Three hours later, and about five hundred and seventy five jokes, puns and jibes about Trev and Tess, Chris and I found ourselves finishing desert.  

“Do you want to go for a walk on the beach, walk off some of these calories?” Chris said patting his bloated stomach, and sticking it out for added effect.

“Sounds nice.” I replied.

I always think the beach looks better at night. It has a mystical quality to it. When the sounds of people have vanished and all you can hear are the soft, gentle movements of the water as it licks the shore and crashes lightly on the rocks. The sky looked like a child had thrown silver glitter across it and the sand felt like cool candy- floss.

We walked in silence for a while, before I decided to broach the subject again with a question that had been troubling me throughout dinner. “Do you really not believe in love?”

“No I don’t.” His answer came out fast and was so matter of fact.

“So what happened then? Someone break your heart?”

“No, nothing like that actually. I’ve never been in love.”

“What?” I was taken aback by his statement, “How’s that even possible? How old are you?”

 “33.”

“Okay, okay…”, I stopped walking and turned to face him, this topic deserved a proper conversation, not a half-hearted one, “So you’ve never dated before?”

“I’ve dated. I’ve had a few serious girlfriends, but I don’t think it was ever love. They all ended badly as you can imagine. They all thought they would be the girl to finally melt my cold heart…but they didn’t.”

I thought about those poor women; desperately in love and waiting for reciprocation that never comes.

“I never lead any of them on, if that’s what you’re thinking. I told them all up front that I don’t believe in love.” He added quite quickly and defensively.

My feelings of pity then switched allegiances; it was Chris that I felt sorry for now. Isn’t love something we all want? Crave?  

As if sensing my thoughts he added, “I mean, look what happened to you. All in the name of love. Don’t you wish you’d never fallen in love with Trev in the first place?”

I thought hard about this question, and while it was true that I’d been deeply hurt, I still believed in love and hoped that one day I would find it again.

“Nah, I like valentines hearts and soppy sentimental cards.” I smiled and Chris smiled back. I wasn’t sure I was buying this whole- “I don’t believe in love” act. There was definitely more to this story than met the eye. But I wasn’t sue what.

We’d been talking so much that I hadn’t noticed how far we’d walked until I turned around and saw that the lights from the resort looked like glowing pin pricks. It dawned on me how completely alone we were.

Behind us stood what looked like a large, deserted, beach house. It was obvious that it had been abandoned for quite some time. It was nothing more than a mere skeleton; the doors had fallen off and the windows had no glass in them. Vines and palm trees had taken over and paint peeled off in thick chunks. From the years of wind, the floor had been completely covered in white sand.

“Come, let’s go check it out.” Chris said striding across the beach and beckoning for me to follow. The house was designed in that typical Mauritian style architecture. Deep wrap around verandas with overhanging roofs propped up by imposing columns. I could only imagine what it must have looked like in it’s heyday.

There’s always something creepy about an abandoned house, and as you well know, they are the common start to many a horror film. Teens find an abandoned cabin in the woods, and three scenes later someone is chopping off their arms with a chainsaw.

The inside was even creepier, bits of broken furniture lay scattered across the floor like old dry bones and the walls were decorated with graffiti. We moved through the rooms, old leaves and God knows what else, crunching under out feet, until we reached a steep staircase.

“Watch your step,” Chris said suddenly taking me by the hand and helping me up the dark staircase. We walked up to the top and peered around the corner.

“Ooohh,” Chris’ eyes lit up with devilishness, “What do we have here?”

And there, seated on the floor, were about six teenagers, not older than 14 playing spin the bottle. We both watched for a moment or two as a pimply looking boy with braces spun the bottle. It came to rest pointing at a pretty young brunette with a Cindy Crawford mole. They exchanged awkward, spastic looks before their friends started cheering them on. I cringed as they leaned in and engaged in what was probably the worst kiss I’d ever seen. Clearly these were first- or very near first- kisses.

I struggled to hold back a laugh.

“Watch this, “ Chris whispered in my ear before jumping out from the stairwell.

“And what’s going on here?” He boomed in an authoritative voice. The reaction was immediate; the kids went scrambling in all directions. One of the girls started shouting like a stuck record, “Please don’t tell our parents. Please don’t tell our parents. Please don’t tell our parents”

I couldn’t help my loud laughter.

“Just joking.” Chris said, “You guys carry on as you were. We’re going to be leaving.”

“So you’re not going to tell our parents? “ The wide-eyed frightened girl asked with a kind of desperation in her voice.

“I don’t even know who your parents are.” This seemed to waylay their fears when they realized Chris wasn’t some spoiler parent. Chris and I then turned, ran down the stairs and I bolted for the beach. We were barely able to contain our laughter and the second we got outside, it erupted.

“Did you see their little faces,” He said falling to sand. “It looked like they'd just seen a ghost.”

“That was so cruel by the way. You’re a sick sadist. Imagine how you would have felt at that age if an adult had done that to you!” We were still laughing as we both settled comfortably onto the sand.

“God I remember my first kiss as if it were yesterday. It was a total disaster. Also during a game of spin the bottle,” Chris’ laughter had tapered off as he spoke, “The girl actually told me I was a bad kisser. I don’t really blame her though. I’m sure I was. Do you know how many years it took me to pluck up the courage to kiss another girl again?”

All this talk of kissing was giving me a strange feeling. This was one of those conversations that could easily lead to loaded innuendo and flirtation, if you wanted it to.  And suddenly... I did. I wanted it to.

Maybe it was the sunburn? Maybe it was the sea air? But I felt like having a good old-fashioned flirt. I hadn’t had one in so long and wondered if I even remembered how to? And Chris seemed like a perfectly benign subject.

“And now?” My voice was low and whispery, “Has you're kissing improved much?” I let the implication hang in the air.

Chris turned around and looked at me with an intense look, I felt my heart quicken a bit. “Are you trying to flirt with me Annie?” His voice was equally whispery and I was wondering what the hell I’d started here.

 “Um…I was just seeing if I still had it. You know. It’s been so long,”

Chris gave me this smile that lit up his eyes.  I hadn’t noticed how blue they were. A light liquidly blue color jumped out against large jet-black pupils. He nodded at me, “Pretty good. I think you’ve still got it. I would have definitely gone for it.”

“Good to know,” I reciprocated with a smile and started to wonder what would have happened if he'd taken the bait and said something like, “Why don’t you be the judge of that” and leant in for a kiss. That beard! I’d never kissed a guy with so much facial hair and all I could think about was the possible prickliness of it all.

We sat in silence for a while. There was no denying it; the silence was loaded with something else now. The innocent flirting had definitely changed the mood between us.

“So, have you dated since Nipple Gate?”

“Oh My God! I also call it nipple gate!” I shrieked.

“What can I say? Great minds.” We shared a tiny look of recognition.

 “No. Not a single date.”

“Why not? You must get guys asking you out all the time?”

I felt a slight fluttering at that comment, even though it was totally untrue.

“Truth is…You know how it took you courage to kiss someone again, because you thought you weren’t good at it…. well, that’s kind of how I feel.” 

“That you’re not good at kissing?’

“No, not good at.. you know…Since Trev needed to get it somewhere else… and like that.” I couldn’t believe how honest I’d just been with a total stranger.

Chris turned and looked at me, as I focused all my attention and energy on the tiny purple shell that was lying in the sand. I felt way to vulnerable right now to make eye contact with anyone. And I was regretting this conversation and hoped he would deflect with humor, as apposed to going into a lengthily discussion about my sexual ability.

“Well, we could do it right here if you want and I could rate you out of ten.”

We both burst out laughing again. I hadn’t laughter like that in almost a year. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Chris look down at his watch and I was surprised to learn that it was already quarter past twelve.

“It’s getting late. I need my beauty sleep.” He said, before getting up from the sand.

We walked in silence the whole way back to the resort and all the time I thought about my first kiss. I’d been thirteen, and he was the hottest guy in school. It wasn’t a real kiss really, but it had been just enough to make me fall head over heels with my first official crush. We met behind the classrooms one recess and stood there all coyly before he leaned in and pecked me on the lips. He then ran off back to his friends and I went off giggling back to mine. It was so easy back them. Young love!

“Well this is me,” His words brought me back to reality, “My room.”

I looked at it, “Shit! You got the big one.”

“That’s how I roll baby. Deluxe presidential suit. There're only two.” He was deliberately hamming it up.

I eyed him up and down now, not the kind of guy I would have pegged for a presidential suit.

“What does it look like inside?” But I didn’t even wait for him to offer, I’d never been in a presidential suit before, and I was already half way through the door.

Behind me, Chris clapped his hands together and rubbed them triumphantly, “Score! And I didn’t even have to ply you with alcohol to get you to come back to my room.”

“Ha, Ha. You wish!” I said winking at him. We’d sort of naturally fallen into this witty repartee, which I was finding really enjoyable. 

The inside of the room was ridiculous. Over the top. Plush, Lush, Delish. A Jacuzzi bath, sprawling lounge suit and dining room. Palm filled atrium with an open shower. Huge bed, enormous wide screen TV, private upstairs roof garden with splash pool that looked over the sea. A second bedroom and bathroom upstairs too.

“It’s incredible,” I wasn’t able to hide my awe. “I’m impressed. You’re clearly a very good writer.”

“I try.” He said, before adding, “Although I may not be able to afford this again when I’m an out of work screen writer in two weeks time.”

“I’m sure something will inspire you,”

“I hope so.” I could hear the worry in his voice and I took that as my queue to leave.

“Well, it’s time for me to go back to my little hovel. Think of me while I’m slumming it.”

Chris chuckled as he walked me to the door. Without thinking I leant over and kissed him on the cheek. He smelt good.

“Bye. Thanks for a cool evening Chris.”

“Pleasure. We should hang again tomorrow or something.”

“That would be nice.”

He closed the door and I started walking back to my room wondering why I’d liked kissing him so much. Even if it was just on the cheek.