Page 20

It’s more than an hour later that we find ourselves next to each other again.

I don’t know if he’d been purposefully avoiding me, but for whatever reason we’d been caught up in different huddles of people until now when I turn round to lean back on the bar and find my elbow brushing against his as he slides in next to me.

I can tell from his expression that he didn’t know it was me standing here and he’d rather it wasn’t.

He does, at least, stick around long enough to acknowledge me.

‘Hey,’ he says.

‘Hey.’

We stand next to each other in silence, looking out at the other guests.

The party has been a lot of fun so far thanks to Marina and Anna both seeming determined to make sure I’m not left out.

I guess I am a bit of an oddity; most of their guests seem to know each other, whereas it’s obvious I am here on my own.

The language barrier hasn’t been a problem; it’s almost embarrassing how good everyone here is at English whereas I can barely speak two words of Portuguese and yet we’re in Portugal.

As I do whenever I travel somewhere new and inevitably feel the same way, I make a promise to myself to make the effort to learn another language.

All of their friends have been so warm and welcoming to me, even after I explain what I’m doing here.

Any time someone asks, I prepare myself for them to suddenly come to Leo’s defence or make snide comments about prying journalists, but apparently Leo’s attitude has made me over-worry.

If anything, his friends are impressed and excited by the prospect.

Thanks to Anna’s overzealous matchmaking skills, I’ve had a couple of mildly awkward conversations – that deep-sea-fishing guy, Diogo, cornered me again and asked if I would like to go out in his boat some time.

I said I wasn’t sure I’d have the time while I was here, but thanked him for the offer.

It was also very obvious that Anna and Marina were encouraging their musical friend Luís to make his move, but as soon as he threatened to play a song for me if he could find a guitar, it became clear that he and I weren’t a good match.

I did consider asking them if they might know José, my handsome landlord, in case I should prepare myself for his imminent arrival.

It wasn’t so much of a stretch that they might know him; he’s obviously local to the area and maybe stops by the bar for a drink some time.

But the party is well under way now, the music getting louder, people getting rowdier, and he hasn’t made an appearance, so I doubt he’s going to arrive now.

I hope he asks me on that date soon. I’ve only got one week left.

‘Are you enjoying the party?’ I ask Leo, purely to make conversation.

He nods, watching the guests spilling out onto the decking at the front to dance.

‘People seem to like the wine,’ I note, my eyes flickering to the glass of sparkling water in his hand. ‘Did you not approve of my choice?’

‘It was an excellent choice,’ he says without looking at me. ‘But I’m not drinking.’ He nods to my near-empty wine glass. ‘Would you like a top-up?’

‘No thanks,’ I say, as he reaches for the bottle in the cooler nearby.

His hand drops to his side. ‘So have you got heaps of quotes?’

‘Excuse me?’

‘For the article,’ he explains. ‘You’ve been speaking to my friends today.’

‘I’m not here in a work capacity,’ I remind him a little snappily. ‘I may have mentioned what I do and why I’m here, but I didn’t go behind your back trying to collect quotes for the article. I wouldn’t do that to Anna. It’s her birthday party.’

It’s funny, but with other athletes I’ve worked with, I’ve been able to keep them at a distance in my head – even if they annoy me, I don’t let them in on that.

I try to see them as a colleague, just one I admire.

If they are ever difficult or grumpy, which can happen since they’re under a lot of pressure mentally and physically as they gear up for a life-changing event or competition, I don’t take it personally and I don’t let it bug me.

I treat them respectfully and calmly at all times, and let any of their gripes go.

But with Leo, I’ve let myself slip a couple of times.

I’m not sure it’s fair of me to be snarky.

It’s not too unreasonable for him to question whether a journo writing about him might seize on the opportunity to talk to so many of his friends all in the same place at the same time.

But here I am, pissed off at the insinuation.

I’m annoyed he thinks that’s what I’ve been doing.

Almost as if… his opinion of me matters.

‘That maybe was a bit unfair,’ he says to my surprise. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘No, it’s fine,’ I mumble, placing my glass on the counter. ‘I should have realised that me being here might make you uncomfortable. I didn’t think. I’ll go.’

‘That’s not… I wasn’t saying…’ He stops me as I go to walk round him, his fingers lightly resting on my arm. His touch sends a shiver down my spine. I stare up at him as he drops his hand to his side. ‘You don’t have to leave. I’m not uncomfortable with you being here.’

‘If you’re sure—’

‘I’m sure.’

Nodding, I slide back into my space next to him.

‘Maybe this is a good thing,’ I blurt out. ‘I get to see you in a setting where you’re not worried about anything you do or don’t say. Unlike our interviews, you can relax here.’

‘Likewise,’ he responds with a shrug.

‘I’m relaxed when we’re interviewing.’

He shakes his head. ‘I don’t think so.’

I raise my eyebrows. ‘Excuse me?’

‘Come on,’ he says, giving me a pointed look and shifting his body ever so slightly towards me, resting his elbow on the counter of the bar. ‘You really think that you’re completely comfortable when you’re interviewing?’

‘Yeah, I do it all the time.’

‘You’re very good at pretending to be relaxed, but you’re working too hard to give that appearance,’ he says, angling himself even more towards me, blocking whoever’s on his other side. ‘You’re on the job. I’ve seen you when you’ve been genuinely relaxed and you’re… different.’

‘Oh, what, in yoga? That doesn’t count. It’s a class training you to relax.’

He shakes his head, looking entertained by my riled-up reaction. ‘Not what I was talking about. I was talking about when we were on the beach.’

I quirk a brow at him. ‘You do realise you’re proving my point? I was interviewing you on the beach. That’s why you’re so cross at me, remember?’

‘There were moments during that conversation that you let your guard down too. There were times when you weren’t being an interviewer; you were being yourself.’

‘Maybe I’m really good at my job.’

‘No one’s that good.’

I stare up at him. His eyes bore into mine.

‘Either way, it was nice to see you… stop for a bit,’ he adds casually.

‘ Stop? ’ I repeat, puzzled.

‘Yeah, London,’ he says, breaking into a warm, annoyingly inviting smile, the crinkles appearing in all their glory. ‘You were relaxed. As in, properly relaxed. You can say you were feigning it by trying to trick me into talking to you. But it felt real.’

He takes a swig of his water, letting me soak in his words.

When I still haven’t responded after a while, he gives me a prompt: ‘You all right? I don’t mean to insult you or anything.’

‘No, I’m not… I’m not insulted. I guess I see what you’re getting at,’ I admit, not entirely comfortable with the realisation that he may be right. ‘I did enjoy the conversation. Even if it was on the beach, which I hate.’

He rolls his eyes at that. ‘No one hates the beach.’

‘I do.’

‘Maybe you haven’t experienced it with the right people,’ he says, shooting me a look. ‘You didn’t mind it Thursday evening.’

‘I…’

My mind is racing and Leo chuckles at my furrowed expression.

‘It’s a good thing, London,’ he insists. ‘Like I say, nice to see you chill out a bit. Your natural state seems to be so busy, alert and vigilant, always looking for the next thing you should be doing, scheduling it into your phone, planning to make plans.’

I snort. ‘Oh yeah, “city mode”. Busy, alert and vigilant – you’re making me sound like a meerkat.’

He brightens, ‘Hey, you could do worse than a meerkat. Fun fact—’

‘Last time you said that, it turned out to be about a shark’s dental capacity.’

‘Which is a fun fact,’ he argues defensively. ‘As is the knowledge that a group of meerkats is called a mob. I don’t know why, but I love that.’

I break into a wide smile. It’s the way he said that: so delighted with himself.

Uh oh. Is the emotionally-distant, guarded Leo Silva secretly… cute ?

‘So what I can surmise from this conversation,’ I begin, clearing my throat and looking back out at the party, hoping to distract myself from inappropriate thoughts, ‘is that you’re full of random animal facts and you think I have a stick up my arse.’

He bursts out laughing, drawing the attention of Marina and her friends before they go back to their dancing. It thrills me that I made him laugh like that.

‘You know what, Leo? I might actually take you up on that offer of a top-up.’

His eyes gleam at me, before he grabs the bottle of wine and fills up my glass.

As he concentrates on pouring, I find myself studying him, those long eyelashes, the sharp jaw, full lips and rumpled, brown hair that gives him an easy-going, natural handsomeness.

Gazing at him, you’d easily forgive him for being superior and arrogant.

But now I’m not sure he’s either of those things.

My eyes run down the slope of his neck to his broad, muscled shoulders and back up to his Adam’s apple.

It strikes me that he has a really good neck.

I think about what it would taste like and a warmth throbs between my legs.

‘Here,’ he says, his throat bobbing as he speaks, jolting me from my daze.

My cheeks burn hot as I pull my glass back towards me, hoping he thinks I’ve been standing here thinking completely normal thoughts and not been passing the time strangely fixated on his neck.