Page 61 of It's All Sun and Games

The moon casts a soft, silvery glow over the tranquil beach as we walk along it, making the gentle waves sparkle as they lap against the shore. The sky is so clear – I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many stars at once.

The ambient natural lighting, combined with the relaxing sound of lapping water, might just make this the most romantic situation I’ve ever been in.

‘Liz said something to me earlier,’ Andrea tells me.

Yep, that will kill the mood.

‘Oh?’ I reply simply. ‘What did she say?’

‘She took me to one side, alone, and said that she doesn’t like to judge, but that she thinks there is something going on between you and James, and that she doesn’t want to see me hurt,’ he recounts.

Oh, that is just so like Liz, to say that she doesn’t like to judge before instantly judging – and probably loving it.

‘That is classic Liz, trying to mess things up for me,’ I reply, laughing to myself (because I know how pathetic it really is), and I shake my head. ‘Liz and I are rivals – whether I want to be or not – in all kinds of ways, and one of those ways is fighting for James’s attention. Back home, for as long as I’ve known him, James hasn’t really given me the time of day, not workwise or personally. I even asked him out, a few times, and he would just dismiss me, wouldn’t even entertain me – and you know the old thing of “treat them mean, keep them keen”? It’s definitely a thing, sadly. But here, now, he’s like a different man. He’s so jealous of you, to the point where it’s making him pay attention to me like he never has before – and that’s a double win because not only does he finally see me, but Liz can see him seeing me, and it’s making her so annoyed. Plus, Liz and James are working together on their pitch, and James seems way too distracted to do a good job, so it’s just win win win win to me, you know?’

Understanding English as a second language must be tricky enough but, when it’s the drunken ramblings of a crazy girl, it must be even more difficult.

I glance at Andrea, catching his cheeky smile, and I can’t help but return it.

‘I understand,’ he tells me. ‘James is crazy to have dismissed you like that. Robin, you are amazing. And if making James jealous is helping you then, great, I will do more of that.’

‘You’re just an absolute dreamboat, aren’t you?’ I blurt.

‘Grazie,’ he says simply. ‘If you’re still interested in learning Italian, you would reply: “prego”.’

‘Erm, I think it will be a while before I give Italian another go, thank you,’ I quickly insist.

As we near the apartment, Andrea yawns dramatically.

‘I am so tired,’ he announces. ‘I’ll go into the hotel, to see if they can call me a taxi. I’ve definitely had too much to drink to drive this evening.’

‘You can stay with me,’ I am quick to offer – too quick, maybe.

I sound super keen but, come on, with everything he’s doing for me…

‘It’s the least I can do,’ I tell him. ‘Plus, come on, we’re technically engaged. It’s not a big deal, for the two of us to share a bed.’

‘You make a good point,’ Andrea replies. ‘Okay, grazie. I suppose I would be coming straight back in the morning, for whatever it is that Rick has planned.’

‘I dread to think,’ I reply. ‘It sounded energetic – and not like something you would want to do with a hangover.’

As we walk through the garden, towards the villa, Andrea suddenly stops in his tracks and turns to face me. His gaze locks onto mine, and I can feel my heart rate quicken because I have no idea what he’s going to do, or what I want him to do. My imagination isn’t just running away with me, it’s trying to unfasten my bra.

All at once, Andrea steps towards me, scoops me up in his arms, and pulls me close to him. I instinctively (and, let’s be real, optimistically) wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. He pushes me back, against a tree, and then presses his body on mine. His lips find their way to my neck but, instead of kissing me, he puts them right up against my ear.

‘Don’t say anything, or do anything, or look,’ he says firmly. ‘But James is on his balcony, looking down, watching us, so I thought I would give him a show – or what he thinks is a show, anyway.’

Oh, that’s… that’s… sort of a let-down. Oh my God, why am I thinking that? I think it’s just because he’s gorgeous, and he has moves, and he is (and this is the crucial word of the statement) acting like an absolute dream of a fiancé. I’m just under his spell. It isn’t a let-down, it’s good, this is good. He’s playing the game. James will be furious.

‘Ruin his night,’ I whisper to Andrea.

Of course, nothing is actually happening between us, just some simulated heavy petting in the bushes, but, weirdly, it doesn’t not feel real either. I bury my head into his chest as we – how do I describe this – just get a bit armsy with each other. Andrea uses his hips to hold me in place, pressing me against the tree. God, why does he smell so good? And feel so good! His muscular frame, his soft hair, his hard – whoa, okay, what am I doing? I’m getting way too into this. This whole thing is supposed to be a game but, right now, I don’t feel like I’m playing. I look up to the balcony, where James was (the supposed only reason we’re doing this) and see that he’s gone.

‘He’s not there,’ I tell Andrea, noticing how breathy my voice is.

He steps back, looking a little flustered too. I suppose, probably thanks to all the drinks we have had this evening, at some point while we were pretending to get it on, human nature just kicked in, and we got carried away.

‘I guess it worked,’ Andrea says, semi-victoriously – perhaps semi isn’t the word I should be using right now.

---