Throughout the entire journey to Ibiza, I have been smiling like a fool. Being on my own, has kind of made me look like a crazy smiling fool, but I've not cared. I am here now. That's all I care about.

As I wheel my small suitcase out of the busy main airport entrance, I look around, still wearing the same foolish smile that has accompanied me all the way here. When I hear a loud wolf whistle, I turn my head to the left. There, so sexily there, is Doug.

He said he would send Lanky to come and pick me up, so to see that he himself has decided to do it—makes my heart skip a crazy little hurrah beat.

"I thought Lanky was picking me up?" Is my elated question as I hurry to where he is.

Doug is walking with a gorgeous grin planted everywhere on his lips. And when he walks, his body talks—it has a sexy language all of its own. "I wanted to pick you up myself." He warmly and proudly tells me, looking ready to sweep me up into his arms.

Absolutely thrilled to see him, I am eager to get lost in those arms of his, to get lost in his welcoming cuddle. "Missing me that much, huh?" I tease, moving in for that snuggly embrace I crave so damn much.

Just like I thought, Doug's arms do engulf me. They powerfully relax around me, while he inhales the fruity fragrance of my hair. "You could say that." Is his affectionate comeback.

As manly as Doug is, he really does give the loveliest of cuddles. They're wholesome and heartfelt. Strong and uplifting. I like that about him. "It's nice to be wanted." I cutely comment, lifting both of my shoulders with such sweet satisfaction.

Drawing back a little, Doug now wants to look at me. "You're most certainly wanted, Frankie." Lifting my chin with his middle finger, he then softly kisses me. It's a kiss that says hello. It's a kiss that says I have missed you. It's a kiss that says I'm glad you're here. His lips aren't being firm and greedy, they're being light and sated. He switches between kissing me for long and lovely moments, to pouty little pecks. "Ready to go?" He soon asks with almost a whisper, smiling as he rests his forehead against mine.

Nodding with happiness very much evident on my face, I wheel my suitcase with one hand and hold Doug's with my other. "Do you know what I have been craving for whilst I was on the plane?" I randomly and happily say, smiling while we stroll to the car park.

Cockily, Doug replies. "Me?"

With a swift eye roll, I nevertheless explain. "Besides you, I've been wanting paella."

Grinning, Doug looks at me. "Then you shall have paella. I know a really great place in the Old Town...you'll love it!"

"Great." I say, because things are great. I'm back in Ibiza. I'm with Doug DiCarto. I have his song on my laptop. I have him holding my hand and taking me for paella—yeah, everything really is great.

**

After dropping my stuff off in my hotel room, I freshen up a little before meeting Doug down in the foyer. I've never really appreciated how lovely the foyer actually is—stylish, light and mellow—a pleasant space that leads you out onto the beach that invitingly is just opposite of the hotel.

"Ready?" Doug asks, looking all casual and rather delicious in his shorts and fitted white t-shirt. When he takes my hand, I love how attentive he is to me. I love how he is forever holding my hand or has his arm hooked around my waist. I have become so used to it, I'd feel kind of lost if he didn't ever do it now.

"I'm more than ready." Is my very eager comment. I'm ready for paella, and I'm ready to spend some quality time with Doug before we hit Revival later on tonight.

As we jump into the waiting taxi, we both enjoy just sitting closely together in the back. What is so nice, is that it just happens so naturally. There's none of this should I do this or should I do that?

Everything about Doug and I, just flows with instinctive ease.

It is much the same when we get to the restaurant. Doug wants everyone to know that I am with him, and I want everyone to know that he is with me. It's wonderfully weird just how comfortable we are around one another.

"Is this where you schmooze all your singers?" I joke as I take in the dimly rustic and charming surroundings we are now in.

Smirking, Doug confidently retorts. "Only the very gorgeous ones."

As I'm smiling in his very appealing direction, a youngish, very tanned and very friendly waiter comes to welcome us. "Hola. Table for two...sí?"

"Sí." Doug takes the lead, stroking my hand with his thumb while our waiter shows us to an intimate corner of the very cosy restaurant.

"Menus. For you." Says the handsome waiter with his broken English and his broad Spanish smile. "Back soon." He tells us both, leaving us with a little whiff of his aftershave as he hurries off in another direction.

Opening up the menu, I shift on my cushioned seat and let my eyes roam over the quirky décor of this place. Trees and plants are a big part of the darkly lit décor, that's for sure. "So, you've eaten here before, then?" Over a tea light candle, I gaze across at a glowing Doug.

He's eyeing the menu with a small smile. "I have, and the paella is amazing." His brown eyes now shift to me. "It's also nice and peaceful in here...perfect before all the craziness of Revival."

Agreeably, I nod. "It really is lovely." My eyes begin to again roam with blue wonderment. They appreciate the evocative atmosphere and the mosaic tiles that adorn the tables and the interior walls. It's all very prettily Ibizan with a very relaxed and calming ambience.

Before Doug can say anything, our handsome waiter is back. "Drinks?" He politely enquires.

Not fancying anything alcoholic, I start scanning what other drinks are on the menu. "Ummm, I'll just have an orange juice, please?"

Now looking at Doug, the waiter then waits for his drinks order. "Just a bottled water for me, thanks."

"Food? You ready to order?" The kindly waiter asks, first glancing at me and then back to Doug.

"Two paella's, I think?" Now looking at me and softly nodding, Doug is just making sure that is still what I want.

"Absolutely." Is my cheery and keen response.

"Yeah, two paella's, please?" Doug finally confirms with a closed smiled.

The waiter quickly jots it down, then throws us yet another one of his Spanish smiles. "Gracias." And again, he's gone.

Once alone, Doug leans slightly on the table. "I thought that Nancy might have come with you again this weekend?"

Tilting my head, I softly shrug. "She has to work this Saturday, so she's going to stay at mine while I'm away. She has loads going on with her parents at the mo, so some time away from them will do her good."

Frowning, Doug looks at me with concern. "Doesn't sound fun?"

Lowering my chin, I slowly sway my head from one side to the other. "It's not. Poor Nance doesn't have very supportive parents. They don't really approve of her singing and just want her to go and get a proper full-time job. They're always wanting more keep from her, and when she says she can't afford it, it always kicks off. She's been staying with me since Wednesday night. She was at mine after you dropped me off."

Grinning, Doug can't help himself. "Just as well that I didn't come in, then?"

Thinking back to our kissing and flirtations on the flat doorstep, I coyly smile. "Yup, that could've been a tad awks!" Is my coy confession.

Smirking, because he is also remembering the kissing and the flirtations, he then asks. "Does Nancy live in Peckham as well?"

"No, she's in Camberwell."

Still looking interested and curious, Doug says. "Not too far from you, then?"

Agreeing, I warmly smile back at him. "Just as well, really...all the rows that poor Nance has with her parents."

Our friendly waiter breezes back to the side of us. "One orange. One water." He says, placing them carefully on the mosaic-topped bistro table. "Food, not long." His grin is polite and very broad.

Mirroring one another, we pick up our cold drinks at the very same time. "You and Nancy have been friends for quite some time, then?"

Holding my orange juice, I thoughtfully nod. "Since I was nineteen and she was eighteen. We met through a mutual DJ friend. We just clicked, and have been friends ever since." Placing both my elbows on the table and holding my glass as demurely as I can, I look into the beguiling richness of Doug's brown eyes. "What about your friends, like your real friends, tell me about them?"

"Well, you met Lanky...who's pretty damn short, actually." Chuckling, Doug doesn't break any of our eye contact. "Most of my friends are part of the DiCarto Records team. Lanky is my sound engineer. Then there's Mack Monroe, you'll meet him later, he's in charge of bookings and promotion. There's also Tim, he assists Lanky. But most of my oldest friends are now married with kids and stuff. They all make me look like the wild and immature one." His chuckle is louder, more boisterous.

"And are you?" I'm digging. This is a perfect time to try and tug a little more info from out of the sometimes withholding Mr DiCarto.

Pursing his lips, one of his dark brows sexily rises. "Maybe in the past, but I'm twenty nine now, I've got to start toning things down a bit now." He blinks, still not wanting to break our connected stare. "I think if you meet the other half of yourself, you can become a much more satisfied whole person in this world."

The features on my face soften, softening to his meaningfully said words. "Yeah, that makes sense to me." All of what Doug says, all of who he is; makes wonderful and absolute sense to me.

"I'm really glad you're here, Frankie." His voice is warm, it's a caring and charismatic tone. Wanting to hold my hand, Doug affectionately holds it across our small candlelit table. Then he looks at me again, a lidded look of peaceful satisfaction. "I miss you when you're not with me. I know I'm probably making myself sound like a total bellend, but I do."

With my reassuring fingers, I lightly stroke his hand. "You don't sound like a bellend to me. I love how honest and open you are with me." Then a thoughtful frown starts pulling at my shapely brows. "Except maybe about your mum...you're not so open about her."

Lowering his gaze on me, Doug breathes in a careful breath before answering. "I know. I just find her really hard to talk about. We don't really get on anymore."

My voice is softly encouraging him to tell me more about him and his mother. "How come?"

With a dusting of solemness to his reply, Doug replies. "We've just grown apart. To be honest, I only have myself to blame for it. Now, we'll never get back how we used to be."

"How did it used to be?"

A distant smile curls up his mouth. "We were close. Mum wasn't just my mum, she was a friend." His dark eyes lighten at the long ago memory, making him want to share just a little more. "Mum was the kindest, most well-liked person a son could have. My friends liked her. Their parents liked her. All our neighbours liked her. Even the notoriously grumpy ass Mr Evans who lived in the cottage at the edge of Epping Forest, he even liked her. And she was interesting. Mum was a great conversationalist because she knew about all kinds of things. She used to be a history teacher, and it is when she was researching Belém Tower in Santa Maria de Belém, that she first met my father. Dad worked for UNESCO, which is The United Nations Educational Scientific and Cultural Organisation."

Impressed, I just have to momentarily interrupt. "Wow!" Is my overawed response.

Doug smiles, casually nodding just the once. "Yeah, Dad was involved in Natural Sciences when he first met my mum. They quickly fell in love and dad eventually left Portugal to be with mum in London. By the time I came along, they had both settled in Waltham Forest, and that house is still the family home." An unease soon comes and settles all over his compelling features. "When I was eleven, dad died in a helicopter crash on the outskirts of Paris. He was on his way to a lecture about the conservation of ancient sites." Now sadness veils every divine corner of his face and tightens up his vocal chords. "I don't think mum ever got over losing him."

Wanting to end what seems to be hurting him right now, I speak with delicate sympathy. "So what happened between you both?"

Doug slowly blinks, like he finds it so hard to say anything else. "Mum changed."

Now grimacing slightly, I then gently have to ask something. "I thought you said your mum now lives in Romford?"

"She does, but she still owns our family home in Waltham Forest." Doug is beginning to now look a mixture of solemn sadness and quiet conflict.

However, coming to his solemn and conflicted rescue, is the waiter with our delicious-smelling food. "Paella for you...enjoy!" He chorally announces to us both.

While our steaming paella's are being placed in front of us, Doug is breathing in a large and calming breath, quickly adjusting his composure before the waiter leaves us all alone again. Sitting taller in his seat, he briefly smiles at me while shaking off the heavy conversation completely from off his shoulders. "I'm starving." He enthusiastically says, making it clear that all talk of his mum and dad has now very much come to a quick close. Bringing a forkful of his paella up to his mouth, he eagerly asks me. "When do I get to listen to Hear The Chant?"

"When you want to." Is my answer as I slide my own paella into my hungry mouth.

Doug is smiling, not only with his mouth, but with his very lovely brunneous eyes. "How about back at the hotel?" Yet another forkful of paella is pleasingly being eaten by him.

"If you think we have time? Then sure." I too, am enjoying my vibrant and aromatic dish of seafood, rice, saffron and chicken.

Now looking positively devilish, Doug smirks. "And some snogging?" That smirk of his is now exceeding the irresistible scale.

Cocking my head and all of me feeling so ridiculously happy, my reply quietly fills the flirtatious space between us. "And maybe just a little snogging."

It's all I can say, really.

That DiCarto charm gets me every single time.

**Video above is: CALVIN HARRIS & DUA LIPA - ONE KISS 💋**