Chapter 2
TWO
The narrow pavements out on the street meant the group had to split up. Genevieve and Paul strode off and were pointing things in the shop windows out to each other. They obviously didn’t like being out of each other’s sight.
That left Sam with Astrid on one side and Maria on the other.
“What a lucky man to have two gorgeous women on his arm,” Astrid said, nudging him. “The blonde Swedish beauty on one side.”
“And the dark Italian goddess on the other,” Maria added.
“So, Sam Davis,” Astrid continued. “Do you like blonde girls or do you prefer dark ones?”
Ah, the inevitable question. It’s true what they say. You never stop coming out of the closet.
It had come earlier than expected.
“I don’t really mind about hair colour. As long as they have stunning eyes, are taller than me and have a good bit of stubble.”
“Told you,” Maria said to Astrid.
“Told her what?”
“She bet me five euros you were gay,” Astrid said, running in front and putting a hand up. “Wait, he might be bi.”
Talk about being upfront and personal.
“In the interest of five euros, I can confirm that I am totally gay. And very hungry. Come on, let’s catch the others up.”
“Oh well,” Astrid said with a sigh. “You can’t blame a girl hoping for evens.”
They carried on toward the busier street where Genevieve and Paul were waiting. A handsome young man stood outside a butcher’s shop with a tray of cooked meat samples. They all grabbed one. Sam’s stomach had been growling for the past hour.
“Nice meat,” Astrid said, winking at him.
A wink he returned.
“Are you here to find a Spanish lover then, Sam Davis?” Maria asked.
“Who knows? Perhaps two.”
“I am,” Astrid announced. Stating a very obvious fact.
She proceeded to tell the group about her broken engagement and how she’d taken this opportunity to focus on healing and figuring out what her life had in store. Maria didn’t have a broken engagement, but she obviously saw herself as Astrid’s wingwoman.
Thank goodness we’re not room neighbours.
The restaurant came as a bit of a shock. Plastic plants jostled for room with various bullfighting memorabilia.
“Is this it?” Astrid asked as she peered in.
“Not Instagrammable enough for you?” Sam replied.
She stuck her tongue out.
Genevieve grabbed Paul’s hand. He didn’t seem very pleased with Astrid’s honest yet rude reaction.
“Anyone who knows anything about food knows it’s about the plate not the place,” he said with a sniff.
They walked inside leaving Sam, Astrid and Maria looking aghast.
“Whoops,” Astrid said as they followed them in.
It didn’t take long for the frosty atmosphere to disappear. Astrid had some wonderful stories and Paul soon perked up. Sam had sat opposite him and the red wine he chose slipped down smoothly along with the delicious tapas dishes. Perfect for getting him in the good food zone.
“Are you going for the tourist paella or the Valencian paella, Sam?” Paul asked.
Now there’s a challenge.
“Why don’t we share one?” Sam replied. “You can choose.”
Seemingly impressed, Paul ordered the Valencian option. The waiter fussed around the table, particularly toward Astrid. Which, of course, she lapped up.
In no time, the waiter delivered a sizzling pan of rice, chicken, rabbit, snails and vegetables. The smell made Sam’s mouth water.
“Oh. Were you hoping to have some of this?” he asked Paul with a wink.
“Let battle commence,” he replied.
If Sam hadn’t felt that his overseas adventure had started before, he certainly did by the time he rested his fork on his plate. Not a morsel remained and he was fit to burst.
He took a moment to scan the table. So far, he liked everyone and hopefully couldn’t have picked better people to spend the summer with.
Once he got past the wall that couples inevitably throw up, Genevieve and Paul were good fun.
Genevieve came across as very kind and interested in what people had to say.
Paul managed to match Sam and even Astrid for funny anecdotes.
They called into a bar on the way home. This time, Astrid chose the venue and the clientele seemed very social media friendly. She’d clearly done her research on that score.
“Selfie,” Sam called.
As they waited for drinks, they struck a pose. Sam posted it immediately.
“We should follow each other,” Astrid declared. “Then you can tag me in that.”
Of course, she wouldn’t waste a shot of herself. Sam held his phone out for her to do the necessary.
“You’re very trusting,” Maria said. “I wouldn’t give my phone to anyone.”
Sam winked at Paul. “Sounds like someone has something to hide.”
The barman deposited five bottles of beer on the bar and took Paul’s card. Sam raised his drink.
“Here’s to a summer of fun. Five musketeers ready to take on Valencia.”
“Six,” they all chorused.
Sam smacked his head. What was it about this person who kept slipping Sam’s mind. Astrid had said he would be arriving in the early evening. Sam glanced at his watch. It had gone seven.
“Perhaps we should go back soon so we can welcome him,” Sam said.
Astrid cackled. “Oh yes? You just want to get first dibs on him.”
“Hardly.”
Unlike her, Sam wasn’t laser focused on getting naked. In fact, he had no intention of bringing a guy to those revolting rooms and trying to have his wicked way with him. He hadn’t even done that in the halls of residence. Well, not much anyway.
His idea to form a welcome party failed spectacularly due to a group inability to walk past the door of any bar without calling in. By the time they staggered up the little shopping street, Sam was feeling no pain.
Astrid held court as they wandered, relaying a recent experience with a ski instructor and a cowbell. This woman had certainly lived a life.
By the time they got to the top of the stairs, Sam had to hold Maria up. Those last shots had probably been a bad idea.
“I need some water,” she said with a groan.
Sam propelled her toward the kitchen and stopped dead. There were dirty plates in the sink. Then he saw a bag of groceries on the table.
“He must be here,” Maria slurred.
“What time is it?” Paul whispered very loudly.
“It’s ten,” Sam replied.
He carefully lowered Maria onto one of the chairs.
“Perhaps he’s in bed,” Genevieve suggested. Clearly one to state the obvious. “Which is where we should be.”
After exchanging highly unsubtle winks with each other, they staggered off to their room with guttural laughter.
“Couples, eh?” Sam said.
“We should hit the hay too,” Astrid added. “We want to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed tomorrow.”
Sam grabbed some bottles of water from the refrigerator and handed one to each of the others.
“Drink it all,” he said. “Night, loves. Fab evening.”
Astrid winked. “First of many.”
Sam left them to it and negotiated the criminally steep winding staircase. By the time he got to the top, he was out of breath and had no idea which door was his. His stupid bloody brain had gone a total blank. He tried listening at each one. Everything lay quiet.
He had to make a choice and go for it.
Shrugging, he pushed open a door at random. Even in the almost total darkness he was fairly sure this was his room.
Knowing he would never find the light switch, he stripped down to his boxer shorts. The urge to fall into bed hit him like a sledgehammer. It had been a long day. He tottered over to the bed, pulled open the covers and slumped in.
Then all hell broke loose as a body in the bed leapt out.
“Was der Fick machst du?”
The irate stranger flicked the light on. Sam sheltered under the covers.
“I said, what the fuck are you doing?”
Guess this isn’t my room then.
He braved a peep from underneath the blanket.
A stunningly attractive yet incredibly angry man stood over the bed. He had closely cropped strawberry-blond hair and had accentuated it with stubble which spread across his perfect face. Even in his drunken state, Sam didn’t think complimenting him on his looks would help at this point.
“I’m Sam Davis,” he managed, then instantly realised how utterly ridiculous he sounded.
“I don’t care if you’re the king of bloody England. Why are you trying to get into bed with me?”
Sam slowly got out from under the covers. The room was spinning and he felt decidedly ill.
“I…uh…I think I’m going to be sick.”
The stranger moved so quickly Sam didn’t know what had happened. Grabbing him by the scruff of the neck, the guy threw Sam out onto the landing and slammed the door behind him.
“But…my clothes?” Sam wailed.
The need to be sick rose again and he fell headlong into the other room.