‘Yes, absolutely,’ I say,waylouder than necessary. ‘I mean, no biggie, right? Totally chill.’
‘You don’t seem very chill. More like the opposite.’
‘Yeah, well, this whole thing was supposed to be super romantic, because I haven’t seen my boyfriend in, like,forever– but he’s in a totally different country and now there’s a natural disaster and who knows how long we’re going to be stuck here, and there’s no way you’re sleeping on a frigging sun lounger, not with a bad shoulder, and you’re being all gallant and saying I can’t sleep on the sofa – which, to be honest, would suck even though I could fit if I curled up – and there’s nowhere else for you to go – not till tomorrow – so what choice do we have?’
I stare at him, eyes wide – and probably wild – and gulp down several breaths.
‘That was a really good monologue – and all in one take.’
There’s a beat, then I crack up. Nick laughs with me and we grin at each other across the huge bed.
‘How do you do that?’ I ask.
‘Do what?’ he asks, the sassy glint in his eyes throwing me off balance.
‘Nothing – never mind,’ I say with a shake of my head.
I reach for a pillow, fluff it, then move onto the next one – anything to distract me from the twinge in my stomach. A man I’ve only just met should not be giving me stomach twinges, no matter how cool he is. Maybe sharing a bed is a dumb idea.
I’m on the verge of suggesting that we go into the living room or back onto the balcony when Nick sits on the edge of the bed.Argh!I move onto the next pillow. Very important work, pillow fluffing.
‘Delaney,’ he says.
I stop mid-fluff and look up, not quite meeting his eye.
‘Mmm?’
‘Sorry for not asking earlier, but did you get a chance to talk to Nicholas? About the volcano.’
‘Oh, um, yeah. Yeah, we talked.’
OrItalked and he huffed and puffed like the Big Bad Wolf. It was not a great phone call, but I’ll keep that to myself. I don’t want to make Nicholas out to be the bad guy here. He’s disappointed, is all.
‘That’s good,’ says Nick. ‘I spoke to Pip as well.’
‘And?’ I ask, perching on the other side of the bed.
He bares his teeth in an exaggerated grimace.
‘That good, huh?’
‘She thought I’d arrive tomorrow – she’s devasted. I imagine it’s the same with Nicholas.’
‘Hmm,’ I reply noncommittally –devastatedmight be too strong a word, but I don’t want to say that either.
‘Anyway…’ Nick says, climbing off the bed. ‘I suppose we should?—’
My stomach makes averyloud gurgling noise, interrupting Nick, and I fold my arms over it, willing it to shut the hell up. ‘Sorry,’ I say. ‘It’s the gelato. I’m lactose intolerant and I shouldn’t have it.’
He chuckles, which is evenmoremortifying. But thank god he’s not Nicholas. Nothing romantic about sexy time when you’re Ms Gassy McGasserson.
‘Maybe you should use the bathroom first,’ says Nick.
Okay, he may not be Nicholas, but this is still frigging embarrassing.
‘Ah, yep, thanks,’ I say, leaping up and crossing to the dresser.
Only, being mortified has turned my brain to mush and I have no idea where my cosmetics bag is. I rifle through the drawers, horrified that my stomach sounds like it’s doing laps in the Monaco Grand Prix.