My heart flips, eyes popping, and I’m lost for words, until Sam’s laughter brings me back to reality.
‘You should see your face.’
‘Am I blushing?’ I tap my cheeks for good measure.
‘Like Pikachu.’ He shifts in his seat, his legs no longer touching mine. Resisting the urge to slide forward just a little to find him again, I instead drink my latte, my eyes on the floor.
‘Text him.’ Sam breaks the silence. ‘We can have the double date here. I’ll cook.’
‘Sam, we can’t have ithere,’ I gasp. ‘He can’t know that you live here.’
‘Oh, right, yeah.’
‘But…’ A thought. ‘What if we say we know the owners here? Or, like, we booked it?’
‘Okay.’ Sam’s brow furrows. ‘And I’ll still cook?’
‘Yes.’ I’ve never been so certain of anything. ‘I will not turn that down.’
‘You might regret that. I’m an awful cook.’
‘Maybe you can give Alec food poisoning.’
Did I say that?
Sam gasps for dramatic effect.
‘I don’t mean that, obviously.’
‘You do.’
‘No, I don’t,’ I protest. ‘No, if we’re going to give him food poisoning, we should do that the night before his wedding.’
Sam raises his eyebrows, perfect creases on his forehead. ‘When did you become the villain?’
‘It’s Greece,’ I say. ‘It has that influence on me.’
I sip the latte. Pikachu has long since faded, but at least I have the photo for memories. An addition to the one Sam and I took at the Parthenon, which I was looking at last night, and early this morning. I also thought of the way he’s looking at me in that Polaroid.
‘How will we break up?’ I ask, putting my latte on the table. ‘Will you break my heart, or I break yours?’
‘Who says we have to break up?’ Sam asks.
‘Don’t be silly, Sam, we can’t fake-date after their wedding,’ I say. ‘You’re there so I don’t look like a loner. Now, who breaks up with who? Whom?’
Sam strokes his chin, a mocking of an introspective thinker.
‘You break mine.’
‘Wow, okay.’
Sam winks. ‘You’re the villain, remember?’
God, that was sexy.
‘Maybe this is the first time we’ve been away together,’ I say. ‘And we’ve realised we can’t holiday together, and we hate each other.’
Sam leans both his arms on the table, biceps curling, legs spreading out. It’s such a simple stance, but why does it make my stomach knot?
