Page 77 of That Island Feeling

‘I may have had an overnight guest, yes,’ I confirm, feeling my cheeks burn.

We’re way past the safe-sex talk, but I’m still not particularly keen on getting into my sex life with him. Thankfully, all he does is wink.

‘Why don’t I go grab a quick shower before I head over to your mum’s?’ he suggests, expertly changing the subject.

‘Perfect. I need to give your place a quick once-over while the boys are out on a fishing trip. Help yourself to anything in there. I just made a fresh citrus shower gel.’

‘Of course you did. What can’t you do, son?’ Keith says with affection, turning towards the bathroom before swinging back to me, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. ‘Oh, and where do you keep the golf clubs? We might be needing them for a smashing spree soon.’

It’s a fucking pigsty in here. I’ve traded the lingering sweet scent of Andie and oranges for stale beer and fast food at Keith’s place. The countertops are strewn with crumpled beer cans and discarded Charlie Farleys takeaway containers, and there’s broken glass in the sink. I shudder at the thought of the state of the bedrooms, with their tangles of smelly, crunchy sheets.

I sidestep a brown sticky splotch on the floor and make a beeline for the dining table, now marked by a fresh red wine stain. A bottle of wine sits next to a note scrawled on the lid of a pizza box.

Sorry about the mess, mate.

Enjoy this drop on us.

At least that’s something. I grab the wine bottle, finding it surprisingly light – evidently, there’s only a few sips left. Right. Now they’ve really pissed me off.

I fire off a text to Tom. He’s taken the boys out fishing, but I don’t care if he’s driving the boat.

What sort of bond did you collect from your mates?

Bond?

His reply comes instantly. They must be anchored somewhere.

To fix the damage they’re inevitably going to cause at Keith’s place.

Ah, shit. Didn’t think of that.

Of course he hasn’t.

Right, well, you owe me. I’ll take exclusive access to The Oyster House tonight.

I close our text thread and tap on Andie’s contact, finding a message already waiting from her.

Is that paddleboard invitation a standing one? ;)

Chapter Thirty-two

ANDIE

It’s taken me until our second-last day to accept Jack’s paddleboarding offer. I didn’t know what his plans were for the day beyond watching the sunrise, but I decided to try my luck.

Holiday hook-up rule number eight: Play it cool.

I’m sure texting your fling within a few hours of leaving his bed and asking if he can take you and your three girlfriends paddleboarding is the opposite of playing it cool.

Honestly? I can’t bring myself to worry. Slowly but surely my nerves around Jack are disappearing, replaced by a growing ease. He still makes my heart flutter, but he also has a way of making me feel incredibly safe.

He explicitly stated that his invitation was just for me, but given how last night’s group dinner party basically served as foreplay for us, I have a strong suspicion he’ll agree to my request. Twenty minutes later, I get a message back.

The pleasure would be all mine. See you at Moorings beach at 2 p.m. x

Five minutes pass and my phone buzzes again.

Free later tonight? x

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