Harper's Holiday Romance by Nicole Spencer-Skillen

Author:Nicole Spencer-Skillen [Spencer-Skillen, Nicole]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-07-30T00:00:00+00:00

9

The next day was Wednesday. There was no normal midweek hump day because this wasn’t a typical working week. It wasn’t a typical holiday week either. The muscles in my cheeks were still hurting from a full two-hour debrief that morning. Billie and Sarah teased me until I slumped back on the bed exhausted.

When Billie started to refer to me as, Harpedo Foxy Smooch, I knew it was time to swap the confined oxygen deficient bedroom for the open air and more importantly the pool. A brief conversation with my mum confirmed that Lady and Gaga were both doing fine. I missed my animals. Mum was under strict instructions to send a minimum of three photos per day.

My heart exploded with joy whenever I saw Julia’s name light up my phone. Who did I think I was? Kissing a woman on holiday like it was 2014, and I was fresh out of adolescence and snogging my way through Magaluf. I did that once in my pre-gay phase when I thought kissing boys was the “cool” thing to do. Urgh.

The kiss with Julia was more sensual than I expected it to be. It was the best first kiss I’d ever experienced. Ever. Which sounded more dramatic than it was. I’d kissed a total of eight people in my life, maybe ten if I included the game of truth or dare at Sarah’s first engagement party. The kisses lasted longer than Sarah’s engagement, so maybe they did count.

It was the only time I’d chosen dare and allowed myself to live a little. I’d needed five margaritas’ worth of encouragement. Alcohol fuelled me exuded a different kind of confidence, and everyone seemed to like having intoxicated me at a party. Sober I was one household spillage away from combustion.

Julia always seemed to be doing something. If she wasn’t on an excursion, she was doing some form of physical activity. That morning she was playing at the local golf course with her dad.

Julia

We should play?

Me

Erm . . .

Julia

It’s fun.

Me

For who?

Julia

You can drive the golf cart?

Me

Now we’re talking . . .

Julia

You get to see me wear super tight shorts.

Me

I need proof.

Julia

Butt goals.

(Attached: photo of bum in the bathroom mirror)

Me

It’s a convincing argument.

She wasn’t kidding. The pair of blue chino shorts were tight enough I would question her ability to walk in them, but she assured me they were a wonderful stretchy cotton blend. She made me feel giddy in an inexperienced youthful way. The kind of giddy that had me grinning beside the pool. I was sun-soaked, lethargic from the lack of sleep, and smiling at Julia’s use of emojis.

Did I have a crush on Julia Hanlow?

It sure felt like it. I had this burning desire to see her again. I tried to relax, but every thirty seconds I would examine my surroundings looking for her. Did it feel more intense because she was unattainable? She lived 3399 miles away—yes, I Googled it. It wasn’t just a car ride up the M62.

I didn’t get on

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