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...
It's my last full day with Joe and I'm not sure my brain is ready to accept it.
When he leaves to get the car from Argostoli I find myself already missing him which doesn't bode well. Maybe I should have ran with him? Wrung out every bit of time I possibly could with him?
Who am I kidding though; my whole body is sore just from walking up that hill yesterday, even if I could run there's no way I'd be able to do so today.
We've agreed a lazy day by the pool would be good after our adventures of the last few days, so I pack up my beach bag and head down to the pool while he's away, laying out his towel on the lounger next to mine and closing my eyes. I'm trying not to think of the time limit on our fling but I feel like there's a countdown flashing on the top right hand side of my vision, even when I close my eyes.
I must drift off to sleep though because when I wake up, he's sitting on his lounger, gazing into space. I can't help but smile that he's back. "You okay?" I ask curiously. He snaps out of his trance and nods vigorously.
"Absolutely.'
He grins at me but the smile doesn't quite meet his eyes. I reach out and squeeze his hand, tightly.
Kate and Jack appear not long after and join us. Is this officially about to be the longest my best friend and I have spent together all holiday? On the last day? God, I'm so glad I found Joe!
Joe and Jack head up to the pool bar for some booze (it's only 11am but it's our last day, give me peace!) and Kate turns to me. "So what's happening with you guys?" She asks nosily.
I screw up my face in response. "Holiday fling, that's all."
"You don't seem sure," Kate says keenly.
"In a perfect world, maybe it would be different." I try my best to be nonchalant. "But I'm barely over Greg and Joe isn't looking for a relationship so it's not going to work out."
"You just said you're 'barely over Greg'" Kate points out eagerly. "So you areover him?"
"Huh." I'm taken aback. I replay my own words in my head. "I guess I am."
The problem is I've just swapped one hopeless infatuation with another. And, much like I did with Greg, I've pretty much clung onto Joe like a life jacket. With Greg it was loneliness after initial lockdown that made me clasp on too tight; and now Joe has filled a similar type of metaphorical hole when Kate abandoned me here.
Anyway, I'm still on holiday and I don't want to over- think things. Let me just psycho-analyse myself tomorrow once I'm back home with only a blanket, rhubarb gin, and my tears to keep me company on the couch.
The brothers have returned from the bar. It's nice to see them laughing and joking with one another when I know their relationship hasn't always been easy. It must be hard to both go through the same experience with such different outlooks. Joe places a bottle of Kopparberg in my hand with a wink.
"Good choice, it's practically fruit juice," I praise him, taking a nice big gulp of it.
"Listen," he says quietly, presumably so Kate and Jack don't overhear. "I know this is going to sound a bit crazy as we've kinda been doing this anyway but since it's our last night together tonight . . . Can I take you on a date?"
"So what makes it different from what we've been doing already?" I ask blankly.
His green gaze focuses intently on me. "I'll actually plan something rather than us just saying 'let's meet in the pool bar at seven and we'll go from there'," he replies, dimples popping as a cheeky smile spreads across his face. "And maybe I'll even come and pick you up."
"How romantic," I tease. His smile slips momentarily then comes back somehow brighter.
"So what do you think?"
"Sure." I nod. I take another sip of my cider before placing it down on the ground next to my lounger and closing my eyes again.
Later I'm back in my apartment, make- up and hair already done, trying to decide what to wear, while also trying to re-pack my suitcase. Turns out living out of your suitcase is all fun and games until it's just a big tangled mass of wrinkled clothing. I finally locate the dress I've been hunting for, a violet lacy skater dress, and slip it on.
I'm feeling a sweaty, stressed mess as I hear a knock at the door, and I march over to open it, holding my sandals in my hand.
"Hey..." The words die on my lips and I drop my shoes as I look up at him. It's like I forget how handsome Joe is every time I'm away from him.
He's wearing jeans and a slim fitting black shirt, sleeves rolled up of course. (Mmmm, arms.) He's also already wearing his glasses. As my eyes linger lustfully, he pushes them up and says "my eyes are tired" in explanation. But he smirks as he says it and I know, just know, he's wearing them because he knows how much I like them.
Well played.
He holds out a bar of Milka and a bottle of prosecco. "I thought about bringing flowers but I somehow had a feeling you'd appreciate these more."
"You were right." I'm not a massive fan of flowers as a gift. I hold both items close to me and inhale deeply. "Oh Joe, they smell amazing," I joke, winking at him, and he laughs. "Let me see if I can find a vase." I slide them into the fridge and straighten up.
"You look gorgeous." He's studying me from head to toe as I turn back around. There's a new look in his eyes this time . . . The heat is there but so is the softness. "I want to fuck you senseless" combined with "but I really fucking like you too."
I'm melting and it's not just because of the excessively warm weather. "Thanks," I mumble, feeling myself blush under his appraisal. I sit down on the bed to fiddle about with my sandals. Why are the straps and buckles always so awkward? My hands suddenly feel like mittens and won't do what I want them to do.
"Let me help." He sinks to his knees in front of me and, before I can protest, grasps one of my ankles, easily slipping the strap through and securing it. His fingers lightly run along my foot for a moment and my breath catches at the touch.
He moves onto my other foot and quietly I observe him as he concentrates on his task, notice how long his lashes are behind the lenses of his glasses, that he's biting his full bottom lip. I inhale his cologne, which smells so fresh and just so him.
I'm so busy watching him that I don't even realise he's buckled me successfully into the other sandal too until he looks up and meets my gaze. "That's you sorted," he says softly, after a long moment. He rises gracefully to his feet. "Ready to go?"
"Definitely."
Because ifwe don't leave now I'mgoing to jump on you.
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He asked her on an actual date . . . This is hopeful, right???
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