Chapter 27
27
The sun isn’t messing around today. It’s not even midday yet and it’s boiling, the kind of weather that makes you want to jump in the ice-cold pool – although you know you should probably be indoors or in the shade until it lets up a little.
Of course, we can’t do that, because we’ve got a competition to participate in, and if we can just win then next week we’ll get the nice, relaxing holiday we should have had this week. Speculate to accumulate – or something like that.
One thing I know for sure is that my hangover, from last night’s antics, really isn’t helping. I can actually feel my head throbbing. I’m sure everyone else feels the same, so at least it levels the playing field, but still. I’d rather not.
I practically chug water from my bottle, sucking it down for dear life, hoping it will fix me. Sadly, it’s just water, not a miracle hangover cure, but I know that my body needs it right now, even if what I would prefer is a strong coffee.
Lou, Nita and Willow – who, don’t get me wrong, are my friends, so I say this as kindly as I can – look like they’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards. The boys, on the other hand, are sitting across the firepit from us looking as fresh as daisies. I know they must be hungover though, they must be. They just wear it a lot better.
The show – or the competition rather – must go on. It’s our turn to choose an activity and Nita says she has it covered. She hasn’t told me what it is, but it’s something, so I guess we’re all going to find out together.
‘So, what’s the plan?’ I ask, leaning in close.
‘You’ll see,’ she practically warns me. ‘I’m having to make part of it up as I go along.’
‘Because that’s not terrifying at all,’ I whisper back.
She just smiles.
I look to Lou, who just about caught our conversation, and she shrugs.
The problem with Nita going rogue like this is that you really, really don’t know what crazy idea she’s cooked up. It could be anything – like seducing one of the boys. Thank God that one is out of the way now. I wasn’t exactly great at it, it turned into a bloody wrestling match, for crying out loud.
‘Come on then, don’t keep us in suspense,’ Harry prompts.
I secretly suspect he’s about to topple over – he must be, after the amount I saw him drink, but it’s well hidden behind his armour.
‘Yeah. We’re raring to go,’ Owen insists.
The only thing I’m raring for is a coffee, maybe a slice of toast, and a nap.
‘It’s a test of endurance,’ Nita announces, gesturing towards the pool like a glamorous assistant on an old game show. ‘See that thing in the middle of the pool, where the fountain sprays out? We’re turning off the fountain so that one boy and one girl can stand on the podium together. The last one standing wins!’
We all glance over at the small podium-type structure in the middle of the pool and there isn’t a ton of room for one person, never mind two. Is she serious right now?
The boys laugh, because of course they do, stupid ideas are their favourite kind.
‘Is that it?’ Harry asks in disbelief. ‘Because that would be an embarrassingly easy win for us.’
‘Yep, that’s it,’ Nita says simply. ‘So, who will it be?’
‘I’ll do it,’ Travis suggests, holding up his hand.
‘Fab,’ she replies, still cool as a cucumber. ‘Molly will be doing it for us.’
It takes every facial muscle I have to stop my eyebrows from shooting up. Me? I’d love to know the thought process behind choosing me for something that requires endurance and balance – the same me who manages to trip over a perfectly flat surface and then instinctively apologises to it.
Travis smiles at me – it’s that relaxed, charming, infuriating, gorgeous grin of this that makes me think I probably shouldn’t be the person to do this with him.
‘Come on, lads, let’s prep Travis,’ Owen suggests, leading the pack indoors.
God knows what prepping him involves. Oh, God, I hope they’re not going to, like, smear him in something stinky, like onions from the kitchen, or some sweaty clothes they’ve had rotting on the floor for a couple of days.
‘Nita, what the hell?’ I blurt as soon as it’s just us girls. ‘Me? You chose this and you chose me for it? Could we not just have, I don’t know, had a competition to see who can contour a face the best? Granted, I’m not the best, but I’ve got to be better than the boys – they probably don’t even know what that means.’
‘Okay, first of all, I don’t even know how anyone could win that competition, because who would judge it? You’ve not thought that through,’ Nita points out.
‘You’ve not thought yours through!’ I snap back.
‘I have, because, look, the second point I was going to make is that we clearly get under the boys’ skin, all of them, in one way or another, so forcing one of them to be in close quarters with us is a guaranteed win,’ she replies. ‘Look what happened when we were trying to work out if they stole my shampoo. They went nuts. So I thought, well, let’s see who they choose, and then select the best one of us to psych them out. They chose Travis so obviously we choose you – we all see how he looks at you.’
‘Nita, I’m not going to get a chance to psych him out, because I’ll probably fall first,’ I tell her.
‘Looks more like he’s fallen first,’ Lou jokes quietly.
I shoot her a look.
‘Girls, this is ridiculous,’ I tell them, unable to silently go with the flow this time.
‘It’s perfect,’ Nita corrects me. ‘He likes you – he might even let you win. If he puts up a fight, well, just push his buttons like you did the other night. Flirt with him – grind on him if you have to.’
Oh, wow, so she really is suggesting I try to seduce someone again, because it went so well last time.
‘Be a team player, Molly,’ Willow prompts me.
‘Erm, I’ll remind you that you said that when Nita has you lap dancing one of them for a cold drink,’ I half joke, because that might have happened already if Nita had thought of it first.
‘So the big plan is I fail to seduce Travis again?’ I check.
‘If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,’ Nita replies.
‘It absolutely is broke,’ I correct her. ‘But, fine, if you want me to make a fool of myself, and you want us to lose, then I’ll do it. I’ll do it with bells on!’
‘That’s the spirit,’ Nita replies.
I don’t think it’s that she isn’t detecting my sarcasm, I think more likely that she’s just ignoring it.
‘I’d go for a wee, if I were you,’ Lou suggests. ‘You don’t know how long he’ll last up there, but I wouldn’t put it past any of those boys to not just pee in the pool.’
‘It would psych him out if you did that,’ Nita points out.
‘More like gross him out,’ Willow adds, pulling a face.
‘Erm, if boys can do it, girls can do it,’ I inform her – and that’s got to be the weirdest act of feminism I’ve ever performed. ‘But, yeah, I think I’ll just nip to the bathroom. I’ll top my sun cream up too.’
‘Great idea,’ Lou replies. ‘You’ll burn to a crisp if you don’t.’
As I head to my room, the sheer absurdity of the situation swirls around in my head, making me feel a little dizzy – which is not good for balance at all.
Standing on a tiny podium in the middle of the pool, trying to outlast Travis, all while flirting to psych him out? I am so not the woman for the job here. It’s the kind of thing that, if it were Nita and Harry up there, would play out exactly as expected, but I can’t see me and Travis being anything but awkward. It won’t be a case of who falls first, it will be who jumps in to escape the uncomfortableness.
In the bathroom, I splash some water on my face, trying to shake off the lingering grogginess from last night. Then I take my sun cream and cover every inch of my skin that isn’t covered by my bikini. But then, as I look myself up and down in the full-length mirror, I suffer with what can only be described as a moment of madness because… am I really going to do this? In a similar moment of madness, when I was shopping for the trip, I bought myself one of those silly, tiny bikinis that you see the girls on Love Island wear so effortlessly, but always wonder to yourself how you would keep all your various bits and pieces in them. Yes, I saw them, had those thoughts, bought one anyway, packed it and – and had no intention of wearing it until right now. Maybe Nita is right, maybe all I do need to do is psych him out, and a teeny tiny bikini would go a long way to doing that, whether it was for good or bad reasons. I don’t need to know which, but if I’m doing it, then I’m doing it right.
I rummage through my suitcase – and it takes me ages to find it, which just goes to show how tiny it is – and put it on. I thought I would feel self-conscious, but I don’t (I do a bit), I feel empowered. That’s what I need to tell myself. This is empowering. I’m taking charge of my own destiny. I’m going to make Travis wish he was never born (and if I keep saying it, I might believe it).
I stand proud (ish) in the mirror, squaring my shoulders, pulling every spare bit of boob I can from under my armpits, wrangling them up front and centre to maximise my assets.
Let’s do this.
Back outside, I walk as confidently (but carefully) as I can. Harry and Owen break out in whistles and woos, which I would have thought might make me feel more self-conscious, but it actually helps.
‘Oh, mate, you’re in big trouble,’ Owen warns Travis.
Travis just laughs.
‘Shall we do this?’ he asks me.
‘Why not?’ I reply.
Wading into the cool water provides a brief relief from the sunshine. Travis climbs onto the podium first, his muscles rippling, water cascading down from them as he reaches out to give me a hand up – ever the gentleman. He makes lifting me seem effortless, which you’d think would do wonders for my self-esteem, but he makes it look so easy it just kind of annoys me a bit.
I can feel the girls watching from the edge of the pool, and I know they’re banking on me to pull this off.
The podium isn’t actually a podium at all, just a small flat surface barely wide enough for two people, and now that we’re both straightened up he’s right in front of me, our basically naked, soaking wet bodies pressed up against each other. Every time either of us moves so much as a muscle it’s like electricity between us. I’m caught somewhere between loving it and it feeling like actual torture.
‘Comfortable?’ he asks, his voice low and gently teasing.
‘So comfortable,’ I reply, putting extra emphasis on each word.
Nothing about this is comfortable. His body is radiating heat, and it’s impossible to ignore the tension building between us.
I focus on my footing, trying not to look at him too much, but every time I glance his way, he’s looking at me.
‘This is boring as shit to watch,’ Owen calls out from across the water. ‘We’re going to head inside and play some pool.’
‘Yeah,’ Nita adds, a suspicious edge to her voice. ‘We’ll give you two some space.’
I don’t miss the knowing look she throws my way before she heads off. Great. I’ll bet she thinks I’ll be more likely to get my flirt on without an audience – not that I think it will go any better for me, but she clearly believes in me.
With nothing else to do, and with a building urge to bring this round of the competition to an end already, I decide to test Nita’s theory, shifting my weight ever so slightly. We both wobble, and Travis not only adjusts, to correct his footing, but he instinctively steadies me too. His hands brush my sides, almost like he’s taking my hips in his hands, so I thrust my pelvis lightly in his direction. Honestly, it’s like the softer touches are the ones that drive me the most crazy. Here’s hoping it’s working on him too.
‘Careful,’ he says, but I can hear the faint trace of nervousness in his tone.
‘What’s the matter?’ I ask innocently, letting my voice dip into something a little softer, a little sweeter too. ‘You seem uncomfortable, Travis.’
He laughs, short and low, but there’s a flicker of something in his expression – a crack in his usual cool armour.
I lean in just a little closer.
‘You know,’ I begin casually, not actually knowing what I’m going to say myself, just that I want it to be vaguely flirtatious, ‘I’m usually pretty good at these kinds of games. I guess I’ve just… had a lot of practice… with my body being under this sort of pressure.’
One of his eyebrows raises, only a millimetre, but I notice it. It’s working.
‘Oh, yeah?’ he says, matching my tone. ‘And what kind of practice is that?’
I shrug, feigning nonchalance.
‘Oh, I think you know what I mean,’ I reply – again, I’m not entirely sure what I mean myself, I just wanted it to sound vaguely sex-ish.
Travis chuckles, shaking his head, but I can feel a stiffness in his posture that makes me think it’s working.
‘You must be pretty good with girls, though,’ I say. ‘You seem like the type who knows how to keep them interested. And, oh my God, these muscles! They’re just so… so big!’
‘Ha!’ he replies. ‘No, not really. It’s been a long time since I dated anyone. I went through a bad break-up, so…’
His voice trails off.
His honesty catches me off guard, and for a second, I forget this is a competition. That level of honesty is… unusual? Touching? Or maybe it’s a tactic? Maybe he’s making this whole story up to throw me off – I wouldn’t put it past any of this lot. My brain runs through the possibilities, but the sadness in his eyes really does seem genuine.
‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,’ I tell him.
‘It’s weird, because it’s a long time since we broke up, and it’s not that I’m not over it, it’s just that we were supposed to be going to the wedding together, so I know there’s going to be an empty plus-one seat there, and the fact that I’ve been single ever since – it’s like a milestone, you know? I feel like I should have moved on by now.’
Again, his honesty is as surprising as it is refreshing. I know Dean never used to like to talk about how he felt – unless he was reminding me that he thought marriage was stupid, of course.
‘That’s rough,’ I say simply. ‘But you shouldn’t be putting pressure on yourself to move on. I, er…’
I pause for a moment. Should I tell him about me? Not that I want to make this about me – I’m always worried that by trying to show people that I relate to what they’re going through, I just end up talking about myself – but I want him to know that this is totally normal.
‘I went through a break-up too, last year,’ I confess. ‘Dean, my ex, dumped me because I accidentally thought he was proposing to me – it’s a long story, but the misunderstanding was enough to make him end things.’
‘Shit, I’m sorry,’ Travis replies.
‘In my defence, we were eating alone, in a private dining room, and he said he wanted to ask me something at the exact moment he reached into his pocket,’ I point out.
‘There isn’t a jury on this earth that would find you guilty, in that case,’ he replies.
‘Right?’ I say enthusiastically. ‘Anyway, it’s not so much that but it’s had a knock-on effect on my work too. I’m a recruiter, and I’m trying to find someone to oversee our new product development plans, coming up with new recipes, and someone called Dean reached out, about meeting up, and I thought it was him crawling back so I replied telling him to piss off and… it’s a whole thing. Long story short, my boss insisted I take this break, and I really, really need to find someone for the job now, which is why I wanted to work while I was here, but there’s no wi-fi and… and… sorry, I’ve made this about me.’
I finally stop to take a breath.
Travis places a hand gently on the small of my back and gives it a gentle, reassuring rub.
‘I’m so sorry to hear that,’ he says sincerely. ‘And it’s not fair, that it’s affected your job. What kind of company do you work for?’
‘Brookes Biscuits,’ I reply – everyone knows Brookes, we’re one of the biggest manufacturers in the country.
His face lights up.
‘I love Brookes Biscuits,’ he says. ‘Those ginger shortbreads – game-changing.’
I smile, relaxing a little.
‘Yeah, they’re amazing. Plus, I get free biscuits at work, which might actually be the worst part about losing my job,’ I joke. ‘Screw the boyfriend, forget needing an income to live, just don’t take my free biscuits.’
He laughs, his shoulders shaking, causing that sexy friction between us again.
‘I don’t know if I would be more heartbroken about the break-up or the biscuits, if I were you,’ he jokes. ‘It doesn’t sound like he was a great guy.’
‘The biscuits, honestly, he was a dick head,’ I insist. ‘He did me a favour, in the end.’
‘Molly, you deserve so?—’
Travis doesn’t get to finish his sentence. The fountain springs back to life, roaring below us. Then a jet of water blasts upward, and I can’t help but scream as it sends me flying into the pool. I bob up for air just in time to see Travis fall off too.
The first thing I notice, after realising I’m not dead, is the boys shouting and cheering.
‘Travis wins!’ Owen yells, pumping his fists. ‘Molly fell first.’
‘That’s not fair!’ Nita storms over, hands on her hips. ‘Someone turned the fountain back on!’
Harry shrugs, far too innocent.
‘It’s probably on a timer,’ he tells her.
Travis climbs out of the pool first. His friends grab him, lift him up, shake him like the hero that he is.
I climb out after him, like a soggy piece of seaweed – the loser, washing up last.
‘Don’t worry,’ Lou reassures me. ‘We’ll win the next one.’
‘Yeah,’ Nita adds, her expression hardening. ‘Even if we have to play dirty like they do.’
I smile and thank them but all I can think about is Travis. What he said, the way he listened. My heart goes out to him, going to a wedding alone when you were supposed to be going with a partner, and seeing that empty chair – ouch.
I know we were up there for the competition but, for a moment, I wasn’t thinking about strategy or sabotage. I was just… enjoying myself. Having a deep conversation with a man who is… he seems like he might be really something.
As I wring out my hair – and check that all of my body parts stayed tucked inside my bikini which, thank God, they did – I can’t help but think about how great that was, and how I want to do it again.