The Sun in My Eyes

7 Of Graft and Glowing

As the party wound down, some people made their way upstairs to change into pyjamas, but then returned to the lawn, not quite ready to let the evening go. Bobby was not one of those people. He was sweaty and tired. The day had been more exhausting than he imagined and he wasn't used to the sweltering heat of Majorca. While everyone else did the standard gossip and graft, he went to investigate the showers. Behind the daybed area there were two outside ones with clear glass doors, in case you wanted to really show off your shoe size. In the upstairs bathroom there was a bathtub with no curtain, and three more shower stalls with clear doors. One was a huge communal shower with a central shower head. Were they taking the piss? Because that communal one wasn't happening.

The others were smaller and designed for one person, though they were roomy enough to fit a couple. He climbed into the one that ran deep into the wall. Tilting the shower head, he discovered that if he stood all the way in the back, he could still get a good scrub without his freckled arse being shown on national telly. He'd probably lose that shyness as he got more comfortable with the cameras, but for now he wasn't ready to show his...situation to the entire villa.

After showering, he slid on his favorite pajama pants with slices of cake printed all over them. He grabbed the pillow with his name embroidered on it and searched for an unclaimed bed. He threw the pillow down on the first one he found, and dropped onto his back.

Priya wandered in from the dressing room in a silky purple nightie. "Hey," she said as she passed by and stretched out like a lioness on the bed two down from his. He could feel her eyes on him. "You didn't come see me," she said.

"Sorry. Seemed a bit crowded."

She nodded. "Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did."

"Ha." She threw her hair over her shoulder. "Seriously though."

He sat up and grinned. "You're way too gorgeous to talk to me, but I'm not stupid enough to stop you."

She giggled and gave him a flirty look. "What's your type?"

"Right to it, eh?"

"I don't think there'll be a lot of alone time around here," she said. "Can't waste a moment."

"Are we having a moment?" he asked, giving her a smirk.

She smirked right back. "You tell me."

He shrugged and rubbed a hand over his mouth. "My type would be...I like, uh..." He trailed off as Lili tiptoed out of the dressing room. She had changed into a funny set of pajamas, at odds with her earlier sexy outfit; a baggy #Cherrygate t-shirt and a pair of loose shorts that said #TeamJake across one thigh. Scrubbed clean of makeup, she wore a pair of black framed glasses similar to Gary's, though they certainly looked better on her. Her hair was still in those messy buns high on her head, wisps of curls floating around her face. Without all of the artifice she was even lovelier.

He swallowed. Had she heard him talking to Priya? Did she think that he was grafting? Her expression told him nothing. "Sorry to interrupt," she whispered, giving them a soft smile. Turning on her pretty bare feet (Jesus, what was it with him and her feet?) she disappeared down the stairs.

"Bobby?"

"Hmm?" He tried to remember what he'd been saying. "Sorry. What was the question?"

Priya laughed. "I asked about your type. But never mind. I think I have my answer." Heat stole over his cheeks and chest and she laughed even harder. "Oh, you're—" she thought a moment. "You're besotted!"