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 mom...
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 chiseled 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 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 Iwould 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."
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What do you think of Joe? And would you agree to spend the rest of your holiday with a stranger?
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