Ruby Rafferty has won the ultimate prize - a luxury holiday in Crete! In theory, it couldn't be more perfect - endless sun, Greek food, an unlimited free bar . . . There's only one problem.
The man she has no choice but to share the prize with.
Lewi...
"What do you want to do tonight?" I ask him a few hours later as we laze next to our pool. The cloudless sky is the purest of blues, the sun seemingly determined to scorch us. I'm grateful for that breeze I mentioned earlier because it would be almost impossible to lie here if it wasn't also present to help keep us cool.
It's strange how much has changed in the short space of a week. I think of how horrified I was when I saw that itinerary, realising I was going to be forced to spend time with Lewis whether I liked it or not. But here we are with a free day, an opportunity to not spend time together . . . And we're voluntarily doing the opposite.
I'm finding that I actually love his company, far more than I would ever have imagined. His jokes seem funnier now that I realise they're not always at my expense. I'm impressed by his intelligence and warmed by the kindness I always chose to ignore in the past. And my attraction to him - the same attraction I've been wrestling for such a long time - seems to be growing stronger by the minute.
It's more than a little terrifying, and the pessimist in me is just waiting for the bubble to burst. I'm trying so hard not to dwell on that, though. To just live in the moment for a change.
Lewis rolls onto his side, raising himself on an elbow. "Why don't we go over to Malia?" he suggests, reaching over to trail a gentle finger along my arm. Despite the intense heat, his touch still causes a happy shiver to echo throughout my body.
I make a face. "Malia? Really?" Malia is a few miles away and is the "party" resort of Crete; the main destination for youths who want nothing more than to drink shots until six in the morning and then puke in a bin. Very classy place! There's a long strip of pubs, clubs, and restaurants leading down towards the beach, probably slightly more tired than it once was back in its heyday.
"Are you being a snob?" Lewis says teasingly.
"Look, the one other time I came to Crete, I stayed in Malia. I was in my mid-twenties, so probably already a bit old for it, but it was the only resort I could afford at the time. It was just not my sort of place." I barely contain a shudder: maybe Lewis is right about me being a snob!
"Surely it wasn't that bad?" His nose wrinkles sceptically.
"It was pretty grim," I confirm. "The apartments we stayed in were only slightly better than the ones in 'The Inbetweeners Movie'. We'd be woken up in the early hours every day by the young team returning from their various nights out and then continuing to party. And the flight itself was horrendous."
"Worse than being stuck beside the guy you hate for four and a half hours?" he jokes. "Surely not?" I shoot him a warning look: a reminder that I don't hate him after all.
"It was an early morning flight full of boisterous teenagers who were already tipsy," I recall with a grimace. "There was a bunch of them just hanging about in the aisle, creating a bit of a bad atmosphere, and eventually, the chief flight attendant had to make an announcement to get them to sit back down. She added at the end of it: 'This is not a bar. This is a plane,' in this totally deadpan tone. It was my favourite part of the whole flight." I start giggling despite myself. "Then this wee voice pipes up a few rows back: 'Aye, if it was a bar, we could actually afford the booze', and half the plane cracked up."
Lewis joins in with the laughter. "Sounds like a classic Glasgow flight," he nods when we've recovered. "But don't you think it might be good to go back to Malia and replace your crappy experience with a far nicer memory?"
"How do you know it will be better, though?" I ask. My turn to be sceptical.
He smiles, and the sweetness contained within that curve of his mouth makes me slightly dizzy. It's one thousand times better than the patented Sheridan Smirk I've been used to for so long. "Because you'll be with me." He squeezes my hand lightly. "And I'll make sure of it."
My heart is currently trying to compress itself into a heart emoji shape. I could so easily fall for this man, this upgraded model of Lewis Sheridan. I'm desperate to believe he's for real, but I'm still too paranoid to let my guard down completely. It's as if the version of Ruby who felt so betrayed by him when we met again as adults is still whispering in my ear, telling me this is all a massive prank. That he doesn't really care for me; it's all just a game. And by this point, I'm almost certain she's wrong, but her warnings are still making me wary.
"Okay, let's do it," I nod. "But you'd better make it fun." His eyes sparkle at that, a challenge brought to life.
"I promise I will. You can consider it a thank you for letting me see you in my new favourite swimsuit again." He nods towards the infamous item of swimwear from our first full day here.
"This old thing?" I wink, posing coyly on my lounger. "I figured I should bring it out of retirement. Should I make it the first entry on my very own 'How to Entice Lewis' list?"
"Well, please remember that I prefer it see-through: I suggest we jump in the pool first before you add it to your list," he chuckles, standing up and pulling me to my feet. After we've cannonballed into the water, he pushes me back against the wall and kisses the life out of me, and I realise it's been a really long time since I've felt this fucking happy and carefree.
This vacation, the one I was dreading so much, has somehow managed to transform itself into the best week of my life. The guy I thought was my nemesis has morphed into someone who is becoming increasingly precious and special to me.
But we only have a few more days left in this paradise.
And the one thing I know for sure is that I'm nowhere near ready to return to reality.
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