I glance down at myself. I’d forgotten I was still wearing that stupid red dress I borrowed from Chloe earlier; not to mention all that makeup. I touch my face self-consciously.
“Chloe gave me a makeover,” I tell him. “She’s good at that kind of thing.”
“Is she?” Alex raises an eyebrow, then quickly lowers it again, seeing the look on my face.
“Sorry,” he adds sheepishly. “You just look different, is all. You don’t look likeyou.”
I’m tempted to ask whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing as far as he’s concerned, but I stop myself just in time.
“You must have been somewhere special,” Alex says, his voice sounding a bit odd. “Was it another date? With Jamie?”
“No,” I reply quickly, wishing he’d stop looking at me like that. “Chloe wanted to go and see him. It was nothing, really. Gerald was there too.”
I have no idea why I’m so keen to assure him I wasn’t on a date.
It’s not like he’s going to care.
“Gerald?” he says, chuckling. “Sounds like quite a night.”
“Yeah,” I reply, sighing. “Quite a night. What are you doing up, anyway? Have you been out somewhere too? One of the clubs?”
My heart contracts suddenly at the thought of him out in some bar, maybe flirting with the blonde woman from breakfast this morning, or someone like her.
Stop it, Summer. It has absolutely nothing to do with you if he was.
“No,” he says ruefully. “Nothing so exciting, I’m afraid. I just came out here because I couldn’t sleep. I’ve got… well, I’ve got a few things on my mind.”
I frown.
“It’s not what happened earlier, is it?” I say in a rush. “You know, by the pool? Because I’ve been meaning to apologize for that. I didn’t really mean it. I just said it because… well, because that’s the kind of thing we say to each other, isn’t it? You say I’m reckless and that I believe in fairytales, so I say you’re—”
“‘Arrogant and up myself’?”
I feel my face turn as redas my dress.
“I’m really sorry,” I tell him sheepishly. “I didn’t realize you were there. And Chloe was winding me up, so I —”
“Relax, Summer,” he says, interrupting me. “That’s not what I was thinking about. Believe it or not, you’re not the only thing on my mind right now. No matter how good you look in that dress. Drink?”
Those few sentences of his are going to require alotof unpicking. Before I can figure out which one to start with, though (Do I ask him what hewasthinking about, or go straight into the detailed analysis of the ‘dress’ comment, and whether he meant it to be as flirtatious as it sounded?), he turns around and picks up a bottle of champagne, which looks like the same one I saw in his room the other day, and waves it in my direction.
That’ll explain the flirting, then. He’s just drunk. I’m not sure whether to be disappointed or relieved.
“I’m good, thanks,” I say quickly. “I think I’ve had enough for one night.”
Alex shrugs and pours one for himself.
“So, are you going to tell me what happened with Whatshisface, then?” he asks, downing his drink in one.
I hesitate for a moment, then go and get my seat, and bring it over until it’s next to his, with the wall between us.
“Nothing happened,” I tell him, sitting down. “Chloe and I just went to Jamie’s bar to see him, then the three of us went to a club. Well, the four of us, counting Gerald. He didn’t stay long, though.”
“And that’s what’s got you smashing glasses on the balcony in the middle of the night?” he asks skeptically. “There must be more to it than that, surely?”
I sit quietly for a few seconds before answering him.
“There isn’t really,” I tell him carefully. “We went out for a drink. It was fine. Well, fine-ish. But then, just as we were saying goodbye, Chloe decided to tellhim I’d come over here just to see him, and then it all went weird.”
