13. Chapter 13
Chapter thirteen
I spend the rest of the day hyper-aware of Niko. I have no idea how I missed him all morning but now he seems to be everywhere. Flashing me a smile from behind the bar when I return my plate and cutlery. At the front of the boat when I walk up for the view, offering to take my photo. At the top of the ladder, his hand stretched out to help me back on board when I return from swimming.
I try to play it cool but inside I have butterflies and find myself constantly distracted and caught up in my head. Do I have food in my teeth? Is my sunscreen rubbed all the way in? Is my hair frizzy in the sea and the sun? Is my waterproof mascara working? Are my boobs staying in the plunging neckline of my swimsuit?
If Charlotte and Diana notice that I’ve suddenly become a nervous wreck, they don’t say.
As our day comes to an end, we re-enter the Rhodes port. The orange glow of the late-day sun drapes across the Old Town walls, making everything appear a little softer. A little dreamier.
Charlotte, Diana and I wait on the upper deck as the crew ties off at the docks. Keeping clear of the crowd as they rush to disembark. After a few minutes, the bottom level has emptied and we make our way down the stairs. I shove a 10 euro note in the wooden box by the plank, the cheery smiley face drawn on it thanking me for contributing to tips for the crew, before walking across the plank.
Unsurprisingly, Niko is waiting at the other end. His hand at the ready to help me step back onto solid ground.
“Wait a minute?” he asks me.
I nod.
Charlotte and Diana both give me knowing smiles before stepping in to give me a goodbye hug. I return their hugs happily, grateful for their company today and promise to keep in touch and let them know if I ever come to London. “Have fun,” Charlotte winks before looping her arm through Diana’s and wandering away from the port and out of sight.
A couple of minutes later, Niko is back.
“What are your plans now?”
“I have none,” I answer honestly, conscious of the fact that I don’t actually have any plans, but worried I might somehow seem desperate by not having any either.
“You will get dinner with me.” It should be a question, but the way he says it so assuredly makes it seem like it’s a statement.
Niko names a taverna and quickly types the address into my phone.
“I will see you at 9, I need to finish here.” He nods towards the boat where the rest of the crew is cleaning up now that all the guests have gone.
I agree and head back to the hotel to change.
I breeze quickly through the doors and into the lobby, my flip-flops slapping loudly on the stone floors, echoing off the walls. I startle Christopher’s dad, who is sitting quietly behind the desk. Feeling guilty for disturbing his peace, but not guilty enough to slow down, I flash him a quick wave, earning a nod in acknowledgement as I speed-walk by.
Dumping my bag on the floor, I head straight for the shower. I blast the warm water and scrub at my skin in an effort to peel off the multiple layers of sunscreen I applied throughout the day. I had washed my hair this morning so I settle for a rinse and conditioner as I hurriedly slide my razor over my legs, mindful of time slipping away. It’s certainly not the best job I’ve ever done, but it will have to do.
Hair wrapped in a towel, I dig through my suitcase trying to figure out what to wear. A dress? Pants? Do I have a clean top? I should have done laundry, I’m running low on clean, well, everything.
In the end, I decide on my cleanest option, a marigold yellow sundress. I brush out my slightly damp hair and run some argan oil through it. I don’t have time to properly blow dry it so I pray to the hair gods of Greece that it doesn’t get frizzy. When it comes to makeup I opt to keep it simple; a quick application of eyeshadow and bronzer. I swipe on two coats of mascara and opt for tinted lip balm instead of actual lipstick.
Slipping on my new leather sandals that I bought with Sophia, I take a quick look in the mirror.
“Shit!”
While I looked in the mirror to see myself, all I can focus on is the mess behind me. In my rush to get ready, my suitcase has exploded across the room. Clothes are strewn everywhere. My laundry bag is spilling out over the chair and a pair of jeans are draped precariously on the edge of my bed, one leg trailing on the floor.
I can’t bring Niko back to this!
Do I want to bring Niko back?
Oh god. What am I doing?
With a frustrated groan, I grab everything and dump it into my suitcase. It barely fits but I push it beside the tall wooden dresser, hoping that - if I do bring him back - he doesn’t notice. I run my hand quickly over the bedspread to smooth it out, then grab my purse and room key from the bedside table before heading out the door.
Niko is already at the taverna when I arrive. He’s picked one tucked in a little courtyard, a couple of blocks away from the main square. Like many of the other tavernas here, it is decorated with blossoming bougainvillaea. This one also has tiny fairy lights wrapped around the white-painted beams that cover the dining area. The lights are soft, giving the illusion of a star-filled sky above. The best way to describe it is romantic. It’s exactly the kind of restaurant I had daydreamed about.
Niko stands when he sees me. Pulling out the blue-painted wooden chair. I inwardly sigh in relief when I notice the seat of the chair is smooth, not the typical straw seat cover. I’ve learned the hard way over my time here that those dig into the back of my thighs, leaving painful indents on my bare skin where it touches. Given that my dress tonight is on the shorter side, I’m grateful that I won’t have to worry about that.
Niko has already ordered a carafe of white wine and quickly pours me a glass when he sits back down. Soon a server is at our table ready to take our order. I don’t have a menu but Niko rattles off the names of a few Greek dishes before clapping the server on the back with a hearty “efcharistó”.
“I ordered the best things,” Niko tells me, picking up his glass to take a sip of the wine. “You will love it.”
While part of me is happy to have a local take control of the menu and tell me the best things to try, I’m also a little put off at how he did it. What if I had allergies? What if there was something I adamantly didn’t like? I push my annoyance aside and turn the conversation to him.
Niko, I learned, is actually from the mainland. Like many other young Greeks, he comes down to the islands to work in the summer months during the high tourist season. He worked in hotels and restaurants on various islands when he was younger but has since moved on to work for tour companies. It’s his first season in Rhodes with this one. When I ask him how he likes it, he shrugs.
“Honestly? Not so much. It’s a lot of work. Long days. I don’t love the sea and I would rather work on land. But I wanted to come to Rhodes so I thought I would try for the season. Ah look! The food.”
Our server comes back with several different plates.
Potatoes (French fries to me.)
Souvlaki.
Greek Salad.
Yemistas.
Saganaki cheese.
Our server names them all as he places them in front of us and I’m pleased to note that I like everything in front of me. It also means I’ve already tried them. Niko’s picks, while delicious, are very typical. While I do like his choices, I find myself again wishing I could have ordered for myself. I have so much more to try here in Greece and my time here is limited. Plus, I’m in the islands. I would have loved some seafood.
Stop it! I mentally chide myself. I’m in Greece and a gorgeous man has asked me to dinner. Just go with it. I push the frustrated thoughts out of my head and thank Niko as we dig in.
The conversation throughout dinner is mostly one-sided. I’m still a little nervous but Niko doesn’t seem to notice and is quick to talk and fill in any silence. Mostly, he talks about himself and his experiences in Greece. While he was born and raised in Thessaloniki, he’s spent his summers for the last 10 years on various islands. Like Evie, he describes Mykonos as too much of a party scene.
“It was fun in my early 20s,” he admits. “But even working there, it’s party, party, party every night. Too much.” He shakes his head as he plucks the last potato off the plate and pops it into his mouth. Chewing thoughtfully, he asks me where I’m going after Rhodes.
“Symi,” I tell him, “I met a friend in Santorini who told me about it. It looks amazing so I want to spend a few days there.”
The look on his face, however, tells me that he has a differing opinion.
“What? You don’t like Symi?”
“No, no, no,” Niko leans back in his chair, both hands on the table, his fingers lightly drumming the painted wood surface. His light hair looks golden under the fairy lights and I think back to Charlotte referring to him as Adonis. Clearly, she’s not the only one who thinks so as I notice three other women in the restaurant staring at him. Niko, either oblivious or perhaps just used to the attention, pays them no mind as he continues.
“It’s cute. Symi is cute. For a day trip, yes, ok. But for you, I think maybe you will find it boring. It’s very quiet. Especially this time of year. Not many young people go to stay.”
I bristle a little at the ‘for you’ comment coming from someone who just met me and has spent most of the meal speaking about himself. But I let it slide.
“Hmm. Well, if I don’t like it I can always leave early and come back here.”
That gets a wide smile out of him as our server clears our table and places two little shot glasses in front of us, each one filled with a clear liquid. Looking each other in the eyes, we both say ‘yamas’ before tilting our heads back and downing the shots. Tonight’s is different than the one I had with Evie, harsher, with a black licorice flavour. I wrinkle my nose causing Niko to laugh at my reaction.
“Ouzo,” he tells me. “You have probably had mastika before, I think? That is more common.”
Before I can offer to split the bill, Niko has called the server over and pressed some cash in his hand. Another friendly slap on the shoulder and a few exchanged words in Greek, Niko turns his attention back to me.
“Ready?”
I nod and push back my chair.
Niko reaches for my hand. I hesitate for a second, but give it to him. Once again noticing the amount of attention Niko is getting from the women around us. The attention that is now also on me. I see a few women look me up and down and I try to quell thoughts of what they might be thinking. That I’m not skinny enough, pretty enough, good enough to be holding hands with a man who looks like this.
Keeping my eyes ahead, I follow Niko as he leads me away from the Taverna and down one of the side streets. Now that we are alone, the nerves that quieted down during dinner are starting to stir again. All I can think about is ‘what next?’
It doesn’t take long for me to get an answer.
Rounding another corner, Niko brings us to a very small, very quiet, very empty, residential-looking street where he stops and faces me.
“You are so sexy, Calla,” he murmurs, his hand releasing mine to brush my hair behind my ear before he leans in to kiss me.
His kiss starts soft and gentle and my arms raise in response, looping around his neck as I kiss him back.
Ok. This is… nice.
Actually, this is really nice.
I can do this.
I can absolutely make out with a super-hot Greek man in the middle of the street.
Slowly he backs me up against the wall. The cool, rough stone against my back is a harsh contrast to the warmth of his body pressing against my front. His kiss deepens and his hands trail down the sides of my body, coming to rest on my hips.
My breath hitches a little as he touches me. The nervous butterflies start to stir again.
Niko doesn’t notice the change and instead begins to escalate our backstreet make-out session. Slowly inching up the skirt of my dress and before I know it, his hand is on my upper thigh, tracing circles on my bare skin.
The sound of a door opening disturbs the otherwise quiet street. Niko pulls away from me to look and I peek over his shoulder to see a tall, dark haired man leaving one of the buildings. He catches sight of us and pauses for a moment, looking back and forth between Niko and I. Niko ignores him and turns back to me but the stranger’s eyes hold mine for a moment as if in question.
While I am embarrassed to be caught like this, I understand what he’s silently asking and dip my chin in confirmation that this, in fact, consensual. The man turns away, disappearing quietly around the corner.
As his footsteps fade away, Niko draws me closer.
“Calla,” he breathes into my neck, pressing his lips to that sensitive space behind my ear. “Where’s your hotel?”
At his words, I freeze.
The warmth I was feeling dissipates, the butterflies in my stomach change into full-blown nerves, and my thoughts spiral.
I think of Sophia warning me about Greek men who work on the islands in the summer and how they love to seduce tourists.
Is that what is happening now?
Was I just an easy target because I was the only younger, single female on the boat?
Does he even like me or does he assume I’m just desperate and an easy lay?
How could he like me? He didn’t even take the time to know me.
Hell, I don’t even know him.
That’s when I realize. I can’t sleep with him.
As much as I thought I wanted to earlier, now that I’m here, now that I’ve spent time with him, this isn’t what I want. He isn’t what I want.
I break off our kiss.
“Niko, I just met you.”
“So?” he leans back in, nuzzling my neck. “I like you, you like me. Let’s get off the street and go to your hotel.”
Gently I push him back and look him in the eye. “No, not tonight.”
He pauses for a moment and, on seeing how serious I am, backs off, his hand dropping away from me as he steps back to give me space.
“Ok. If that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
Niko nods and walks me back to the main square. He doesn’t say anything but I can tell he’s disappointed.
Still, he flashes me a smile before taking his leave.
“Call me if you change your mind. You have my number.”
I tell him I will, then watch him walk off into the crowd, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he goes. The night is young here in Greece. He has lots of time to find someone else.
I, on the other hand, am done for the night and walk back to the hotel where I go to bed.
Alone.