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...
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 in to 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 skeptically. "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 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?
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What is Joe hiding???
And what's your birthday number 1? (Mine is Message in a Bottle by The Police)
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