Page 55 of That Island Feeling

‘So, give us the tea,’ Taylor says. ‘What happened?’

I lean against the kitchen counter, back arched and eyes starry as I recount our dreamy evening. The girls are hooked on every word.

‘It was honestly incredible. Like proper dream-holiday-fling stuff. He took me to this secluded spot called Pearl Cove and he had this entire picnic set up. We went for a dip and watched the sunset while he cooked the most delicious lobster.’

‘Wow, babe. Sounds even better than Maeve’s proposal,’ Grace exclaims.

‘Did he seem like he wanted to kiss you?’ Lizzie asks, getting straight to the point.

‘Well, that’s what’s confusing,’ I admit, my mind drifting back to our charged moment over the oyster. ‘At one point, it seemed like he wanted to. But then it was like something changed suddenly.’

‘Maybe he just got nervous?’ Taylor suggests.

‘He’s not exactly inexperienced,’ I say.

‘Sorry, I’ve been out of the game for too long – isn’t it normal not to kiss on the first date?’ Lizzie asks.

‘This wasn’t really a date . . .’ I trail off.

‘This is a holiday fling,’ Taylor emphasises. ‘Everything is sped up. The definition, by the way, is “two consenting adults enjoying each other’s company for the duration of a holiday”. It doesn’t follow the rules of a typical courtship. So the real question, Andie, is: did you enjoy yourself?’

That’s easier to answer than reciting my ABCs. ‘I did.’

‘Excellent. And did you want to jump his bones?’ Taylor continues.

Another easy one.

‘Yes.’

‘Right. Well, we have our next steps here – commence Operation: Get Andie Her Holiday Sex. We only have three more nights, girls, so we need to act fast.’

I start to protest, not at the sentiment behind Taylor’s words but at the group’s involvement in my sex life, when a voice bellows from outside the front door. ‘Hello? Anyone there?’

Glancing at the girls, all clad in their lingerie, I realise that I’m the most appropriately dressed person to greet whoever is at the door.

‘Hey, Andie.’

Charlie’s cheerful, bearded face beams back at me.

I blink. Has Jack sent him?

‘Food delivery,’ he says. ‘Can I put this down somewhere?’ My eyes travel to the two weighty-looking plastic bags dangling from each hand.

‘Oh, of course.’

‘Yes! Dinner!’ Grace exclaims, rushing forward to where Charlie has set the food bags on the table. She’s clearly not concerned about her scant attire.

I’m not in the least bit hungry, but the deliciously distinct aroma of caramelised onions has my mouth watering.

‘What did you guys order?’ I ask.

‘Burgers and fries,’ Lizzie says, tearing into one of the packages with the fervour of someone who has been drinking for hours.

‘And there’s one gluten-free burger with a lovely lettuce bun,’ Charlie says, eyes sparkling. I can see that he and Jack share a sense of humour. ‘Alrighty. Enjoy the feast, ladies.’ He disappears out the door.

Thankfully the boys are still in their boxer shorts when we return to the living room, arms laden with burgers, a tower of plates and a stack of napkins. They’ve abandoned their game of strip poker and have found our beauty supplies.

‘Why don’t they make this for our bits?’ Richie says, holding one of the vulva sheet masks away from his body and scrunching his nose as if it were a smelly shoe.

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