‘Stealth.’ He smiled. ‘Is that whisky?’ He pointed to my glass.
‘Single malt.’
‘I’m impressed.’
‘Are you?’ I could feel him staring at me.
‘A girl that drinks whisky? Absolutely.’ I tried to hide my smile. Was this gorgeous man flirting with me? Stuff like this didn’t ever happen to me. Broiled chicken cheaters happened to me. Vanilla guys who were into computers happened to me. Hot men on islands did not happen to me.
Nick smiled at me, and his eyes crinkled in the most adorable way. I opened my mouth to say, Well, have a good night, expecting he was just being pleasant because he was on holidays, and his wife was probably eyeing me up and wondering why her wonderful husband was talking to the awkward girl at the bar who’d just fallen in the sand. But then I stopped myself. There are times in your life when there is a moment. A moment that presents itself as a possibility. The universe had conspired to plant this man right in front of me. Bumping into me. Literally. And it had to be for a reason.
Ask him to have a drink with you.
This was one of those moments when the man in front of you is gorgeous, and maybe he’s not living in a granny flat with his parents, or a workaholic with a heart problem, and it’s not a weird blind date, and he might be taken, or not, but still, you think – just go for it.
Ask him to have a drink with you, I thought again. I mean, it’s just a drink. Why not? Why the bloody hell not!?
I took a deep breath, smiled and said, ‘Well, I was about to have a shot too. Are you up for it?’ I held my breath and waited for him to respond.
‘I am,’ Nick said, laughing. ‘But none of that girly shit.’
My heart did a little cha-cha. ‘You mean, no Cocksucking Cowboy?’
‘Slippery Nipple,’ he chimed in.
‘Jam Donut?’ I teased.
Nick held up his hand. ‘OK, that’s the only one I’ll let you consider. Because it tastes like—’
‘Gummy snakes!’ I interrupted.
‘Exactly!’ He laughed and nodded at the bartender. ‘Two Jam Donuts, please,’ Nick ordered. The bartender had no idea what that was, so in the end we got two shots of Baileys with a dash of chambord. We cheers-ed and tossed them back quickly.
‘Ugh, that was sweet.’ I shuddered.
Nick ordered two whisky chasers, and paid for both rounds. A true gentleman.
‘So, what are you up to tonight?’ he asked. ‘Did you watch the game?’
‘Game? No.’ I almost snorted. ‘I hate sports.’ I thought it best to be honest, and not pretend I was really into cricket or rugby, and then have to listen to him prattle on about his team for the next thirty minutes.
‘All of them?’ Nick asked.
‘Well, except that Japanese show of people falling into the water whilst trying to balance on slippery apparatus.’
‘Oh, Kamikaze! I love that too.’ Nick grinned.
‘Were you here watching …’ I put down my whisky to use air quotes ‘… the game?’
‘No.’ Nick leaned in. ‘Don’t tell anyone, but I kinda don’t like sports either.’
‘What?’ I feigned shock and horror. ‘How un-Australian!’
‘It’s true. I think I was dropped on my head as a child.’
‘Your head does look a little lopsided.’ I grinned.
Nick laughed. ‘So, what brings you to Fiji’s top sports bar, then?’
‘This is a sports bar? I thought it was welcome drinks.’
‘It’s both.’ Nick smiled. ‘But mostly a place where guys get to hang out all day, every day.’
I nodded. ‘Ahh, a man-cave. A male den. A place to grunt away from the ladies.’
‘Yes, we’re on our best behaviour right now,’ Nick teased. ‘How’s our English sound to you? Can you understand us? I’ve been really practising losing my grunt accent.’
‘Hmmm.’ I squinted at him, feeling my heart beat faster. He was cute and funny, and had great banter, and he didn’t seem to have anywhere to go. He was staying longer than a man who was here with his girlfriend or wife would stay. And in an instant, I knew – I kinda liked him. There was something so likeable about him, something so easy, something I felt I could trust.
‘Better keep trying,’ I teased.
‘So, what brings you to Fiji, to the land of snorkelling and sun? Kids? Husband?’ Nick asked casually.
‘None of the above. I’m just here for the weekend and I thought I’d try my luck at winning big on the turtle races. Mumma needs some new shoes.’
Nick looked down at my black Havaiana thongs on my feet and said, ‘Yeah, I wasn’t going to say anything, but—’
‘Hey!’ I slapped him playfully on the arm. ‘Don’t get me started on your shirt.’
‘My shirt? What’s wrong with my shirt?’
‘Um, I could lay it out and have a picnic on it.’
‘Wow. Are you asking me to take my shirt off? You move fast. I don’t even know your name.’
I laughed and blushed. ‘Emma.’
‘So, Emma, besides trying to update your wardrobe at the local ocean bar, what brings you to this island?’
‘Just a few days in the sunshine.’
‘Same as us,’ Nick said.
‘Us?’ I looked around. ‘Seeing imaginary friends now, are you?’
He chuckled. ‘The boys, Brett and Mark, headed back to the villa. I’ve got a timeshare unit down by the beach so we fly over from Sydney as much as we can, especially since the summer is almost over.’
‘And Fiji is so warm, thank goodness, warm enough to swim.’
‘You going swimming later, then?’ Nick asked.
‘Maybe.’ I laughed. My head was saying yes, yes, YES, but I was trying to play it cool.
‘Well, this bar closes soon,’ Nick said. ‘Did you aim to be so fashionably late?’
‘Are you saying I’m fashionable now?’ I teased.
Nick laughed. ‘Not quite. We can talk more about your clothing choices later, as it may take some time.’
Just then the lights flicked on and off. Welcome drinks were over.
‘Shall we?’ Nick said, pulling out my chair for me.
I followed him down a side pathway through a row of huts and bures. Down at the beach the entire place was quiet, except for the small whoosh of waves lapping at the shore. Everyone else was tucked in their beds. The moon was full and round. A white streak of moonlight flashed across the water. The tide had gone out, and the waves were soft and round, gliding without any mermaid froth.
Nick grabbed my hand and pulled me until my feet hit sand. Soft, cold sand. He seemed to hold my hand for a beat, but then let me go.
‘How good a swimmer are you?’ He looked at me.
‘I’d beat you in an eggbeater contest.’ I could feel the warmth of the whisky flushing through my veins. It made me feel like being reckless on my last few nights of freedom.
‘You’re on!’ Nick said, unbuttoning his shirt.
‘I’ll have you know,’ I said, pulling my hair from its bun, ‘I’m an avid aqua aerobics-er. Is that a word?’
He looked at me curiously. ‘Aren’t you a bit young for that?’