In the late afternoon we return to our hotel, having drank very many cocktails and swam in the ocean for longer than necessary. We're tired, sticky and prickling from the sun.

"Oh! Sir, sir!" The receptionist calls as we lazily make our way through the hotel lobby. "Sir!"

I'm not sure if it's because we're drunk, or in our own little bubble, but we don't notice she's talking to us until she's stood right in front of Nick, waving her arms about like a madwoman.

"Sorry?" Nick frowns at her, equally as confused as I am about the frantic movements she's making.

"There was a mixup with your room, sir."

"A mixup?" Nick repeats, suddenly looking very serious (and very sexy).

"Yes. But don't worry, we have upgraded you to a villa."

"I'm sorry, I'm confused. What mixup?"

"We had to move your things out of your room due to an unforeseen circumstance. We've upgraded you to one of our villas."

"Right?"

"Shall I take you there, sir?"

A bit flustered and definitely unsure, Nick turns to me. I shrug. What can we do? Say no and demand they give us our old room that no longer has our stuff?

Nick turns back to her. "Lead the way," He gestures forward with his hand.

The worker smiles and leads us through the hotel lobby, past the early evening dinner guests, down a cobbled path, along the swimming pool and to a back section we haven't yet ventured to.

It's a row of small houses, modern, boxy, made out of concrete and painted white. The little street is lined with trees and plants, all blooming and beautiful. Like something from a fairytale, picturesque and stunning.

The receptionist stops outside one of the boxy houses and hands Nick a key, gesturing for him to open the door.

Once inside, my mouth drops.

We walk into a living room with enough space to fit a large family and their many cousins. The furniture is grand and wooden or bamboo, with green plants dotted around and marble furnishings making it look fancy. 

As we meander through, I'm greeted by large patio doors opening out onto our own private swimming pool, with a swing and sun loungers. The evening sky is dancing purple and pink across the white stone, making it look magical.

Nick looks at me, eyebrows raised. This is certainly an upgrade in comparison to our previous room, which had nothing but two double beds and a rainfall shower.

It's something I would have hoped for as a honeymoon treat, akin to what you see in brochures and on holiday websites. Not something you're meant to actually experience in real life.

I follow him to the bedroom. The only one. With one super king sized bed sat in the middle. Breaking Rule Number Two.

"Ah." I say.

"Ah." He repeats.

We stand at the foot of it, me with my hands on my hips, Nick rolling his forward. A universal 'well, this is awkward' sign from the both of us.

"Only one bed?" I ask the receptionist.

"Yes!" She grins. "For the happy couple."

I blow air out of my cheeks and turn back to the bed. I look around at the beautiful villa. It would be a shame to turn down such an upgrade on something as trivial as a bed, wouldn't it?

As if reading my mind, Nick says, "It's a big bed."

I nod, "Very big."

"Almost like two doubles pushed together."

"You're right."

"It's pretty perfect except it's not separate. We can build a pillow wall."

"A pillow wall! Brilliant idea!"

"Does this mean you're happy?" The receptionist asks.

"Very happy," Nick says.

"Thank you," I add.

She leaves us alone. Just me, Nick and our massive, massive, bed...

Well, plus the private swimming pool, tv so big it will probably burn holes through our skull, and a living room larger than my London flat.

"Outside shower." Nick says.

"Pardon?"

He points to the back of the swimming pool where there's a part sectioned off with bamboo sticks and leaves. In the middle is a giant, circular, shower head.

"I'd be able to see all your bits if you showered in there," I say.

"All my bits?"

"Yeah. Your meat and two veg and that."

He looks aghast, "My meat and two veg?"

"Yeah. Your penis and ballsack."

"Oh my god! You act like we don't regularly have sex."

I frown. "You're breaking the rules."

"No, I'm not! I didn't orchestrate this!" He points to the bed.

"Not the bed. We don't talk about or have sex unless we're drunk."

He gives me a lopsided grin. "I am drunk. And you look fantastic. Your hair is all beach-y, your freckles out in force, you look all sun-kissed and kissable. Even your brown eyes seem lighter."

My heart is pounding, he's so attractive, especially when he wants me.

"Green," I correct. It's the only thing I can think to say.

His brow furrows, "What?"

"My eyes. They're green."

"They're brown."

"No. They're green."

"They're definitely brown."

I march over to him so I'm stood inches away. "They're green."

He looks at them, at me, deeply. "Alright, they're hazel."

I laugh and the weird, awkward, mood dispels.

"Do you want a shower first?"

I look back to the very open shower, "You can't watch me."

"Pinky promise," He says but there's a small smile on his face.

"Gutter." I say, looking for my bag. "You live in the gutter."

"Only for you," He says, but his tone is serious.

Not sure if he's joking, I bury my head in my suitcase and laugh it off. Four more days like this and I am going to spontaneously combust.

I watch as he grabs his journal and goes and sits by the pool, directly behind a tree so he can give me space to shower... which somehow makes me more attracted to him.

Combust. I'll have to. I can't survive much longer.

Despite the fact I know he can't see me, because there is a tree blocking his view, I can still feel eyes on me so I hastily shower. Then I take the same seat as him whilst he gets ready. As he pads across the villa he makes a big show of covering himself up, making me laugh.

It's only when he's in the shower that I realise the tree blocks a small fraction of viewing, which means I was only partially covered. I can see most of his broad back, the water flowing from his hair, dripping onto his muscles. I stare at the two hallows at the base of his spine and  I'm hit with such intense lust I almost throw all sensibility to the wind.

Almost.

Nick is one of the very best parts of my life right now, and I think blurring the lines of friendship was always going to be messy - it will be even messier if those lines are constantly blurred with no strict boundaries in place.

I'm not willing to risk it all and confuse it even more, not yet. Not when Nick has told me on more then once how fun our arrangement is. He was clear from the start, we are friends with benefits and I respect that. I don't want to change that.

It's all well and good telling myself this, but as I watch him wash himself down and think about how nice it would be to have his hands on my body, I remember that mum once said my heart lives in my vagina.

I suddenly think I'm doomed.

-

Words; 1226

Total: 11584