Fun In The Sun (Edited and extra chapters) - Repgreece Repgreece (free ebook reader .txt) 📗

Sal and Nick chased and teased each other excitedly down the rest of the street towards the town centre, across the bridge and into a side street, having decided to have a quick drink in the "Catalonia Coast" bar first, before heading for "Saint-Tropez", usually the liveliest bar in town.

As they approached, they could hear the beat of some music coming from inside the bar, telling them that it was definitely still open. At that time of night, out of the summer season, there was only really one guarantee: that "Saint-Tropez" and the Greek nightclubs would be open. But the "Catalonia Coast" bar could also be fun and more often than not, it stayed open fairly late.

In the area between the main doorway and the outer door, the Kamaki, the guy whose job it was to persuade people to enter the bar, gave them each a shot of some pink liquid. Kosta, the bar owner, must have very recently employed this guy for the summer season as Sal hadn't seen him working there before. Also, the fact that he thought he needed to persuade them to enter when they were regular visitors and lived on the island, meant that he clearly didn't know all the locals yet. Still, they took the drinks as Kosta was always more than happy to offer them free shots once in the bar anyway, so they didn't feel as if they were taking advantage of Kosta's attempts to attract tourists.

"Woa," Nick said, reacting to the taste of the shot. "Pink can be unexpectedly deceptive," he commented, holding up the empty glass to inspect it as if expecting to see some evidence of why the tame pink colour had burned so much on the way down.

"We really have to stop doing this," Sal laughed, downing her shot, grimacing and handing the empty glass back to the Kamaki. "Thanks," she said to him before following Nick inside.

Whenever Sal entered the "Catalonia Coast" it always reminded her of a Caribbean bar and she had the urge for some kind of tropical drink. The bar sort of looked a bit like a galleon and there were mirrored advertisements for all kinds of fun, summer drinks on the walls. Sal was quite surprised to see that the narrow bar was mostly full, with only some standing space in the middle between the bar stools and small tables and chairs against the opposite wall.

Despite the crowds, as soon as they entered, Kosta spotted them and gave an enthusiastic greeting.

"Welcome, come in. Sit. You are welcome, Sally," he said, reaching out a hand to her from behind the Vinyl and digital audio systems. Kosta was renowned for his huge collection of original vinyl, which was kept in shelving units behind the bar.

"Hi Kosta," Sal said, taking his hand and reaching across the bar to kiss him on the cheek. In true Greek tradition he kissed her back; first on one cheek, and then on the other. He then shook hands with Nick.

"Marta," he shouted down the bar to the girl who was serving drinks to a table of three guys at the far end. "Drinks here," he said, pointing to Sal and Nick.

"You're so busy in here for a Tuesday night," Sal observed enthusiastically. "That's great," she smiled.

"Yes," Kosta nodded, scanning his busy bar with pleasure. "How are the other bars?" he asked.

Sal always felt a little uncomfortable when the bar owners asked questions like that. She was acutely aware of the intense competition for custom in the town and since she had several friends who were bar owners, she really didn't want to feel like she was some kind of town spy.

"We have only just come from "The Wheelhouse"," she informed him. "So I'm not sure."

He nodded, apparently satisfied without further enquiry. "The Wheelhouse" was practically out of town and didn't constitute any threat to Kosta. Besides, not many tourists frequented "The Wheelhouse"; it was mostly filled with locals and expats.

"So, what you having to drink then, Sally?" Nick grinned.

"I'll have the special cocktail please," Sal said to Marta, who was now waiting to take their order, before turning to Nick. "What?" she asked, picking up on his amusement.

"Sol beer, please," he ordered from Marta, and then addressed Sal. "Kosta called you 'Sally'," he chuckled.

"Yes, he did. And?" she asked with a wry smile.

"He called you Sally!" Nick repeated with more emphasis this time.

"Yeees, and your point is?" she answered.

"Why d'he do that?" Nick asked.

She frowned in confusion. "Because my name is 'Sally'," she laughed.

"What? No it isn't," he came back immediately.

Sal hesitated for a moment before bursting out into laughter. "Are you kidding me?"

"No," he said. "Your name's not Sally," he insisted.

She stared at him with her mouth agape. "How many of those shots did you have?"

"Just one, why?" he asked.

"Because my name is 'Sally'!" she exclaimed.

"Your name is "Sal"," he informed her.

She laughed at him again. "It's the same thing!"

"No, no, it's not. "Sally" doesn't sound right at all," he said. "It's totally different."

"It's two letters more," she pointed out incredulously. She thought for a moment about what he'd said. "Do you really not know my name?" she asked.

He grinned. "Yes, of course I do." She smiled. Thank goodness for that. "It's Sal," he added.

"What? No...well yes, but..." she sighed and then realized that he was watching her with amusement. "Stop it," she said. "You're joking, right?"

"Imagine someone calling you Sally. They obviously don't know your proper name," he grinned.

"Stop it!" she laughed again, slapping him on the arm. She still wasn't entirely sure if he was teasing her, or if he really didn't know that her name actually was Sally.

He held his arm in mock injury. "Awch, you've hurt me now Sally...sorry, I meant, Sal," he corrected.

"Ooh, you wretch!" she exclaimed, lunging for him again. He caught her arm this time though and made an attack on her ribs with his fingers. She yelped and wriggled about, frantically trying to free herself but was barred from escaping by a strong arm around her middle. Between his attacks, they stopped suddenly for a second and froze to see that all the people around them had turned and were watching them.

"Here," Greta said, placing their drinks on the bar. "One Catalonia Special cocktail and a Sol beer."

They both laughed then and, with the arm that had trapped her, Nick pulled her tightly against him momentarily to kiss her on the cheek, whispering, "I've missed teasing you senseless, Sal," before finally releasing her to reach for his beer.

She grinned and reached for her cocktail too. Taking a sip though, she exclaimed, "Woa, that is strong!"

Nick peered at it. "Oooh," he said, as if having discovered something important from just looking at it. "It's pink," he pointed out.

She frowned. "What does that mean?"

"It means... it's probably the same stuff as in the shots we had when we came in." He shook his head. "Potent stuff that is, Sal."

She held it at arms length then as if it were dangerous. "Do you think it is? You need to try it to check," she said, holding it out to him.

He eyed it dubiously. "You're going to make me be guinea pig for you, aren't you?"

She nodded.

"Ok, give it here," he said, accepting the glass and taking a sip through the straw. He swallowed and winced. "Yep, it's that same stuff. What do they put in that? It's got to be close to one hundred per cent alcohol." He took a swig of his beer to take away the taste.

"One hundred percent alcohol isn't pink, is it?" she asked, studying the glass.

He gave it some thought. "I don't think so," he replied.

"So it must have something else in it then," she chuckled, taking another sip cautiously. "Oooh, I think that's going to my head," she said.

"I think it's already gone to mine," he laughed.

She took another sip.

"Do you think that's wise?" Nick asked.

She giggled. "I think I'm getting used to it... I quite like it now," she grinned as her head began to feel nice and fuzzy.

Ooh, there it was. He'd seen that look on her face before. Even recently, earlier that night, when she'd asked him that outrageously suggestive question, "Are you a naughty boy, Nick?" That had been after she had drunk shots too. It seemed as though she got to a point, after a certain amount of drinks, when all her inhibitions slipped. Now he couldn't work out if he was concerned that she was drinking that very strong drink, or if he was excited by that mischievous look on her face. Damn, who cared about the alcohol, he was excited, definitely excited! Not to say that he wouldn't look after her of course...if looking after her meant taking all her clothes off and... no! No, he wouldn't do that, they were friends only.

"Nick," she began, all wide eyed and not so innocent, "Will you make sure you get me to bed?"

Oh boy! So much for his 'they were just friends' resolution.

"Oh no," he laughed. "Don't start with that kind of talk, Sal."

"What?" she grinned.

"You know what?" he came back.

She giggled.

To hell with it, why couldn't they just make crazy, mad, passionate love? He wanted to. She wanted to. She had said so earlier that night... well, okay, she hadn't been talking about doing it with him, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he could make it so 'mind shattering' for her. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

And it wasn't as if he was the kind of guy who went around hurting women by sleeping with them just for the sake of it. Besides, he really liked Sal...he would never want to hurt her. Maybe that was the problem. On the one hand, he wanted to rip all her clothes off and have his wicked way with her. But on the other hand, he really cared about her... as a person...as a friend. And in his head, those two things just didn't go together. How could they? And yet, in was an undeniable fact that with Sal, those two things were indeed happening at the same time.

Sal took another sip of her drink. "Ohh, I think I am getting to like it," she said. "It makes me feel all funny."

Nick wondered if making her feel all funny really meant, making her feel extra sexy. He liked that thought. In fact, he was so distracted by it that he suddenly realized Sal was talking to him again.

"Are you getting to like it too then?" she repeated.

"What?" he asked.

"That," she said, glancing down at the shot glass of pink liquid that he was holding.

He looked down at the shot glass in his hand and startled himself. "Woa, where did that come from?"

"He gave it to you," she giggled, glancing at the Kamaki as he walked from the bar, past them and back to the entrance again with a tray full of shots.

"What's he trying to do? Kill me with pink alcohol," Nick said, discarding the shot glass on the bar.

"You're so funny," she laughed.

Then he thought for a moment, shrugged and picked up the shot glass again, downing the shot.

He shook his head. "Woa," and then laughed. "I must admit, its appeal increases the more you drink of it."

She laughed and took a cheeky sip of her cocktail,