‘Are you all right?’
I hold up a hand, lifting the cold bottle to my lips, and drink until there is no water left.
Sam smiles.
‘Don’t look at me that way.’
‘Did I walk too fast for you?’
‘Too fast?’ My voice rises an octave, hands swinging. ‘You were just fine. So slow. Didn’t have to keep up at all.’
Sam laughs. ‘Sorry.’
‘Oh, don’t apologise.’ I put the empty bottle in my backpack. ‘I should go to the gym more.’
‘You’re fine as you are,’ Sam says. I meet his eye. ‘I’ll go slow for you.’
‘Thanks. I’d appreciate that.’
We fall into rhythm, discovering the history of the ruined theatre in front of us. Sam takes a Polaroid picture, slipping the developing film into his pocket.
‘The first theatre in Greece?’
‘That would be the Theatre of Dionysus,’ Sam replies. ‘At least in Athens it’s the first. It gave us the Greek play.’
‘Wow.’ I breathe. ‘Shakespeare would be nothing without this. This Dionysus fellow. He important?’
‘Of course, he is,’ Sam says. ‘He’s the god of wine.’
‘What a great thing to be a god of.’
‘And he’s hot.’
I blink. Sam thinks Dionysus is hot?
‘Come on. You haven’t seen anything yet.’
Sam falls into sync with my pace, as we walk past the temple of Athena Nike.
The scorching sun is upon us as we crested the top of the stairs, walking through the shadows of Propylaea. I stop for a moment. I regret drinking my water so quickly, throat feeling dry. Is this how dehydration starts? Is this what it’s like to get lost in the desert, no water, no way of getting out?
Sam, reading my mind, offers me some of his. With plenty left, I drink graciously, and try to distract myself from how, moments ago, his own lips had been where mine were.
Sam’s skin glistens under the sun. Sweat and lotion adorn the nape of his neck and arms, highlighting his fine blond hairs. He smooths his hair with his hand, adjusting the cap he wears, tousling it into an even more unruly look.
Tourists jostle past us in both directions. A mother and her child, a lone man, and…
Oh my God.
Ollie.
Chapter Eighteen
WILL
Day Two
‘What are you doing?’ Sam asks.
