Page 62 of It's All Sun and Games

‘Erm, yeah, we showed him,’ I reply. ‘Come on, let’s go inside.’

Inside, to my apartment, where we are now supposed to share a bed.

Oh, boy.

26

I wake up in bed, my senses gradually kicking in as I realise that it is the warmth from Andrea’s body that’s woken me up so sweaty. Somehow, in the depths of the night, in my sleepy state, I’ve taken it upon myself to cuddle up to him, because of course I have.

Last night, slipping into bed with Andrea, it felt like stepping onto the set of Too Hot to Handle. Whatever I felt with Andrea last night – whatever that was outside in the garden – was really something. There was… something between us, this undeniable chemistry, something that felt impossible to ignore.

And now I’m here, in the bright light of day, with nowhere to hide, quite literally glued to him by sweat, wondering what the hell any of it means. I would love to know what he’s thinking but that seems like a big ask when I don’t even know what I’m thinking myself.

With the morning sun casting an ever-intensifying warm glow through the curtains, and me here absolutely boiling my skin off, I reluctantly untangle myself from Andrea’s embrace – and I do so in a way that hopefully won’t wake him up, because things will be a lot less awkward if he doesn’t realise that we seemingly spent the night snuggling.

In some places, pulling the bare parts of my skin from his feels a bit like ripping off a plaster, but I manage to get out of bed without waking him, deciding to step out onto the balcony, hoping there is a breeze to cool me down.

The floor out on the balcony burns my feet, so I grab my Crocs from the doorway to protect them. It feels like it’s going to be a scorcher; there’s no breeze, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t anything frosty – I jump out of my skin when I notice James, sitting on his balcony, drinking a cappuccino. He doesn’t look happy.

‘Good morning,’ I say cheerfully.

‘Morning,’ he replies, his tone serious.

‘How are?—’

‘I saw you and Andrea getting pretty heated out in the garden last night,’ James talks over me.

He’s looking at me like he expects a reply. What’s a girl supposed to say to a comment like that?

I don’t need to worry about it because, just a few seconds later, Andrea sneaks up behind me, snaking his arms around my waist, hugging me from behind. I’m wearing the vest top and knickers that I slept in – I can only assume he’s still wearing a pair of his trademark tight boxers.

‘Buongiorno, amore,’ Andrea says before he plants a kiss on my shoulder – turning the Italian up to the absolute max.

‘Good morning,’ I reply, wiggling back into his embrace – for show, I think.

Then Andrea pretends that he is just noticing James and the look on James’s face is really something.

‘Oh, James, buongiorno,’ Andrea says. ‘I didn’t notice you.’

‘Yeah, well, I need to go get ready,’ James says. ‘It sounds like Rick has some sort of physical activity planned for us today, Robin.’

‘He invited me too,’ Andrea tells him excitedly. ‘It sounds like we might be competing. Che vinca il migliore.’

‘What does that mean?’ James replies.

‘May the best man win,’ Andrea tells him.

James looks like he’s just been kicked in the shorts. He heads inside without saying another word.

‘Do you think we’ve taught him a lesson?’ Andrea asks me quietly, backing away from me now that it’s just the two of us.

‘I think we have,’ I reply. ‘Now, if you can just find a way to put Liz in her place, I think I might die happy.’

‘Well, I don’t want you to die, but I do want you to be happy,’ he adds with a laugh. ‘Let’s work together today, see if we can win this competition – whatever it is.’

Andrea heads inside, laughing to himself, as though he can’t quite believe how well this is working.

Neither can I. It might be working too well, actually.

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