CH 1-10

Summary

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 . . . ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ When Sienna Norton decides to surprise her boyfriend, she’s the one who ends up surprised – and heartbroken – when she discovers him with another woman. Her best friend Kate convinces her they should go on holiday abroad to help her move on . . . But once they reach the beautiful Greek island of Kefalonia, Sienna somehow ends up abandoned once again. Things start to look up, though, when she meets Joe, and they make an agreement to spend the rest of their holiday together. Joe is gorgeous, smart, and funny, and there’s absolutely no denying there’s chemistry between them – but Sienna hasn’t expected to feel . . . *things* so soon, and Joe . . . well, there’s definitely something he just isn’t telling her. Will there be a chance for them to be *more* than just holiday buddies?

Chapter 1

Sienna

There are many things in this world that can make you feel insufferably alone at times.

Witnessing happy couples when you’ve not long broken up with someone, and that break-up was not your choice, definitely slots right into that category.

At the moment, however, I am experiencing a whole new horrendous twist on that particular type of torture.

I’m trying so hard to concentrate on the book I’m reading, but my furious gaze keeps being drawn again and again to the couple on the other side of the pool.

They can’t keep their hands off each other and are trying to share one sun lounger. They already obliterated one earlier and were given a bit of a lecture from a member of staff, but it doesn’t seem to have stopped them trying again.

How did I end up in this situation? I wonder angrily.

“This holiday is going to be amazing!” Kate had insisted two days ago as we sat on the plane to Kefalonia. “We’ll call it ‘Sienna’s Big Single Celebration'”.

“I’d really rather we didn’t,” I muttered, wishing my best friend would keep her voice down. “It’s not exactly something I want to celebrate.”

Walking in on my boyfriend of two years in flagrante with one of his female colleagues just three weeks ago was still, understandably, a bit of a pain point for me. It’s bad enough to find out someone has been cheating on you: to have the visual makes it even worse. (It’s pretty much imprinted inside my eyelids, and the image has appeared pretty much every time I close my eyes. Sleeping has not been easy.)

Then to discover that he’d actually been shagging her on the side for nearly half of our so-called relationship – a relationship, I might add, that I had thought was about to progress to cohabitation – just really was the kick in the heart I really didn’t need. Especially when he then broke up with me to shack up with her.

I suppose I should be glad we weren’t actually living together by the time I discovered the truth – it would have been far more difficult to untangle our lives if that had been the case. I really wished now, though, that Greg hadn’t given me a key to his flat. It had given me both hope for a future with him and then ripped that future away from me when I witnessed his betrayal.

I was obviously a bit of a wreck immediately after the whole incident, and Kate decided the best way to help me move on was for us to book a holiday.

I wasn’t really up for it.

I wasn’t really up for doing anything, to be honest. I really just wanted to slob around in my flat, living off a diet of Haribo and rhubarb gin, accompanied by a soundtrack of my own crying and “Modern Family” episodes. This was my life now. I went to work during the day, painted on a brave face, and pretended to be a professional. Then, I came home and wallowed in misery, booze, and jelly sweets.

Kate would not let it go though, and that’s why I found myself sitting on a plane with a plastic tumbler of overpriced lukewarm white wine in one hand, and a tiny equally overpriced tub of sour cream and onion Pringles in the other – the ultimate flying cliché – as she excitedly told me the plans she had for us.

“We’ll go out for dinner every night,” she said excitedly. “I’ve been looking up some of the restaurants on TripAdvisor; there are so many places with baked feta on the menu, you’ll be in heaven!”

I do like my cheese. I felt the teeniest bit of hope unfurl inside me at the thought of baked Greek cheese and realised the tiniest of smiles was creeping onto my lips. At the moment, I grabbed and held on tight to happiness from any source I could. I wasn’t ashamed.

“The capital of the island is just over the hill from where we’re staying too so we can walk over there – maybe we can even hire a car,” she continued excitedly. “Or do a boat trip?”

She pressed her tumbler against mine in a vague attempt at a “Cheers”. It doesn’t really have the same effect with plastic, but I tried to get into the spirit and took a big swig of wine.

“It’ll be such good fun,” she finished, smiling contentedly. “We’ll get you completely over that wanker, Greg.”

I’d almost started to believe her.

We’d arrived in Lassi early enough on that first day to have a couple of drinks by the pool. I started to feel a bit more relaxed, the way you do on a sunny holiday abroad.

I even posted a photo on my Facebook, that old classic “hot dogs or legs” photo of the view from my sunlounger, holding a bottle of Mythos in my hand. (Everyone knows you need to post one of these while everyone else you know back home is still at work so you can rub it in their faces that you’re on holiday and they are not – it’s an unspoken law of social media.)

After a few hours baking in the late May sunshine, we excitedly put on suitably summery dresses and some light make-up and headed to one of the nearby restaurants. We gorged on baked feta, moussaka, a ten euro litre carafe of white wine, and a wee bit of baklava. It was the most I’d eaten in ages – the only time my appetite goes is when I’m heartbroken.

When we got back to our apartment complex, the pool bar was lit up and full of people and lively music. We danced and drank some more, chatting with some of the other guests, before I excused myself to slip to bed. Our flight had been early and I was knackered. “I’ll come with you,” Kate offered but she was still full of beans and having fun, so I told her she should stay.

That was probably a mistake, I’m now thinking, as I continue to shoot covert angry looks at the horny couple.

Because shortly after I left the bar, Kate met Jack . . . and they’ve been all over each other like this for close to a day and a half now.

A happy couple is bad enough… but when one half of the happy couple is the friend you came on holiday with to try to forget men . . . It’s even more of a nightmare.

Chapter 2

Sienna

Now, I don’t want you to think I begrudge my best friend happiness. That’s

really

not the case. And Kate has been through a bad time of it herself recently. She deserves to have a bit of fun, and it’s sweet that she and this Jack guy are so into each other.

It’s just a bit

galling

when this holiday was meant to be about me, and I’ve been ignored the whole time. I didn’t come here to be a third wheel. I came here to try and get over my ex and have a good time with my friend.

But for the last 24 hours or so, I’ve been completely alone.

Last night, I ended up eating a burger at the pool bar because Kate vanished first thing and didn’t reappear until I was in bed.

That

was fun. I’m being sarcastic, obviously. I

hate

eating alone. Am I going to have to do that again tonight?

I get she’s all wrapped in Jack, but doesn’t she realise that abandoning me like this isn’t cool either?

I’m feeling

ridiculously

sorry for myself.

To be fair, she did invite me to join them at the pool this morning, but I declined. Sit next to that over-the-top PDA all day? I’m not a

total

masochist.

I turn my laser beam eyes away from them again since the gaze does not seem to be slicing them back onto two separate entities as intended, and I stare at the pool instead. It’s empty, apart from a dark-haired man currently swimming lengths.

Maybe I should have a swim? Who am I kidding though, I’ve already been in and out of the pool six times today, trying to entertain myself in between reading my Kindle and walking up to the bar for another glass of wine.

There’s also a pretty good chanceI’m a bit tipsy now and shouldn’t, therefore, be putting myself into a potential drowning situation. I flop back on my lounger and shut my eyes, groaning inwardly and wishing I was back under a blanket in my flat where it wouldn’t matter that I was by myself.

I reopen my eyes just in time to watch the swimming guy hoist himself out of the pool like he thinks he’s in some sort of cologne advert. Now, if I wasn’t heartbroken and was on the market for a bit of fun, I would

definitely

be into this dude. He pushes wet brown hair out of his eyes and although I’ve never really been sure what “swoon” means, I’m pretty sure that’s what I do at the brief glimpse I get at his face before he walks over to his lounger to towel off. His body is definitely not bad either. My eyes linger briefly on the wet shorts clinging to his tight little arse before I give myself a mental slap for being a wee perv.

It’s nice, though, I suppose, to know I’m still capable of feeling lust, no matter how brief. I was starting to think Greg had broken me.

I slip my sunglasses on so I can watch covertly as he gathers his belongings together and leaves the pool area. Much to my surprise, though, he pauses to momentarily separate my friend and Jack. They speak briefly before he nods and walks away.

Hmmm. So is Mr Pool Hotty

also

a third wheel? Now that I think about it, I think he also ate at the bar last night, watching the football on the TV. Deep in thought, I close my eyes again and drift off to sleep for a bit.

There’s no sign of my friend when I wake up, and she’s not in the apartment either. I find a note there though saying “Gone out with Jack for a bite to eat!x”.

Surprise

sur-fucking-prise

. Looks like it’s going to be a bar meal for one for me again.

Muttering expletives under my breath most of the time, I shower and then dig through my suitcase (I find unpacking a chore so I generally just don’t do it) for my pale pink midi dress, before quickly getting ready and walking down to the pool bar. It’s still sunny, so I order a wine and sit at a table beside the pool while I consider my next move.

I can’t keep doing this all week, I think to myself. We’re here until Wednesday morning, and it’s only Friday today. Four more days of being left alone is going to drive me crazy. I can feel myself welling up with angry tears, and I blink them away as quickly as possible.

And that’s when I spot him.

Chapter 3

Sienna

Mr Pool Hotty is sitting in a shady part of the bar, sipping a pint while he reads a book.

Without really thinking about it, I grab my drink and bag and walk towards his table. “Are you with Jack?” I ask before I’ve even reached him.

He doesn’t look up from his book. “He’s my brother.”

Ah

. Yeah, okay, there

is

a family resemblance, I suppose. Pool Hotty is

far

better looking in my opinion though. He’s got one of those chiselled faces, all cheekbones and long straight lines, the angles softened slightly by a dimple in each cheek. Jack’s face, from what I’ve noticed of it when it’s not been stuck to Kate’s, is nowhere near as defined; like someone tried to trace Hotty to create a duplicate but was maybe a wee bit under the influence of drugs at the time.

Pool Hotty has short dark hair, but a lot of it, and it’s been styled into sort of a messy quiff at the front, which I really want to just stick my hands in. Even better, though, he’s now wearing black-framed glasses – a good-looking guy in glasses has always been a weakness of mine.

And I’m

definitely

at my weakest right about now.

I quickly remind myself that I’m not remotely interested in ever getting involved with a guy ever again. Even one who looks like

this

.

“Well, can you ask your brother to cool it with my friend? The pair of them are running my holiday,” I find myself wailing plaintively.

He looks up at that, his eyes narrowing speculatively as he takes me in. I realise then that he has very green eyes – so

ridiculously

green, in fact, that I would have assumed he had coloured contacts in were he not already wearing those glasses.

“Do you think I haven’t tried?” He asks finally. “My main goal for this holiday wasn’t exactly to be stuck by myself all the time either.”

Oh well, at least it’s not just me suffering. Misery loves company and all that, so I ask, “Can I sit here?”

“If you must,” he nods, indicating the chair opposite him and looking back at his book.

Charming

. But I don’t want to spend another minute alone, so I huff audibly and settle myself in my new seat. He doesn’t say anything else, and I wonder if me coming over here was a completely pointless exercise. I sip my wine, looking around the bar awkwardly, before my eyes almost involuntarily latch back onto his face.

He really is incredibly handsome. The fact that he is completely ignoring me doesn’t negate that, sadly.

“I’m used to my own company,” he says finally, eyes still on his book. “I like being alone, and I’m happy that way.” I wonder if this is my cue to leave, but then he continues. “But I came on this holiday thinking I was actually going to bond with my sibling for a change . . .and then discovered my brother had other ideas.” He smiles ruefully, his dimples deepening as he raises his eyes to me, and I’m caught in that intense green gaze again. “You?”

“My friend brought me here to cheer me up as I got dumped three weeks ago,” I say lightly. Try to say lightly. My voice is coming out thick somehow and betraying me. “Instead, I’ve spent the last 36 hours alone, wishing I was home because there’s less to distract me here. At least if I was alone in my own home, it would be on my own terms, but I’m somehow even more in my own head here.” A short sharp sob escapes my mouth, and he looks mildly horrified. “Sorry, it’s been an emotional few weeks.” I rub my fingers under my eyes, checking for rogue mascara.

I should be mortified about having a mini-breakdown in front of Pool Hotty, but I can’t even bring myself to be. Is this rock bottom? Or do I still have further to fall?

“Well, I think we can agree that my brother and your pal are both being a bit selfish,” he says softly.

“A

bit

?” I snort. “Try a

lot

.”

He laughs. It’s a welcome sound to my ears. “I’m Joe, by the way.” He closes his book and holds out a hand.

“Sienna,” I reply, putting my hand in his. God, it’s so nice to be touched by a guy again, even just a handshake. I’ve missed that. I feel pathetic.

“Are you okay, Sienna?” Joe asks gently. He hasn’t removed his hand. I feel teary again.

“It’s just good to . . . Talk to someone,” I say finally. “I’ve barely spoken to anyone since Wednesday night, and I’m going out of my mind.”

He gives my hand a comforting squeeze before he lets go. There’s a sympathetic half-smile lifting his lips.

“Kate had all these plans for us here, I wasn’t particularly wanting to go on holiday in the first place, but I thought . . . At least I’d be distracted. And now . . . I just . . .” I properly start to cry now. Fuck, this is embarrassing.

“Here.” He carefully pushes a napkin into my hand. “Just let it out. You’ll feel better, I promise.”

“I feel like a fucking idiot,” I bleat through my tears, pressing the napkin to my eyes.

“You’re not.” Joe pushes back his chair and stands up. “Give me a wee minute.”

Oh crap, he’s going to run away isn’t he? If the roles were reversed, that’s probably what I would do. I wipe away frantically at my tears, cursing myself inwardly for having no control over my emotions.

A moment later he places a shot glass in front of me. “I think you need something stronger than wine.” There’s a smile in his voice. He returns to his chair. “Hope you like sambuca.”

“It’s been a while since I last had it, but yes,” I reply. We clink our glasses together and then throw the liquid down our throats. It burns and then floods my insides with a welcome warmth.

“So I have a proposition for you,” Joe says after a few beats of silence. I look up at him curiously and he’s watching me intently with those startling eyes.

“Okay . . .” I say slowly, tentatively. What if it’s a sex-related proposition? I suddenly wonder out-of-nowhere, swallowing a nervous giggle. Not that I would do anything, obviously (still heartbroken, remember?). It’s just that the way he’s looking at me makes me . . .

Feel

things. Things I shouldn’t really be feeling.

Instead he says the last thing I expect, but somehow was secretly hoping he would say.

“Sienna,” he says softly. “Would you like to spend the rest of your holiday with me? I can be your substitute holiday buddy, if you want. “

Despite myself, I find myself smiling. “Joe, I thought you’d never ask.”

Chapter 4

Joe

Somehow, in the space of five minutes , I went from being abandoned by my brother to acquiring a new holiday companion.

I don’t really know what made me do it. The fact Sienna was really upset and I didn’t know how to fix things for her? Because I feel the tiniest bit guilty for my brother stealing her friend? Or is it simply because I think she’s gorgeous?

I noticed her two afternoons ago climbing onto the airport transfer bus; even when she was clearly knackered from the early flight, she stood out.

Now, sitting in front of me, despite her bout of crying, she is still beautiful. Her eyes, which I thought at first glance were brown, are actually an unusually dark shade of blue. Which I guess makes more sense as her hair is so light it’s practically platinum. Her eyebrows and lashes are much darker, but it somehow works with her delicate features. She has a sprinkling of light freckles dancing along her cheeks and across her nose. In a word, she’s

amazing

.

Is she my usual type? Well, according to a lot of folk, my type is simply “female”. I’ve tried my best to lose that reputation over the years, but some things still stick, unfortunately. I may have made a concerted effort to change, but most people have long memories.

Maybe doing this good deed for Sienna will help atone further. Although it will benefit me just as much as I don’t think she’ll be difficult to spend time with. As Joey in Friends (I believe) once said, there’s no such thing as a selfless good deed.

The fact she’s heartbroken also means that, despite the fact I think she’s hot, I’ll keep it platonic – there’s yet

another

test for me, I tell myself wryly.

I snap myself out of my thoughts and clap my hands together. “So we need a plan,” I say. I open the blank back page of my book and grab the pen out of my shirt pocket. “Tell me what you were planning on doing, and we’ll try and make as much of it happen as possible.”

“Oh god,” she sighs. “It was Kate who had all the ideas, I just listened.” She takes another sip of her wine, thinking. “She said something about the capital of the island being over the hill, I think.”

“Argostoli, that’s right. I actually walked over to it yesterday.” I needed to do

something

. “It’s really nice, lots of good places to eat, great views. We can definitely make that happen.”

“Yay,” she says feebly. I smile at her in what I hope is a reassuring way.

“She talked about hiring a car, boat trips . . .” Sienna exhales loudly again. “I wish I’d paid more attention, but I was exhausted on that flight.”

“I know,” I say without thinking, remembering again her face from the transfer bus, to which she gives me a strange look, and I feel myself blush. What the

fuck

? I don’t think I’ve ever blushed in my life,

despite

the amount of embarrassing things I’ve done. Looking for a distraction, I spot a row of leaflets sitting on the bar and retrieve them.

“I can see about hiring a car tomorrow,” I say, pushing some leaflets towards her. “See if there’s anything that takes your fancy in amongst these attractions.”

She shuffles through them. “Fiskardo looks nice,” she comments after a few moments. “Let’s get that on the list.”

“Cool.” I scrawl it down. “Anywhere else?”

“Ooh, Xi Beach?” She points out a photograph of a reddish beach to me. To my relief, she’s starting to perk up a bit. She’s starting to look less . . .

defeated

and more like the happy beauty I spotted at the pool bar on Wednesday night.

Before

my bloody idiot brother ruined her trip by falling for her friend.

We come up with a few more ideas, then I hear a strange little growling noise. She starts laughing and covers her face. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. That was my stomach.” She shakes her head. “I’ve not eaten anything apart from a croissant this morning, I’ve been too stressed.”

“Fuck, and you’ve had quite a bit to drink,” I jump to my feet, and grab her hand. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” She asks, letting me pull her up.

“I’m taking you to dinner, of course.” She’s not drinking any more on a virtually empty stomach on

my

watch. I take my holiday buddy role seriously.

That’s what I’m telling myself anyway.

Chapter 5

Sienna

Since I acquired my new holiday friend, I am already feeling so much happier.

With a sort-of plan in place for how I’m going to spend the rest of the trip, it’s like I have

hope

again. I’m going to have distractions. I’m not going to have to keep remembering the day I walked into Greg’s flat over and over on a loop. I’m not going to have to think about how lonely I am, while my so-called bestie flaunts her newfound love in front of me.

And, to top it off, the person who is going to help distract me is exceedingly easy on the eye. So rather than think about my ex, I can try really hard not to end up falling for my saviour.

Which

actually

might be pretty difficult.

Because within the space of a couple of hours, I’ve learned that Joe isn’t just a pretty face. He’s clever. He’s charming. He’s funny. And, most importantly, he’s

kind

. He’s looked out for me and made sure I was okay, and I’ll be forever grateful for that.

He’s also somehow familiar. This feeling has crept up on me throughout the evening, and I’ve not been able to shake it.

Have we met before?

“Where do you stay?” I ask him now, forking up my last bite of lamb stifado and sighing in delight that I’m back in a bustling restaurant after last night’s lonely meal nightmare.

“Glasgow, although I only moved back a couple of years ago,” he replies. “I was in London for a good few years. You’re a weegie too, right?”

I nod. “Well, an honorary one anyway. Grew up a couple of miles south. Moved to the city after uni and been there ever since.”

“No place quite like it.” He has such a nice smile.

“I was just wondering if we’d met before somehow,” I say. “There’s something so familiar about you.”

He freezes, and it looks like a muscle in his cheek twitches as my words sink in. But he covers it with an easy shrug. “Must just have one of those faces,” he says lightly.

He definitely definitely does

not

have one of those faces. I drop it for now, though. I’m sure I’ll figure it out at some point.

We both order a Metaxa, laughing when the waiter warns us we might find it strong. “Mate, we’re Scottish,” Joe jokes. “Have you ever tasted whisky?” The waiter nods as if to say “fair play” and leaves us.

“We should probably make a toast,” I suggest. “The start of a beautiful friendship and all that. “

“Good idea.” Joe smiles again. He takes off his glasses, hooking them on his shirt pocket. Jeez, his eyes are even

greener

without them. They’re quite mesmerising. Consider me hypnotised.

I remind myself again that I can’t crush on this dude. I’ve sworn off all men. And it’s not like Joe has given me any hint he’s interested. He’s

way

out of my league.

But holy

shit

is he hot.

He picks up his Metaxa and holds it up towards me. “Here’s to an amazing few days in Kefalonia,” he says softly. “

Yamas

.”

“

Yamas

,” I echo, falling into those amazing eyes as I sip. Finding myself thinking, traitorously,

Greg who

?

Chapter 6

Joe

When I get back to the apartment I’ve been sharing with Jack an hour or two later, he’s not back yet.

God knows where he and Kate are

, I think, shaking my head. Probably shagging on the beach or something.

Incidentally, that’s something I’ve never enjoyed. It’s bloody uncomfortable. And the sand just ends up everywhere.

Trust me.

I rub my eyes tiredly and figure it’s probably time to turn in anyway. I need to get up early and do some car rental research. I don’t know why it’s so important to me but I’m determined to make sure Sienna enjoys the rest of her holiday.

Just seeing her light up tonight was enough to make me want more. It’s pathetic she’s ended up in this situation. But I’ll do everything I can to make her smile. Within reason, obviously.

It feels like I’ve barely fallen asleep when a noise wakes me up. Several noises. A keycard beeping, a lock clicking, a door flying open and hitting the wall. Followed by lots of “shhhh” and giggle sounds.

You have

got

to be kidding me.

I’m suddenly extremely glad I forked out the extra money for a two bedroom apartment. Although from the noises still emanating directly outside my bedroom door, it appears Kate and Jack have decided to begin their foreplay in the hall.

This is

not

fun.

I mean, it probably is for

them

. But

I’m

the one who has to listen to it.

“Don’t,” I hear Jack mutter. “We’ll wake up my broth-

oh my god

!” I hear a thud against the wall and a long moan. I can probably make an educated guess as to what Kate is doing to him right about now. I don’t particularly want to think about it though.

I roll onto my side and curl the pillow around my head so I can try and smother out the noise. It’s easier said than done. For someone who didn’t want to wake me a couple of minutes ago, Jack is being surprisingly vocal. When he finally, presumably, orgasms, I can still hear it in surround sound, albeit slightly muffled.

“You are a fucking goddess,” he informs Sienna’s friend. I’m still cringing as they finally leave the hallway and his bedroom door shuts.

The relief is short lived as it’s only a couple of minutes before the sex noises ramp up again, and turns out Kate is also pretty determined to make her voice heard.

I try two pillows, I try burrowing myself under the covers but it’s far too warm and these walls are way too thin. I try earphones but blasting music into my ears isn’t exactly going to help me sleep either.

Eventually I have to give up. I grab my pool towel, and mosquito repellent and wander down to the pool. I’ll actually find it easier to sleep outside, mozzies or not, than in the next room from the mad shaggers.

Is every night going to be like this? I wonder, as I settle onto a lounger and cover myself with the towel. I’m not sure I can hack that. It reminds me of my younger days, back when I thought I could do whatever I wanted, sod other people’s feelings and any other consequences. I don’t really like reliving those times.

Sleep still isn’t coming easy. I’m running high on irritated adrenalin now so I pull out my book and try to read that for a bit. I must finally drift off to sleep though . . . I only realise when someone lightly touches my arm and I start awake. A vision in white comes into focus, smiling worriedly at me.

It’s Sienna, smiling ruefully at me.

“I thought I might find you out here,” she says.

Chapter 7

Sienna

The poor guy is sleeping on his side on a sun lounger when I come down to the dimly lit pool to check if he’s there. He looks so uncomfortable. His book has slipped to the ground, and his glasses are askew. I feel some sort of emotion I can’t quite identify clench my insides at the sight of his handsome face.

When I woke up, still alone, at three in the morning, to discover a text from Kate saying she was going to Jack’s apartment, I thought it might be a good idea to check the pool area. I knew Joe had said they had separate rooms, but I also knew a couple of salient facts about Kate, which made me suspect sleeping in the room next door wouldn’t be too easy. I’m therefore unsurprised to find Joe here.

When I gently rouse him, his eyes flutter open, and he seems confused. “Sienna, what . . .?” He mumbles, righting his glasses and rubbing his face.

Holy crap

, even half asleep with his hair all over the place, he’s still unbelievably attractive.

“Come on,” I pull him to his feet and help him collect his belongings. “You’re coming to my apartment. You can bunk up with me. “

We only have a studio, so there’s only one main room, comprising of the beds and kitchen area, plus the en suite. I’m extremely glad therefore that Kate didn’t decide to bring Jack back to ours for a shagging session as there would have been less privacy, and even less space. So much so, it would have practically been a menage a trois, with me as an unwilling third participant.

“Do you want a water or juice or anything?” I ask, opening the fridge after I’ve let us in. We stocked up on lots of water, Fanta Limon and Mythos on the first day. It’s barely been touched thanks to Kate’s absence.

“A water would be great, thanks,” Joe replies. “I’m parched.” I toss him a bottle, which he fumbles to catch. Still not quite awake.

Adorable

. I lean against the kitchen worktop, sipping from my own already opened bottle.

He takes a long swig from the bottle and then looks at me curiously, smiling. “How did you know?” I realise what he’s asking.

“I got a message from Kate to say she was going back to your apartment. I figured it was going to be a bit noisy.”

He raises an eyebrow questioningly, propping himself up against the wall across from me.

“She’s been single a while,” I shrug in response. “And also, I used to live with her… she can be bit of a screamer.” I wince. I spent many a night trying to hide under my pillow back in the day.

“That,” he says, shaking his head. “Was sadly accurate.”

“So you got the full show?”

“Most of it.”

“Listening to other people having sex,” I say. “Isn’t much fun.” My voice has went husky all of a sudden.

Joe regards me steadily over the rims of his glasses.

Sexy

. “No.” He agrees. “It’s not.”

Something has just shifted, and it’s changed the atmosphere between us. Probably the fact we’re talking about sex. Oh, and he’s topless.

That

would do it.

There’s a couple of beats of silence. Loaded silence. His mouth curves upwards and his eyes flash emerald. I can feel my cheeks redden.

My insides contract involuntarily again. This time I know exactly why.

“Anyway, you can catch some kip here,” I say hurriedly, breaking the spell. “It’s only fair.” I indicate Kate’s bed. In typical holiday apartment fashion, it’s pushed close to my own bed. “I’m assuming she’s probably not going to be sleeping here much now anyway.”

“Thanks Sienna,” he says softly. “I really appreciate it.” He removes his glasses and slides under the sheet, moving about as he tries to get comfortable. At least it’ll be an improvement over a lounger –

they’re

not even comfortable to lie on when you’re trying to sunbathe.

I slip into my own bed and switch off my bedside lamp. I curl up on my right side although I know I inevitably will wake up on my left side with no recollection of when I shifted.

“Sienna?” he whispers into the darkness after a minute or two.

“Yes?” I ask sleepily.

“I just want you to know . . . You’re safe with me,” he says. “I know I’m a virtual stranger and I appreciate you trusting me enough to share your space. But I promise I won’t lay a finger on you.”

His words should reassure me and I know that’s his intention.

But I also get the unsaid message behind them; that despite that brief moment of heat between us there, he doesn’t intend for it to go any further.

“Okay. Good to know,” I say coolly. And I close my eyes tightly and try to force sleep to take away the sudden disappointment flooding through my veins.

Chapter 8

Joe

Daylight is filtering through the blinds in the apartment when I wake up from my third attempt at sleep. It takes me a minute to work out where I am, then it all comes screaming back to me, Kate-style.

I’m facing Sienna, who is still sleeping soundly, her breathing even. She’s obviously been too hot during the night as she’s thrown the sheet off and . . .

Oh god, her silky white vest top has slipped down to reveal a small pale pink nipple. I suck in my breath. Her bed is so close to mine that I could reach out and touch it right now.

Tweak

it. I give myself a mental shake.

Wasn’t it just a few hours ago I gave that speech about what an honourable person I was and how I wouldn’t touch her?

And that speech in itself was prompted by the fact that we definitely had just had what I could only describe as a

moment

, alone together in her room in the middle of the night, and if she had made the first move there was absolutely no way I wouldn’t have went there. I don’t think I could have resisted.

So I felt like I needed,

somehow

, to lay down a boundary.

I’m a fucking idiot.

She starts to stir and I panic, close my eyes and feign sleep. I hear a slight intake of breath – she’s obviously realised the wardrobe malfunction – and I hear a rustle as she adjusts herself. She sits up. Everything feels really silent all of a sudden. I’m very aware of how quickly I’m breathing.

“You’re awake, aren’t you?” She says bluntly, breaking the stillness. “You saw my fucking nip-slip, didn’t you?”

My face instantly gives me away at her words. “Afraid so,” I reply, opening my eyes and squinting at her apologetically. “I was trying to protect your modesty.”

“Aw shucks, you’re all heart, aren’t you?” She snipes but with good humour. She unfolds herself from the bed and walks over to the kitchen area. “You want a croissant? They’re chocolate ones.”

“Sure.”

As she’s handing one to me, the apartment door swings open. “Sienna, I need to tell you . . .” Kate bounces into the room and stops abruptly when she sees me too. “Oh,” she says smugly. “It’s like

that

, is it?” She looks the pair of us up and down, adds two and two together and comes up with five.

“No, I think you’ll find that I had to rescue Joe from sleeping outside because you and Jack were making way too much noise,” Sienna snaps, an angry flush spreading over her face.

“Oh.” Kate’s hand flies to her mouth, looking a bit embarrassed. She glances at me. “Sorry Joe,” she adds. I shrug. “I didn’t realise we were being so loud.”

“Joe,” Sienna says pointedly. “If it happens again, you can feel free to have Kate’s bed again. Because it probably

will

happen again.” She marches over to the fridge and pulls out a can of Fanta, opening it while glaring confrontationally at her friend.

It’s

definitely

time for me to leave. “Look, I’ll take my croissant to go,” I say, picking up my other belongings. “I need to try to sort out a car for us anyway. Will I meet you at the pool in a couple of hours, Sienna?”

Her face softens as she smiles at me, gratefully, her blue eyes sparkling. “That sounds like a plan, thanks Joe.”

She’s so bloody cute. I’m in such dangerous territory here.

Right now, I can’t seem to care though.

Chapter 9

Sienna

Left alone with me, Kate turns to me and sighs. “I’m sorry, Sienna,” she says softly. “I’ve been a shitty friend the last few days.”

I’m not letting her off the hook that easy. I nod. “You have.”

“I just – I got so caught up in Jack, I’ve not felt like this about anyone in so long. But I woke up this morning, and I realised I’d barely saw you in two days, hadn’t even bothered to check you were okay. And I know you hate being alone at the moment.” She bites her lip and looks pleadingly at me with her big brown eyes. “I’m here now, though. We’ll make it work somehow.”

I feel myself softening. “You really like Jack, don’t you?”

She flops backwards onto the bed, a goofy smile spreading across her face. “I do, I

really

do. I feel like it has the potential to be more than just a holiday romance.”

“Then don’t worry about it.” I shrug. “I appreciate the apology, Kate. I’m not going to lie, I’ve had a crappy couple of days, and you’ve really pissed me off. But I’m going to spend the rest of the holiday with Joe, so you’re off the hook.”

“So what’s going on there?” She asks curiously. “Are the two of you . . .?” She raises her eyebrows suggestively and smirks.

“Nope, we’re just friends,” I say firmly.

“He’s pretty gorgeous, though,” she smiles. “Don’t tell Jack this, but it was Joe I noticed first. Obviously, all water under the bridge now,” she adds quickly. “But when I first went over to them, it was Joe I had my eye on.

“He was friendly enough, but I could tell he wasn’t interested in me . . . I ended up chatting to Jack, and we hit it off immediately, so it all worked out for the best. Jack says that Joe might as well be a monk, though. He apparently just isn’t bothered with relationships anymore.”

Oh

really

? I’m curious about that. Because, despite his little speech last night, I know I’ve not been imagining the chemistry between me and him. I’ve never been the best at telling when a guy is attracted to me, but after what happened in the middle of the night, I feel sure he does.

But based on Kate’s words, even if I was to give up on my self-imposed guy ban to rebound firmly off Joe, he wouldn’t be up for it anyway.

This is what I’ve already told myself, but I’m now wondering why he doesn’t do relationships, if that is indeed the case.

“What’s going on inside your head?” Kate asks eagerly.

“I’m just wondering what his story is,” I reply. “I don’t know much about him yet. He’s way too good looking to not have girls throwing themselves at him. And he actually seems like a nice guy, too.”

“You like him,” Kate accuses, smiling.

(Yes, I admit, only to

myself

, though. I have a bit of a crush. But I’m keeping the reins tight on it, I’m not letting it get out of control.)

“All Jack said, and he was very vague, was that Joe had a bit of a bad history with relationships, so he doesn’t really get involved anymore.”

Curiouser and curiouser.

It’s

fine

, though. I’m not looking to get involved, and if we keep it strictly platonic, it means no awkwardness.

We both get ready and head down to the pool. Thankfully there are loads of free loungers and very few dickheads who have decided to lay out their towels in a prime position with no intention of using them until later on in the day. That drives me up the wall. So I’m glad that’s been one less thing to worry about on this particular holiday.

“Where are you and Joe meant to be going today?” Kate asks me as we bask in the mid-morning sunshine. Jack hasn’t appeared yet but Kate doesn’t seem to be expecting him for a while. Maybe he’s still trying to recover from their shaggathon last night.

“Fiskardo, I think.” It’s a picturesque fishing village to the north of the island. “Depends if he’s able to get a car hired successfully, obviously.”

“Yeah, it’s probably a bit far to walk,” she sniggers.

I swat her lazily with my nearest hand and, and close my eyes. I’m actually knackered due to my unsettled sleep . . . Weirdly enough though once Joe was there with me I slept far better. Maybe I felt

safer

?

About an hour later I feel a light touch on my shoulder. It’s the briefest of contact, a light swipe of one finger down my arm to get my attention, but I feel like all the nerve endings on my skin are vibrating. I open my eyes to see Joe perching on the neighbouring lounger, grinning at me.

What is he

doing

to me?

I’ve never really believed in lust at first sight. But Joe is quickly causing me to lose faith in my entire belief system.

His green eyes are twinkling. “I’ve got a car,” he tells me. “Do you want to go to Fiskardo now?”

I’m pretty sure I’d go

anywhere

with him.

Chapter 10

Joe

I’m on holiday, the sun is shining, and I’ve got a beautiful girl in the car beside me. What more could I need?

Just need to get the hang of driving on the wrong side of the car on the wrong side of the road. It goes against all my instincts, but I’m sure I’ll get used to it again in no time – it’s just a rite of passage when renting a car abroad, really.

“Do

you

drive?” I ask Sienna.

She shakes her head. “I

can

, but I

don’t

. I mean, I passed my test, but I’ve never actually had a car, and I never really liked driving, so I’ve barely driven since.” She smiles. “I could probably do it in an emergency, but even

then

, I would be reluctant.”

“Remind me not to get into any accidents around you,” I reply, only half-joking.

“I know, I’m a regular Mother Teresa,” she deadpans. “Speaking of not getting into accidents, I’m assuming you’re safe to drive without those, or are you already risking both our lives?” Reaching over, she lightly flicks the glasses in my shirt pocket.

“You’re in good hands, I only need them to see close up.” I say.

“Just thought I’d better check,” she laughs, leaning forward and fiddling with the radio. It’s tuned into what is presumably a local Greek station. “How old are you?” She asks suddenly.

“Ah, so you now think I must be ancient cos I need glasses to read?” I tease. “What age do you

think

I am?”

“I have literally no idea,” she replies. “I am absolutely useless at telling ages. I’d be the shittest bouncer ever; no one would actually get into the club because I would have to ID every single person in the queue. If I guessed, I’d probably just end up insulting you. Oh, wait, I know!” She exclaims, clapping her hands together. “What’s your birthday number one?”

“My what?”

“What was number one in the Top 40 the week you were born?” She explains patiently. “If you tell me that, then I can guess how old you are. It’s a unique talent of mine.”

I glance at her sceptically. “Really?”

She nods. “Yep.” Then she wrinkles her nose and sniggers. “Well, I can

guess

, but I didn’t say I’d necessarily get it

right

.”

I can’t help but laugh. Now she’s let her guard down a bit, Sienna is really funny. “I tell you what, I’ll look it up later, and then you can guess, okay? So what’s

your

birthday number one then?”

“Joe, you know you’re not meant to ask a lady her age, right?” She sticks her tongue out at me, then relents. “Do you remember that La Bamba song? That’s mine.” She hums it quietly but enough for me to vaguely recall it.

“Ah yeah…” I’m pretty sure that was out in the late eighties, which must put her at a similar age to me. I take a mental note to look that up later, too.

“Forget horoscopes. You can tell a lot about a person from their birthday number one,” she says darkly. “I went out with an older guy for a bit who turned out to be a bit of an arsehole and his song was ‘Don’t Stand So Close to Me’ by the Police. And, trust me, by the end of

that

relationship, I didn’t want him anywhere bloody near me. Anyway, enough about my terrible relationship history.” She shudders and throws me a glance. “How about yours?”

“Sorry?” I pretend to concentrate on the road. Well, I am concentrating on the road, obviously, but I focus extra hard. Or at least

try

to.

“Your past relationships? I’m assuming you must have some bad stories to tell? Most of us do.” She sighs. “Don’t even get me started on the guy who signed himself up for a dating website a month before he broke up with me . . . And don’t ask me how I know that. I’m not proud.”

“I kinda want to ask,” I admit.

I also very much don’t want to talk about my relationship horror stories. Especially given the fact that I was probably the horror in them.

She’s momentarily distracted as she tells me – with more than a

hint

of pride actually – how she worked out the guy’s password and read all his messages, and I look for my opportunity to change the subject completely.

I realise I actually

do

want to tell her the truth, despite the fact that we barely know each other. But then she’s looking at me right now as if she likes me and respects me and thinks I’m a decent guy . . . And while I like to think that is the case

now

– and has been for a good few years – I don’t want her to start judging me based on my past, misguided actions.

She already thinks I seem familiar, though, and there’s a chance she might place me eventually. Would it be better just to be honest?

Or does it really matter when we’ve only got a few days to spend together and then we’ll never see each other again anyway?

And why does

that

thought, already, make me feel a bit sad?