my

next

unfiltered monologue will be about.

Chapter 12

Joe

Sienna definitely intrigues me.

Sometimes, I think she’s rooting about inside my head because she almost voiced

exactly

what I was just thinking about.

Of course, my thoughts had headed off in a slightly different tangent. I, too, had been thinking how many people in the world I’d never meet . . . But then, considering for the first time how weird it is that fate completely determines who of those strangers you do meet.

Okay, you can make the decision to walk up to someone in a bar and start talking to them. But what made you end up in that bar? In that town, in that country? What caused that other person to be there, too?

And so, my mind had drifted, and I thought of all the factors that could have prevented me from sitting here, now, opposite Sienna.

If she hadn’t been dumped, for example. Or if I hadn’t suggested to my brother we go on holiday, in an apparently misguided attempt to bond with him.

If we hadn’t chosen the same flight, resort, or apartment complex.

If Jack and Kate hadn’t decided to hook up and abandoned us both.

Or even if Sienna hadn’t decided to approach me at the bar yesterday.

Where would I be right now?

There’s a chance I could have hired a car anyway and be sitting here in Fiskardo, but Sienna wouldn’t be with me. Maybe she’d still be stewing alone. Maybe Kate would be with her. Or maybe she’d have found someone

else

to be her holiday buddy?

I mean, I know the film “Sliding Doors” isn’t exactly dripping in Academy Awards, but it makes a thought-provoking point, doesn’t it? (And to be fair, it’s actually not a bad film. There. I said it.)

When you ask most couples or even friends how they met, it’s all ultimately down to chance. Timelines matching up somehow. It’s scary how many strangers could have been in your life and become something more, but due to a shift in fate, they never will.

And sometimes, like in this case, everything is right apart from the unfortunate timing of it all.

Anyway, I was getting all profound, thinking this as we sat there, Sienna had spoken. Actually out loud, unlike me. My thoughts are far too muddled to enunciate clearly. Which is a bit ironic given that my fucking livelihood depends on me being able to do just that.

I stand and throw money down on top of the bill. “Shall we go?” I ask briskly. I could do with a proper drink, to be honest, but I really need to keep my wits about me for driving these unfamiliar roads. I’ll make up for that later.

She hurries after me. “That reminds me, I owe you money,” she says breathlessly. “You paid for dinner last night and for the car too.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The one issue I definitely

don’t

have is money.

“Okay, then I’ll pay dinner tonight then,” she insists.

Fine

. I nod, accepting her offer.

We briefly wander around Fiskardo before we head back to the car. It’s definitely a beautiful little village. “I’d love to return,” Sienna says dreamily. “Stay in one of those buildings overlooking the beach with the loungers next to the sea.” I can almost feel her longing for it, and I’m shocked at myself that

I’m

wishing to return and stay there too.

With

her.

I suspect I’m in big trouble.

“Where now?” She asks, breaking into my thoughts again.

“You’ll see.”

About 40 minutes later I’m directing the car down a steep, twisting, winding road and Sienna is gasping at the beach in front of us. “Oh my god, it’s amazing!” She cries. Myrtos Beach is covered in small white pebbles and the waves rolling in seem to be bright blue. As soon as I park, she grabs her beach bag and runs out of the car without a word. I think she might have forgotten I’m here.

I’m reaching for my own beach stuff when I remember Sienna’s question about my birthday number one. I squint quickly at my phone and I actually seem to have a signal so I slip my glasses on and load up Wikipedia. It doesn’t take me long to find the song that was number one the week I was born.

“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter to myself.

How

fucking fitting.

I toss my glasses on the dashboard and follow Sienna onto the beach.

She’s already laid out her towel and secured the sides of it down with her bottle of suncream, her Kindle, her sunglasses and one sandal in each corner to stop it flying away. She’s now in the process of removing her other sandal and wriggling out of her dress. I’m trying hard not to watch as I start spreading my own towel now but I can’t help myself.

Obviously I’ve already witnessed her in a bikini at the pool; but it means I already know she has a banging body and it makes me want to look even more at how hot she is in that bright pink bikini. She catches me, and I’m surprised to see her lips curl into a pleased smile as she glances quickly away again.

It seems she likes me looking at her.

She walks towards the water and I hastily remove my shirt so I can follow. I want to stay close to her.

The more time I spend with Sienna, the more my resolve weakens. I keep telling her it’s strictly platonic but I really don’t want it to be.

And I’m pretty sure she feels it too.

Chapter 13

Sienna

A few hours later, I’m back in my apartment and showering before dinner. And I’m also dwelling very much on the fact that Joe and I had another moment on Myrtos Beach while we were playing about in the sea.

We were having a bit of a playfight, splashing each other, and it got a bit . . .

Touchy-feely

, shall we say. He’d managed to grab both my hands to stop me cupping more seawater to throw at him and we were a bit too close together, and suddenly that easy smile of his slid right off his lips and we were just staring into each other’s eyes like there was no one else in the world.

God, I have

never

had a moment like that in my life. It was like something out of a movie. I genuinely thought we were going to kiss. I could hardly even breathe in those few seconds. What a walking, talking, barely-breathing cliché I am.

Then a kid on the beach screamed, and the spell was broken. Joe laughed, let go of my hands, and ducked under the water completely for a few seconds while I walked back to my towel. Glaring at the snivelling little bastard who had ruined the moment.

We didn’t talk about what nearly happened, even when we were both dry again and back in the car. But it wasn’t awkward or anything. Far from it. We swung between companionable silence and chatting away like old friends. Which is still weird to me when, in actuality, we’ve only been acquainted for 24 hours, and I’ve never been good at small talk with virtual strangers. And, actually, I still don’t really know that much about him.

I realise, however, that we have spent most of those 24 hours together and have effectively already gone on several dates, platonic or otherwise. We’re definitely past that all-important third date, that’s for sure.

I roughly blow-dry my chin-length bob, slip on a lemon coloured sundress, and carefully do my make-up. Am I trying to impress him? Abso-fucking-lutely. I

want

him to eat his heart out. Rue the exact moment he decided

not

to just smash his lips onto mine. I paint my lips bright red, apparently just to emphasise my point.

It makes me angry with myself how much I already fancy the guy. Although I definitely haven’t thought about Greg for nearly a full day, so every cloud and all that.

When I head down to the bar, he’s already there, chatting away to the barman/receptionist, Andreas. Joe seems to be able to charm everyone when he puts his mind to it.

I stop for a moment to admire him before he spots me. It’s a bit cooler tonight than it has been, and he’s wearing faded jeans and a white shirt with the sleeves pushed up, revealing toned forearms. Those are very good forearms. He clearly hasn’t shaved for a couple of days, and the scruff running along his sharp jawline definitely works for him. He’s also obviously one of the lucky folk who tan virtually within seconds of being exposed to sunshine. I find myself staring down at my much paler skin with disappointment. I

am

tanned but nowhere near as golden as Joe.

He glances up at me then, and his eyes narrow slightly as he takes me in from head to toe. It’s weird, I felt less naked when he looked at me in my bikini earlier. That look was admiring, but this one is . . .

Something else entirely

. His gaze is burning into me, through my clothes. His

eyes

. . .

Well, there’s no disguising the lust in them. He is practically smouldering. For all his chat, I’m still provoking a physical reaction in him, and this makes me strangely satisfied. Even if he doesn’t intend to touch me, I get comfort from knowing that he clearly

wants

to.

And with that thought, the naughtier side of my personality comes out to play, and I can feel my red lips curving up into a smile. I’m going to have some fun with this.

I blame the lipstick.

By the time I’ve walked over to him, he’s composed himself. “Nice dress.” He manages a smile, his voice husky. “Want a drink?”

“I’ll have a gin and tonic,” I tell Andreas. I slip onto the barstool beside Joe, leaning close and taking a deep inhale. “You smell so good,” I tell him. He really does. I make sure I’m still close when I speak so that my breath catches his flesh.

He’s flustered; I can tell by the way his own breath hitches. I feel myself smirking as Andreas passes me my drink. I pop a straw into it. “I feel much better after having a shower,” I sigh, lifting my glass up and sucking up a significant amount of refreshing liquid through the straw. “I felt like I’d got sand

everywhere

, you know? It took so long to wash it all off my body.”

He swallows. I’m pretty sure he’s now thinking about me in the shower, which was absolutely my intention, of course. “Yeah, I know what you mean,” he manages. Quite the wordsmith, is our Joe. “I was the same.”

Damn, now I’m imagining

him

in the shower.

Shake it off, Sienna.

I smile and suck sharply on my straw again. He’s staring at my lips, realises what he is doing, and quickly averts his gaze. Wow, I thought he’d be smoother than this. “How about a game of pool before we head to dinner?” I suggest, sliding down from the stool, drink in hand.

“Sure.” Joe follows me to the table and watches me set up the balls. He pulls a coin out of his pocket. “Heads or tails?” He asks me.

“Tails,” I say confidently.

I edge closer to him as he tosses the coin in the air. When he reveals the outcome on his hand, I lean forward and lightly grip his wrist as if I’m pretending to view it closely. “It’s tails.” I state the obvious, tapping the coin, then gently running my finger along his hand as I pull away. His eyes widen at my touch.

“Looks like it’s my break then,” I smile, walking away to the other end of the table. Almost unconsciously, I’ve added a bit of extra sway to my hips as I walk. I hope he appreciates it as it’s

one hundred per cent

for his benefit.

I line up my shot, completely aware of him watching me. “Ready for me to whip your arse?” I ask, unable to resist winking at him.

“You wish,” he jokes, but that heat is back in his eyes again.

Gotcha

, I think to myself.

And then I send the cue ball flying into the other balls.

Let’s play.

Chapter 14

Joe

I’m not entirely sure what Sienna’s playing at – apart from pool, obviously – but she has definitely upped the stakes tonight. And I’m losing against her. Both at pool, and at whatever this

other

game is.

I thought I was attracted to the cute, funny babbler who just says whatever the fuck is on her mind, cries at the drop of a hat, and looks fantastic in a bikini. But this has nothing on the goddess that has turned up tonight and appears to be doing her best to push every single one of my buttons. The fact that both of these personalities co-exist in the same petite blonde package is blowing me away.

She has potted all of her balls now and is onto the black. I’m normally decent at pool but I cannot concentrate at all on this game. I can’t think why . . .

She’s chalking up her cue but she’s paying no attention to what she’s doing. Instead she’s staring directly at me, her gaze bold and unapologetic. She licks her lips, slowly and deliberately. That red lipstick is

killing

me.

“Prepared to lose?” she taunts. I can only shrug helplessly as she leans forward and sinks the black apparently as effortlessly as she’s destroyed all my defences.

I want her so badly I’m shaking.

She walks towards me, hand extended. “Good game,” she says coolly. “For me, that is.” Her small hand slips into mine to shake it, her eyes challenging me.

Good god

, I almost lean in at that point, for the second time today almost kiss her.

But she pulls her hand away, picks up her drink and polishes it off. When she turns back around it’s like her seductress personality never existed. “Dinner time?” She asks, raising her eyebrows at me questioningly. “I’m absolutely starving.”

So am I, I think. But not for food anymore.

The babbler has returned with a vengeance as we walk down towards the strip. “What do you feel like eating?” she asks. “Something traditional or something else? I think I saw a pizza place, and there’s a diner too. Although I really could go some more baked feta.”

“What is it with you and baked feta?” I ask curiously, laughing. In the 24 hours we’ve been acquainted, baked feta has been mentioned at least 5 or 6 times.

She smiles, slightly embarrassed. “I just really like cheese.”

She’s just so fucking

sweet

. It doesn’t matter whether she’s talking about dairy products or trying deliberately to turn me on . . . Actually, she doesn’t need to even

try

now, I’m too far gone. I turn away from her, swallowing a groan of frustration, and drag my hand down my face.

I need to cool down; I could seriously do with a cold shower right about now. And I had one already, less than an hour ago, trying to rid myself of the memory of that near-miss kiss in the sea earlier.

I hadn’t known whether to be relieved or exasperated when that kid had screamed. I’d opted for a mixture of both emotions, telling myself it was for the best on one hand, while having to remain in the sea for a bit until I had – how should I put it? –

visibly calmed down

.

By the time I got back to my towel, Sienna was acting like nothing had happened, and I’m pretty sure she started talking about baked feta again, so there didn’t feel any point in trying to broach the subject.

And how many times can I bring out that fucking platonic speech anyway? Especially when I keep contradicting it with my own actions.

In the short space of 24 hours this girl has

wrecked

me.

Although to be fair, if I’m being really honest, for me this has been building since I first saw Sienna on that airport transfer bus. Long before I even knew the slightest thing about her.

I remember the looks I’d covertly shot her at the bar later that same night; the feeling of intense disappointment when she left without even a glance towards me when I felt such a magnetic pull towards her.

Noticing her in the bar alone the following night, and then again last night.

I had been fully,

painfully

, aware of her presence on all of those occasions, but I hadn’t approached her because I think, deep down, I knew she was going to test me to my limits.

And that’s probably why, when she approached me, I had no choice but to offer to keep her company because I had been already thinking about her,

wanting

her, since the first moment I saw her.

I’m so tired of fighting my attraction to her.

“You okay?” Sienna asks. I drag myself back to the present and realise I’ve not yet responded to her cheese comment.

“Um, yeah. Just thinking how hard you’re making it to resist trying baked feta for myself.” I joke.

But, obviously, that’s not all I’m finding difficult to resist.

Chapter 15

Sienna

Readers, it’s safe to say I shat it.

That red lipstick has a lot to answer for. I became a different person while playing that pool game. I was fucking shameless. I made it perfectly clear, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I was more than a little into Joe.

And, even better, I had absolutely no doubt that the feeling was mutual. In those few minutes, I knew he would probably do whatever I wanted, no questions asked. I was winning the game.

I held all the cards. I had all the power.

But as I shook Joe’s hand, stared intently into those bright green eyes again, I realised I had no idea what the rules of the game were. I had no idea what to do next.

I simply had no game. And I got scared.

What did I even want to happen here? Yesterday morning I was still mourning my past relationship and today I was already moving on? Did I really want a holiday fling? Would that just make things even harder for me?

Half of me was fantasising about the idea of Joe just throwing me, caveman style, on that pool table and having his wicked way with me, while the other half was already realising how hard it could be to get over him if that did happen.

Maybe the moments of anticipation are better than the follow-through. Maybe I need to protect myself and see this as just a flirtation and nothing more.

And, yes, maybe I need to stop overthinking every bloody thing.

I laugh inwardly at the very idea of the flirtation turning into anything long-term as I glance across the table at Joe. Glasses now back in place, he’s studying the menu and I can’t help but marvel at his hotness once again. This is not a guy I can picture wanting to chill out and binge watch my sitcoms with me on my lumpy sofa. He belongs on red carpets, at nightclub openings, film premieres, after-parties.

He must feel my eyes on him because he glances up at me. “What?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. Surely he

must

know how sexy that eyebrow quirk is?

“I was just wondering if you watch TV,” I blurt out honestly. Then want to smack myself in the head.

He laughs, puzzled. “Why wouldn’t I?”

I shrug, knowing I’m blushing. He has no idea what’s going on inside my brain right now. “What shows do you watch?” I quickly follow-up.

It’s his turn to shrug. “Lots of stuff. Mostly comedy.” Right answer. And it’s provided me with a nice, easy topic of conversation that doesn’t involve me trying to badly seduce him again.

The waitress appears then so after we have ordered we start to talk about our favourite sitcoms. It turns out he also likes my beloved Modern Family, and we also have shared love of The Office (both the American and British versions), Brooklyn Nine Nine, and Parks & Rec. He convinces me to try The Book Group and Spaced, while I urge him to give Schitt’s Creek a second chance. We both vehemently agree that Everyone Loves Raymond is a turd, with King of Queens coming a close second for the boobie prize.

Over starters and white wine, we discuss favourite Friends episodes – his is the one with Ross’ leather trousers and mine is the one with Ross’ fake tan. We agree, once again vehemently, that Ross is the best character.

“He makes a lot of silly mistakes,” Joe says at one point. He grimaces, pushing his glasses up. “I can identify.” Then he changes the subject before I can query this any further. “You were right about the baked feta – it was amazing.”

“See, don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it. Always good to try new things,” I say lightly.

His eyes flicker up, holding my gaze, and I feel my breath catch in my throat. “I’m definitely out of my comfort zone,” he says softly. His eyes are suddenly burning into mine before he glances away, almost shyly.

My insides are humming with lust. I know he’s not talking about cheese anymore.

That loaded silence looms up again; only a few seconds, but it feels like minutes.

He sighs, pulling off his glasses. “I’m not imagining this, am I?” He asks quietly, deliberately not looking at me. “There’s something here between us. It’s not just me, right?”

I inhale sharply. “No. It’s not just you,” I manage finally. Those green eyes latch back onto my face, and, once again, I see the heat in them. I feel a shiver of desire run through me.

The moment is interrupted by the waitress bringing us our main courses. “Can I get you anything else?” She asks, her eyes lingering flirtatiously on Joe. She’s pretty. I want to punch her.

He shakes his head. “No,” he says tersely. “Thanks.” She nods, clearly disappointed, and leaves us alone again.

“So this looks great,” I say brightly, looking down at my plate. Wondering where my appetite has gone. I start cutting up my meat and pop a bit of potato in my mouth. Try to ignore the fact that Joe is still watching me. I can feel the frustration emanating off him.

“Sienna . . .” His voice sounds pained.

“We should probably talk about this later,” I interject, looking back up at him. “In private.” Despite the fact that our voices are low, I’ve noticed that the couple at the next table were half-listening to our Friends-related conversation, and I don’t think it’s the best idea to have a conversation about our mutual attraction while they’re still sitting there.

“Okay.” He nods, apologetically, flicking a glance at the couple. So he clearly has his suspicions, too.

“In the meantime, though,” I say. “Maybe you could tell me a bit more about yourself. Because I feel like you’ve not really given me anything so far.”

He hesitates. “Alright,” he says eventually. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

I smile. “Good.”

Time to get to the bottom of who Joe – oh, for heaven’s sake, I don’t even know his bloody

surname

! – really is…

Chapter 16

Joe

God, I’m shitting a brick here. I have no idea what she’s going to ask, and that

terrifies

me. But if I want anything to happen here, I’m going to have to go along with this.

And I

do

want something to happen.

“Okay, first up: what’s your surname?” She asks.

That’s easy; I can do this one. I don’t think she’ll recognise me immediately from that. “Quinn.”

She nods. “Cool. Mine is Norton.” She makes a self-mocking face. “Maybe I’m a bit old fashioned, but usually I like to know a guy’s full name before I even

consider

heading off in cars with them. I really should have checked that sooner in case you were a serial killer or something.”

“Fair enough.”

“What do you do for a living?” This is her next question.

Once again, easy enough to answer, but it

could

raise her suspicions. “I’m a freelance journalist.” I want to gloss over this one, though. I add hurriedly. “You?”

She waves a hand dismissively. “I work in HR. Pretty dull. I definitely work to live; I don’t live to work.” Her eyes light up suddenly, as if something has struck her. I’ll welcome

anything

that changes the subject. “Have you looked up your birthday number one yet?”

I nod. “It’s ‘Respectable’ by Mel and Kim,” I tell her reluctantly.

She, of course, immediately starts singing the chorus – “we are never going to be respectable” – while I cringe again at the song choice that according to Sienna Norton, self-proclaimed birthday number one specialist, could say a lot about me.

She of course doesn’t realise the irony of it, given she knows fuck all about my past. She’s now looking thoughtful; I guess doing calculations in her head. “’87, right?”

I grin. “I’m not that old,” I joke.

“

Nineteen

eighty seven.” She narrows her eyes at me. “Yes?”

“You got me,” I reply, holding up my hands.

“We’re the same age then, give or take,” she smiles. “I’m 34, I think you’ll already be 35?”

“You’re good,” I admit.

“Yep, when I actually get it right I’m quite impressed with myself,” she laughs. She pushes her chair back. “And now I’ve impressed you, I need to pop to the loo.” She winks at me and wanders off in search of the bathroom.

The couple at the next table are getting ready to make a move. The guy hesitates as he passes the table and then stops completely.

“Sorry, man, this is so not cool of me, but I just wanted to say I’m a massive fan,” he says. “Your book has always been one of my favourites.”

I look blankly at him. It’s been a long time since I’ve been recognised. But he seems convinced he knows who I am.

I give in. “Thanks, that means a lot,” I say. And it does.

So here’s my big secret. Well, a

part

of it . . .

Once upon a time, so long ago now that it feels like it must have been another lifetime, I wrote a book. Which got published. And sold a lot of copies.

At the tender age of 21, I was a bestselling author. And I also found myself with the 15 minutes of fame that went along with it. In fact, I probably got way more than 15 minutes and I don’t think I deserved that at

all

.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s always nice hearing praise for the book. It was something I put a lot of work into, something I channelled my loneliness into when I felt like I had nothing else. It’s just the other stuff, that ended up going hand-in-hand with it all, that I wish I could forget.

Because I definitely let that temporary fame go to my head for a while, started to believe my own hype. Made a few mistakes along the way.

Some of which were in the public eye.

I wince at the memory.

“So, I have to ask, did you ever see any of those girls again after . . . ?” My new pal asks me, as if reading my mind, viewing my own memories.

I don’t want to have to remember this shit again. But I smile ruefully and shake my head, cutting off the end of his question as politely as I can.

“Nope, never again. Which I completely deserved.”

“Shame,” he says. “That Leesa girl was hot.” He holds out a hand. “Anyway, it was good to meet you.”

He leaves and I look up to see Sienna walking back towards the table, looking puzzled. “What was that all about?” She asks. “Was he apologising for them eavesdropping?”

I laugh, but it’s forced. “Something like that,” I say lightly.

She lowers herself into her chair. Suspicion flickers in her eyes but she can’t prove anything so it doesn’t have anywhere to go. She picks up her fork again. “So whereabouts in Glasgow do you live?” She continues her questioning.

“Southside. Shawlands, actually.”

“What a weird coincidence, me too.” It turns out we only live three streets apart. “Your bit is a lot fancier than mine though,” she comments. “You either must have won the lottery or be really good at your job.”

“Well, I definitely didn’t win the lottery,” I shrug.

Sienna watches me speculatively again, obviously trying to decide what she wants to ask next. Every time it makes me nervous.

“What were you like when you were younger?” She asks finally. “At school?”

“What do you

think

I would have been like?” I can’t help but ask in return. Somehow eager to see if her expectation meets reality. I’m fairly sure it won’t.

She laughs. “I find it hard to imagine folk I’ve met only as adults as kids, don’t you?” She takes a sip of wine. “I can only imagine you being like the way you are now, only 20 years younger. Probably cute though, rather than handsome. Maybe you hadn’t quite grown into your looks yet. But confident. Friendly. Popular.” She smiles bashfully. “I feel like I probably would have had a massive crush on you.”

I can’t help but snort at her many assumptions, although her last comment warms me. “I wasn’t popular, and I

certainly

wasn’t friendly,” I reply. I try to keep the edge of bitterness out of my voice, attempt to keep my voice light. “I was definitely a nerd, although I didn’t have the glasses back then. I was arrogant. And I was angry all the time.”

She actually giggles at that, and the sound of it actually soothes me slightly. I don’t think she meant to though, and she makes an apologetic face immediately. “Suddenly, teen you has just became even more attractive. I was always partial to a weirdo… I probably wouldn’t have admitted

that

crush to my friends though.” She hesitates. “

Why

were you so angry though?”

I shrug, looking away. “My parents were never happy. They took it out on us a lot, me and Jack, I think they’d thought having kids would make them complete somehow. Then it didn’t and

that

was our fault too. Jack was always more popular than me; I don’t think it bothered him as much because he just distracted himself with his friends. I was more sensitive and took it more personally. It’s . . .” I bite my lip, take a deep breath before I continue: “It’s not nice feeling like your parents didn’t really want you.”

Her eyes soften and well up. She reaches over and puts a warm hand on top of mine. “That really sucks, Joe,” she whispers. “I’m sorry they made you feel that way.”

I’ve never told anyone this before. Not someone who wasn’t a mental health professional, anyway. Me and

Jack

don’t even talk about it- not that we’re particularly close. I don’t know why I’ve chosen to open up to Sienna.

I think she senses I’m done with baring my soul for now though. “Let me get the bill,” she says. “I did promise to pay for once, after all.”

After she’s paid, we stand up and walk back out onto the street. It’s dark now, and fairly quiet, what with it being relatively early on in the season. We’ve been walking, both in silence, for a couple of minutes, before I realise something.

At some point, since leaving the restaurant, I’ve slid my hand into hers.

Chapter 17

Sienna

Holy crap, Joe’s holding my hand!

We’ve held hands before, mostly to tow each other other along when one of us is dawdling, though. This is not, I repeat,

not

the same thing.

Somewhere outside the restaurant, I felt his fingers brush mine briefly before they laced with mine. I stifled a gasp. It seemed he wasn’t even aware of doing it.

But there it was.

I actually feel the moment he realises as his steps falter for a moment, and his grip loosens ever so slightly. I can feel him glance down in the direction of our intertwined hands. Then he takes a deep, shaky intake of breath, and his hold tightens again. I feel myself relax, realising my own breath had paused again while I waited to see what his reaction would be.

Something has irrevocably changed in our relationship this evening. What with my intentional flirting earlier, the acknowledgement that we were both feeling . . .

feelings

, and then him telling me things I feel sure he rarely speaks about, we’re

definitely

more than just holiday buddies now.

The question is, what are we going to

do

about it?

We pass the last building on the strip before we have to turn off for the path up to the apartments. The silence between us is so heavy now, and I need to say something, I

need

to break it. I’m feeling dizzy with anticipation. And slightly terrified at the weight of my feelings.

“That was a nice restaurant, wasn’t it? I’d definitely go back. The baked fe- . . .”

“Sienna,” he interrupts me. He stops walking, and I glance at him in surprise. His eyes are dark and heavy-lidded, and his handsome face is completely serious. The dim light is catching his angular features, and I can feel my insides liquidising with want.

“What?” I ask breathlessly. I can’t look away as Joe swings me around and pushes me up against the wall, his body inches from mine.

A slow, irresistible smile spreads across his face. “Stop babbling,” he whispers. And then he tilts my head up, bends down, and kisses me.

And oh my god . . . That chemistry, the attraction that has been between us from virtually the very start? It’s all in this kiss. He holds my face in his hands, and his lips move against mine, softly at first, before the pressure gets harder and, with a groan, his tongue slides into my mouth.

My hands slip under his shirt and onto his back, which is warm and soft, and I can’t help but notice he’s trembling.

I

am, too. I feel like I’m on the cusp of combustion, just from kissing him. How could I actually survive anything

more

than this, anything wilder?

Joe pulls back briefly, and I see the desire in his eyes. “

Jesus

, Sienna,” he moans, dragging his lips down the side of my face, kissing my neck. I pull him closer to me, and I can feel him, hard, against me, showing me once and for all just how much he wants me. He takes my lips again, his hands tangling in my hair and tugging on it slightly, and it’s my turn to moan. I kiss him back, as hard as I can, trying to show him how much I want him, too.

“You are so fucking hot,” he breathes into my mouth at one point, and I melt against him, glad he’s apparently propping me up. He drops a few more quick kisses on my lips and then pulls back, leaving me bereft.

We stay entwined though, stare into each other’s eyes for a long moment while still leaning against the wall.

“You’re allowed to say something, you know,” Joe says eventually. His voice comes out hoarse and rasping.

“You told me to quit babbling.” I point out, my own voice uneven. “I don’t want to ruin the moment.”

He laughs huskily. “You’re the cutest babbler I’ve ever met,” he tells me, placing a kiss on the corner of my mouth. “I just needed to concentrate for a minute and you were about to start talking about cheese again.” He smooths a hand through my hair, his eyes moving over my face intently. “You’re so beautiful,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry I broke my promise not to touch you but I couldn’t help myself.”

“Are you

really

sorry?” I ask, smirking. He grimaces and shakes his head, green eyes sparking with dark humour.

“Not really. I kept telling myself it was platonic but it’s been getting harder and harder to deny how attracted I am to you.” He looks down for a moment, as if deciding something, then back up into my eyes. “I actually wanted you from the first moment I saw you getting on the transfer bus,” he admits, swallowing hard.

“You did?”

I’m totally taken aback. I hadn’t realised he’d already been interested in me when I stormed up to him demanding he try to separate Jack and Kate. He hid it very well.

Guilt overwhelms me. “I didn’t even notice you.” I confess. He nods and presses a small kiss to both cheeks. Heat gathers where his mouth has touched.

“I know. That’s okay. “

“If it’s any consolation, I really fancied you from the first minute I noticed you getting out of the pool yesterday though,” I smile, curling my fingers around one of the belt loops on his jeans, trying to pull him closer again.

“That does help soothe my ego a little.” His lips quirk upwards. “Although it does make me wonder if you just want me for my body.”

“Well . . .” I joke. “I did christen you Pool Hotty in my head before I knew your name.”

Joe laughs. “Not gonna lie, I kinda like it.”

We kiss again. This time it’s gentler, softer, more tender, less hurried. When we pull apart this time, we’re both smiling. He peels me off the wall. “We should probably head back.”

“I’m not sure I can manage it,” I say, giggling. “My legs feel wobbly.”

He takes my hand again and grins at me, his eyes bright. “Mine too.”

Chapter 18

Joe

I like this girl so much.

More than I’ve liked someone in a long time. Possibly more than I’ve liked anyone in

forever

?

She’s pretty, she’s sweet, she makes me laugh and now that I’ve kissed her, I don’t want to stop.

But I’m going to

have

to.

Stop

. At some point. Because I didn’t mean to get involved, and now I have, I need to make sure she knows this can’t go anywhere.

We’re back in the bar at the apartments, that same place I struggled to resist her earlier. Was that just a few hours ago? Did we

really

only meet yesterday evening? It feels impossible. It feels like I’ve known her for years.

Sienna places a bright blue cocktail in front of me and then drops down on the seat beside me, curling her legs up underneath her. “I got us Blue Lagoons,” she explains. “I thought it was an appropriate choice given the fact we seem to be surrounded by them on this island.”

“It makes sense. Thanks.” I glance up from my phone, where I was checking my emails, and see her watching me. She’s chewing on her lip, and her eyes are darker than normal. She looks like she wants to say something. “What is it?” I ask curiously.

She lets out a whoosh of air. “Just thinking how good you look in those glasses.”

I laugh. I think this is now the second time she’s made me blush. “These old things?” I joke, adjusting them self consciously.

She doesn’t smile. “Yep. They’re hot.”

I’ve never really thought of them like that. But I like the fact that Sienna seems to enjoy them. Really seems to enjoy them, judging by the lustful expression on her gorgeous face.

She’s edged closer now, and she leans in to kiss me again. “Really. Fucking. Hot.” she murmurs breathlessly between kisses, almost repeating my own words from earlier. As is apparently now the case when it comes to Sienna, I can’t resist, and the kiss deepens.

“What’s going on here then?” We pull apart to see Kate and Jack standing in front of us. Jack looks amused, and Kate looks smug. I groan.

“So much for just being friends,” Kate laughs. “What’s changed since this morning?” She asks Sienna. A bit inappropriately, in my opinion, but each to their own and all that.

Sienna shrugs, smiling at me. “I couldn’t keep pretending I didn’t fancy him,” she says simply. Her admission makes me feel . . .

weird

. In a

good

way.

I smile back. “Likewise.”

“Wow.” Jack shakes his head. “Who would’ve thought it, the monk has feelings after all?”

I know my brother doesn’t mean it in a bad way, but his words still sting. It seems he and Kate are, indeed, perfect for each other. Both geniuses at making other people feel uncomfortable.

“You want to join us for a drink?” Sienna offers. I can tell it’s half-hearted, and maybe they can, too. Or maybe they’re still too wrapped up in each other as they decline the offer.

“I think we’re going to head to bed,” Kate says, looking meaningfully at Sienna. “In Jack’s apartment. You know, just in case you’re wondering where I’ll be.”

“Kate, you’re about as subtle as a sledgehammer,” Sienna sighs. “Have a nice night.”

“You too.” Kate throws us an exaggerated wink.

“Be careful with him,” Jack adds as they take their leave. “Don’t want to scare him back to the monastery.”

“For fucks sake,” I mutter. I take my glasses off and rub my eyes.

“What does he actually

mean

by that?” Sienna asks quietly, watching them leave.

I shake my head. “First of all, it’s worth noting that Jack knows fuck all about my life. He’s taken a couple of sentences I said on the plane and made an assumption.”

“And what

did

you say? I’m guessing it wasn’t that you’re actually a monk and heading back to the monastery immediately after the holiday,” she says dryly, picking up her cocktail and taking a long swig at it.

“He was talking about holiday flings, and I said I had no intention of getting involved with anyone – I didn’t exactly plan to meet you. He then asked me when I’d last been involved with someone and I don’t think he expected the answer he got.” I realise now she’s going to want to know the answer to this too and I’m now too far in.

She just nods though. “Okay.”

I blink. “You’re not going to ask?”

“It’s killing me not to,” she smiles. “But I’m trying not to be super-nosy. I already interrogated you earlier, after all.” There’s about five seconds of silence. “No, sorry, you’re going to need to tell me.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a relationship,” I tell her. “I find it easier being alone.”

“Define ‘long time’.” She picks up her cocktail again.

“Not since my early twenties,” I say briefly. Her mouth drops open. “Don’t get me wrong, I haven’t quite been the monk Jack is making me out to be, it’s just the relationship thing I don’t do.”

“Can I ask why?” Sienna doesn’t seem judgemental or anything, just curious.

“It’s a long story,” I sigh. “I’d rather not get into it. Let’s just say I made some mistakes when I was younger and it made me decide relationships were too hard. Or that I wasn’t good at them anyway.”

“I’m thinking the shit with your parents didn’t help with that either,” she says perceptively.

“Probably not. That definitely fucked me up. But I can’t put all the blame on that. Lots of folk have messed-up backgrounds and still can be in fully functional relationships. I’m the problem. Sometimes I feel like . . . I’m maybe a bit

broken

somehow?”

Why do I keep telling her all this shit?

“I don’t think you’re broken.” Her voice is soft. “Relationships are fucking hard. Trust me, as someone who has just emerged from one a wreck of her former self, no one gets that more than me.”

“What happened there?” Now

I

have to pry further.

She sits back, scowling. “Let’s start at the end where I went to his flat to surprise him – I had a key. As far as I was aware, he was at work, and I was going to make him dinner because he’d been working so hard. Instead I found him in there shagging one of his colleagues.”

“Fuck.” I don’t know what else to say.

“Now, at that point you’d think he’d be grovelling, on his knees, begging me for forgiveness, wouldn’t you? But, no, he

dumps

me for her instead. Said it had been wrong for a while, he didn’t think he had actually ever loved me.” She’s stirring the remains of her cocktail furiously, and then she looks up at me, dark blue eyes almost shooting sparks. “I can’t be certain, as I was riding a pretty intense wave of humiliation at the time, but I’m pretty sure he actually said ‘it’s not me, it’s you’.”

“

No

!”

She starts to laugh, but there’s no humour in it. “

Seriously

. I was the injured party in all of this, but he was just piling on more and more insults. And I was such an idiot, there were so many bloody red flags popping up throughout the relationship and I ignored them all.”

She shakes her head. “In retrospect, I blame the pandemic. I met Greg just after we were allowed out to play again, and I’d just spent more than two months alone on lockdown. I was so sick of my own company, and then we had formed a bubble when everything locked back down again so I got way too attached and overlooked all the signs it was wrong.” She frowns. “I’d like to think I’d have shown better judgement otherwise but hindsight’s 20:20 and all that.”

“He sounds like an absolute prick.” I feel white hot rage on Sienna’s behalf. I don’t know how anyone could treat her this badly. She’s the sweetest girl I’ve ever met, and she deserves so much more than that.

She deserves much more than

me

too, I realise. But, for

now

, I vow to myself, and for the next few days, I’m going to do my best to make sure I’m deserving of her. I slide my arm around her and pull her towards me so I can kiss her on the cheek.

I want any memories she has of me, of this short time we have together, to be fond ones.

Chapter 19

Sienna

My eyes flutter open, and I realise it’s morning. And an arm is looped around my waist. For once, I’ve not shifted position during the night.

I can’t help but smile as I think of last night, especially that heart-stopping kissing session on the way back to the apartments. I feel like I’m still floating on that memory a bit.

After the bar, we came back to my room since Kate had oh-so-pointedly told us she’d be with Jack, and I was sure Joe wouldn’t want to hear a live sex show again. Oh, and obviously I wanted Joe to be with me because . . . Well, those pesky

feelings

again.

But I also didn’t want to rush things. Which I think Joe sensed as he didn’t try to take things any further than kissing last night, and eventually, we drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms in my single bed.

“Morning.” His voice vibrates against the back of my neck, a warm growl that flows down through my veins and causes butterflies in my tummy. I can also feel his hard-on pressing into me, and I already know there’s no way either of us can stop where this is inevitably going.

But I’m

absolutely

ready for it now.

“Hey,” I manage in return.

“Have we had any nipple incidents today?” He asks, amusement in his voice. “Do you need me to check for you?”

I glance down at my chest. “They’re both covered,” I report back.

Joe tuts. “Well, we can’t have that.” And with that, his fingers slide up and pull down my vest top. I bite back a gasp as he kisses the side of my neck and pulls on my nipple at the same time. “

Much

better,” he says smugly, palming my whole breast.

I can’t stop a moan escaping my lips this time. I feel him laugh against my neck, and then next thing I’m flat on my back, and he’s looming over me. All flat stomach, messy hair, and wicked grin. His eyes have gone dark again.

“Sienna,” he says softly. “I’m afraid I’m going to need you to take all your clothes off.” I hesitate for a moment, looking up at him in awe, thinking somehow he’s become even sexier overnight. “

Now

,” he nudges me on, an edge of command creeping into his voice.

Wordlessly, I pull my top over my head, and he breathes in sharply, biting his lip as he looks at my bare breasts. “I’ve been thinking about these since yesterday morning. That was some sight to wake up to.” He bends his head and kisses them both, and I quickly feel my arousal overriding any embarrassment.

“You seem to have forgotten to remove your other items of clothing,” he says huskily, between kisses.

“You appear to be blocking my way,” I argue, my breathing uneven.

“A good point.” He nods, moving up to my lips and dropping a quick kiss on my mouth before he heads south, collecting my shorts and knickers on the way. And now I’m completely naked, absolutely exposed, in front of him.

He looks me up and down and licks his lips – I think an unconscious rather than deliberate gesture, but it still sends lust shooting through my body. “You’re gorgeous,” he says simply, his eyes meeting mine as he gently runs his hands up my thighs. Then, he lowers his head between my legs and starts to taste me.

“Oh my

god

,” I bite out, my fists clenching the bedsheets beneath me as he runs his tongue over me. He chuckles against me, which makes me feel even more sensitive, then slips a finger inside me.

He seems instinctively to know how to turn me on but prolong the pleasure so I don’t immediately climax. I have a feeling he could make me orgasm far quicker if he really wanted to. He’s clearly in no hurry, though. And because of this, I feel myself relax, let myself go rather than worrying that I’m taking too long, which has happened to me in the past.

I know I’m on the cusp of something big here, and I start to shamelessly push myself against his mouth. He stills me with the palm of one hand, adds another finger inside me and increases the pressure with his lips and tongue, and it drives me right over the edge. I think my eyes actually roll back in my head as I moan again and surrender to what might be one of the best orgasms of my life.

When I open my eyes a moment or two later, struggling to get my breath back under control, he’s watching me intently. “How was

that

for you?” He asks innocently, struggling to conceal a smile.

“It was . . .

passable

,” I say nonchalantly, raising myself up onto my elbows. “I’ll give you a 4 out of 5 on TripAdvisor.” I’m lying, of course. I would give him

10

out of 5 if I could.

“I’ll reluctantly accept that rating for now, but please accept my assurances that I will endeavour to turn that 4 into a 5.” Joe lightly traces one of my nipples with a lazy finger and winks at me. Christ, he is hot as hell. I

need

to return the favour.

“Take those off,” I order, indicating his boxer shorts. He grins, his eyes half closed as he immediately obeys and oh

Jesus

. . .

He’s beautiful, and he’s hard, and he groans as I take him in my mouth.

And I’m aiming for a 5 out of 5 rating first time with this one.

Chapter 20

Joe

I’m still feeling the after-effects of our early morning antics a couple of hours later as I wander down to meet Sienna for another road trip. Despite my assurances to her that I haven’t completely lived like a monk for ten plus years, it’s still been a good while since I’ve been that intimate with someone else and, I can’t lie, it felt really

nice

.

Sienna is just so easy to be around. I am incredibly attracted to her, but I also feel comfortable with her. I don’t feel like she needs me to impress her, and I’m surprised at myself at how much I’ve actually opened up to her already, or at

all

for that matter. I normally play my cards close to my chest, but she’s gradually forcing my hand, apparently without even trying.

She’s already waiting for me. She’s wearing a mint coloured strappy beach dress over a turquoise bikini and has a bright pink flower clip pinned into her tousled blonde hair. She looks so pretty. I can’t believe she’s mine.

I shake my head to clear my own thoughts. She’s

not

mine. This

isn’t

like that.

Sienna glances up at me and breaks into a smile, waving me over. I try not to dwell too much on the memories from earlier, force myself not to imagine her lying naked in front of me again. It’s surprisingly difficult. “What are you up to?” I ask as casually as I can, walking towards her.

“Just doing an inventory of the communal bookcase,” she replies, sipping an orange juice and indicating the shelves that guests can leave their unwanted books on after they’ve finished them. “I didn’t download enough books onto my Kindle for my holiday, apparently, so I thought I’d see if I could find a physical book to read. Usually, they’re all duds, but I’m hoping I’ll find a hidden gem.”

I nod, sitting down at a nearby table. “Yeah, usually it’s just duplicate copies of the same ‘classic’, books you’ve already read, or downright trash,” I agree, stretching out my legs while I admire her bare tanned shoulders.

“Shall we play holiday bookshelf bingo?” she asks, wiggling her dark eyebrows at me. I frown back, confused.

This is UK Birthday Number 1 all over again.

She giggles. “Take a guess at what might be on these shelves, and I’ll tell you if it’s there.” She raises her arms and gives a dramatic flourish towards the bookcase, like a magician’s assistant. “There’s no prize, but you get the joy of taking part!”

She’s such an idiot. An

adorable

one, though.

“Oh right, I get it.” I think for a minute. “Well, there’s got to be at

least

one Dan Brown book there, surely,” I decide.

She scans the shelves. “One copy of The DaVinci Code and as many as

three

copies of Angels & Demons.” She doffs an imaginary cap in my direction. “Well played, good sir.”

“Okay . . . Fifty Shades of Grey?”

She pulls out one of the books from that series and holds it out to me with a sceptical eyebrow raised. “You gave your copy away?” she jokes, and I make a face at her. “Okay, you’re batting two for two so far. Any other ideas?”

I correctly guess a Twilight book, a random self-help book that clearly came free with a magazine bought at the airport, and a mostly used puzzle book will all be in that bookcase.

“Who

does

that?” Sienna wonders in disgust, thumbing through the puzzle book. “They’ve filled in every single puzzle, apart from the sudokus. What a psychopath.” She shakes her head, placing it back on the shelf as I watch her, amused. “Ah… I think I’ve found the hidden gem!” She exclaims, sounding delighted all of a sudden.

She pulls another book out and scans the back. “It is what I thought it was! I’ve not read this in years. Did you ever read this?”

Before she even holds it up towards me, I recognise it.

She starts babbling excitedly about it, telling me the plot. It’s about a nerdy guy in his late teens who one day discovers he can read minds… “You know, a bit like ‘What Women Want’ but without all the misogyny”, but even that can’t help him get the girl of his dreams.

“Yeah, I remember it,” I say faintly.

I should be happy she thinks so much of it. Wait, no, I

am

happy about that. I’m over the moon, in fact.

But, remember that bestselling novel I mentioned I wrote years ago?

That’s

the book she’s currently waving around in her hand and raving about.

I just don’t

really

want her to know that.