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“He’s lovely,” Ally states.
I smile. “I’m glad you like him.”
“He’s really going back next week?” Donna asks.
I sigh. “Yeah, unfortunately.”
“And you’re just good friends?” Jack wants to know.
“Just good friends.”
“Bullshit,” Ally says. “He hasn’t been able to tear his eyes away from you all evening.”
I blush. “I’m not saying we wouldn’t if we could… but I can’t. Not after Jason.”
Their smiles slowly fade. “Aw,” Ian says. “You shouldn’t let that fucker stop you having fun.”
“No, I agree,” I reply, “but Titus has to leave soon, and I don’t want to get hurt.”
“Fair enough,” Ally says softly. “It’s a shame though. He seems really into you.”
Her comment warms me. I can see him coming back through the restaurant, and I have to stifle a sigh at the sight of him, striding confidently through the tables, the women in the room unable to stop casting him glances as he walks by. I like him so much. It’s a shame our timing is so appalling.
“Can’t you just have a holiday fling?” Donna whispers just before he arrives.
“Shh!” I smile brightly at him as he sits again, glancing around. A holiday fling… That would be dumb, wouldn’t it? I’m pretty sure the Striking Viking would be a very easy man to fall in love with, and that’s never going to end well.
Chapter Nine
Heidi
When we’ve finished our meals, Ally says to Titus, “So, are we going to be able to persuade you to join us?”
I give him an apologetic look and reveal, “They want to go to a karaoke bar.”
He shrugs. “I don’t mind.”
I stare at him in delight. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, of course.”
So we pay and head out of the restaurant, then walk the short distance to the bar.
The sun has now set, and the waxing moon is casting a silvery path on the sea. We’ve finished off several bottles of wine between the six of us, and I feel mellow and happy as we enter the bar. Ally has booked one of the karaoke rooms, and we order drinks and take them inside. It’s small with comfortable padded benches around three sides, tables in the middle, and a small stage at one end for whoever’s performing. Flashing pink and purple lights turn the room into a disco.
We slide onto the benches, and then it’s time to start with the songs.
The others go first, although we all sing along so the performer doesn’t feel too self-conscious. Ally belts out Whitney Houston’sI Wanna Dance with Somebody. Jack chooses Ed Sheeran’sPerfect. Donna sings Amy Winehouse’sRehab, and Ian chooses Rick Astley’sNever Gonna Give You Up.
Then it’s my turn. I opt for The Pretenders’Brass in Pockets, a nod toLost in Translation, which is one of my favorite movies. A tingle runs through me as Titus leans back and watches me, his eyes gleaming in the flashing disco lights.
I don’t know if it’s the few glasses of wine I’ve had, the strange, magical day, seeing Titus without his shirt earlier, or the flashing lights, but I feel hot and buzzy, and my heart’s racing. I tell him I’m going to make him notice me, and that I’m special, while I move my hips to the music, and I’m rewarded by his steady stare, as if he can’t tear his eyes from me.
When I’m done, he applauds with the others, and then Ally says, “Titus? Going to have a go?”
“You don’t have to,” I say breathlessly, sitting next to him.
“I’m absolutely going to,” he says, getting to his feet.
