The Longest Holiday by Paige Toon Read Free Book Online Page A

right direction.
    ‘You want some company?’ Marty calls after me.
    ‘No, I’m good,’ I reply. I’m actually craving some space. Matthew has started to plague my mind again. I don’t want to be here, watching my friends flirt outrageously. And I don’t want to lead Rick on.
    As the night wears on, Rick becomes more and more tactile. Maybe if I were drinking, I wouldn’t mind so much. But I feel very different to last night, when I was on such a high after snorkelling. He keeps squeezing my shoulder, his arm draped over the back of my chair, and he doesn’t seem to notice how I tense up every time he does this.
    Finally, I’m ready to call time on the evening. I lean in and pull Marty away from whatever she’s giggling about into Tom’s ear, and tell her that I’m going to go back to the hotel.
    She looks momentarily disappointed, then replies, ‘We’ll come with you.’
    ‘No, no!’ I argue, but she’s already turned to the rest of the table. ‘Wanna come back for a drink on our balcony?’
    ‘Hell, yeah!’ come the enthusiastic replies as they knock back their drinks and stand up. Argh! I just want to go to bed.
    ‘Slow down, Laura, my heels are killing me!’ Marty shouts a short while later.
    I reluctantly drag my feet.
    ‘You in some kind of rush?’ Rick asks, keeping step with me.
    ‘I’m just tired,’ I reply a touch grumpily as the others erupt into drunken laughter about who knows what. ‘I want my bed. I’ve never wanted to sleep on a horrible single blow-up mattress so much in my life,’ I add, making sure I’m not implying that I’d like him to join me.
    ‘You can’t go to bed yet.’ He brushes me off. ‘It’s not even midnight.’
    ‘Yes, I can. I’m shattered and still feeling jet-lagged.’
    He doesn’t get it. He’s never travelled outside America, so he won’t understand the effect time, distance and travel can have on your body clock. I’ve used small talk as my defence tactic all evening, so I know quite a bit about him: he’s only twenty-five – four years younger than me – and he’s from Connecticut. He went to university in Chicago and learned to jet-ski on the Great Lakes. He’s lived and played there ever since. He doesn’t seem like the type to have had to work hard for a living. But maybe I’m misjudging him.
    ‘Tom and I are just going to go and grab a few beers from his room!’ Marty calls when we reach the hotel. They hurry off, and I can hear Marty trying to stifle her laughter. I doubt she’ll be back anytime soon.
    ‘Come and see inside our apartment,’ Bridget suggests with a raised eyebrow, pulling Carl through the door.
    A moment later I hear the muffled sound of them snogging the faces off each other, only to be replaced by their feet on the spiral staircase.
    I could actually cry. I just want to go to sleep. I turn with dismay to see Rick staring at me in the darkness, a smile playing around his lips.
    Oh, fuck off.
    I stomp to the swinging chair and climb into it, crossing my legs – and my arms. Back off, buster.
    ‘Is there room for a little one?’ He nods at the small space next to me.
    ‘You’re not little,’ I say.
    ‘No, I’m not,’ he murmurs in what he thinks is a sexy voice as he ambles closer.
    ‘I’m sorry, but I’m really tired,’ I say and stretch out before he gets any ideas. I’ve been polite to him all evening, but even a slug would have flirted more. How can he not have got the message?
    His face falls slightly, then he laughs and tries to budge me over. ‘You’re funny,’ he says.
    ‘I’m serious,’ I reply, stiffening up and holding my own. ‘Sit on one of those chairs.’ I point at the two by the coffee table.
    He falters. He still doesn’t know if I’m joking. I hear Bridget gasp from inside and he grins at me. Oh, his confidence. It really is something. Suddenly he scoops me up and collapses down on the swinging chair, pulling me onto his lap.
    ‘That’s better,’ he says laughingly as