Tom pulls me out of the water. I'm absolutely soaking, not to mention mortified. He's trying not to laugh but he isn't doing a very good job.
"Thanks," I grumble, and he laughs even more.
"I managed to save your book though," he says, grinning, and hands it to me.
"Thank God for that!" I shout, sarcastically, and smile at him.
It really is him. He's even more- pleasant to look at - than when I've seen him on stage. Silhouetted against the sunset, his eyes reflect the sparkle of the water and are looking right into mine. His hair is damp, and his top is slung over one bare shoulder. My eyes linger on his for a moment, then I remember to talk.
"Tom, right?"
The sparkle leaves his pupils and he sighs. "The band?"
I start to answer yes, then catch the bored look on his face. He looks down, as embarrassed as me.
"...What band?" I finally stutter. "I, er, saw you with your sister earlier and she called you Tom."
He lights up again, ignoring the band question. "You're Charlotte?" I nod. "I heard your mum say."
For some reason, I don't mind the "Charlotte" coming from his mouth. Usually I'd roll my eyes and say "Er, Lottie" but I didn't.
"Anyway, I'm sorry about the whole, you know, pool thing," he continues, his lips curling up at the sides as if he's trying to hold in a smile.
"It isn't funny," I laugh. "I'm freezing."
"Have this then, as an apology." Next thing I know, I'm wearing Tom Abisgold's t-shirt.
Mumbling thanks, I can tell I'm blushing. "So you're here for the week?"
"Two," he answers, still looking right at me, smiling.
"And me."
"You look familiar," he says, frowning, head on one side. Gig, I think. "Can't think why."
I shrug. "I don't know."
"I'm sure I would have remembered you, you're-" he stops. You're what?
The sun has almost gone down; the shadows are long on the poolside tiles. I can hear crickets in the long grass and the birds have almost finished their evening song.
Tom touches my arm. "You're still cold," he says. "We should go inside."
I follow him back to the door, my brain still not quite processing. Why didn't I tell him I'm a fan? And I'm still bloody embarrassed. First time meeting him and I fell. In. A. Pool.
So much for undying love - I'll be lucky if he ever speaks to me again.
He hums a song while we wait for the lift. It arrives. We get in. I AM IN A LIFT WITH TOM ABISGOLD. Sensing his gaze, I look up at him. My stupid wet hair keeps falling in front of my eyes. He reaches over - I flinch slightly, taking in a quick, quiet breath.
After what seems like at least a minute, he tucks the loose strands behind my ear. The contact makes me tense. His fingers are warm on my freezing skin. Finally he pulls back his arm and looks awkward, smiling at the floor. I CANNOT believe this is happening.
We leave the lift. Say something say something say something, I beg, either me or him, just say something. But then we reach a door, room 207.
"Well... this is me," he says. I start to pull off his t-shirt. He looks at me for a second then seems to shake himself. "Nah, you keep it. I'll have it off you tomorrow."
Tomorrow! The thought of seeing him again gives me goosebumps.
"Thanks," I smile. "Oh, and er, thanks for the book."
He grins. "Not a problem."
I hold out my hand; he looks confused then laughs and shakes it. "A pleasure to make your aquaintance, Charlotte." I cringe. A hand shake? A handshake?! What the hell is wrong with me? "The pleasure is all mine, Tom."
"See you then." He still hasn't let go of my hand, but then pulls it away and slips behind the door. I breathe out slowly. Wow. Wow wow wow wow.
"Toommmm!" I hear faintly from inside room 207. "Where've you been, huh? Chatting up those bikini girls?"
"God no," comes the reply. "Even better."
