Page 66 of In the Same Boat

Even asking the question feels dangerous.

‘Try me,’ he says, almost flirtatiously, like he’s getting into character.

I scoot a little closer to him, bringing my body and my face more in line with his. I’m close now, really close, to the point where all I can smell is his aftershave, and it’s delicious.

It’s like I’ve said before, all of the parts that make up Nico are perfectly fanciable – it’s his personality that complicates things.

‘Just like that,’ he says.

‘Like this,’ I say, edging closer.

‘Exactly like that,’ he replies, taking one of my hands in his.

Well, this has escalated quickly.

‘How long do you think we need to keep this up?’ I ask him.

‘Surely it won’t take long,’ he replies. ‘It didn’t take long for them to make us feel uncomfortable. I reckon little more than twenty-four hours. Public displays of affection. Over-the-top flirting. Make them realise how weird this whole set-up actually is.’

I glance inside. They haven’t noticed us yet, but it isn’t hard to imagine Nico’s idea working, because I definitely feel uncomfortable spectating them.

‘Okay, so we match their vibe,’ I say. ‘So they don’t want us hanging out with them.’

‘Or, better yet, they want us to leave,’ he replies. ‘So that they can have the place to themselves.’

I try to contain my smile. This is objectively one of the silliest ideas I’ve ever agreed to – which might be why it sounds so much like fun.

‘We’d have to really commit, if this is going to work,’ I say.

‘Absolutely.’

‘No half-measures.’

‘I’m game if you are,’ he replies.

We go silent for a moment, still inches apart, as what probably started out as a joke slowly starts becoming a real plan.

‘There is one issue,’ I say.

‘What’s that?’

‘They’re too wrapped up in each other to notice us out here, pretending to flirt,’ I point out.

‘Hmm, that’s true,’ he replies. ‘But there is one very obvious way to send the message.’

I look at him.

He raises his eyebrows as he glances inside.

‘We join them in there?’ I reply.

‘Not quite,’ he says. ‘We go to my room – together.’

‘Ew,’ I blurt.

‘We go there, that’s all,’ he quickly insists. ‘I guarantee, their imaginations will conjure up far worse images than anything that could actually happen.’

‘For how long?’ I ask.