Argh, it's awkward. Oh-so-very awkward.

And I'm desperate to diffuse the situation.

"The restaurant incident is really the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to you?" I try to keep my voice light. Like I'm trying to coax a nervous cat down from a tree. (Which I feel is something I'd never be trusted to do. Someone would probably have to call the emergency services for me, rather than the cat.)

Ross shrugs, looking away from me. "It's the freshest memory in my head, that's for sure," he says, grimacing.  His eyes flick back to meet mine. "So it's not yours, then?"

"Oh, it's up there, believe me!" I nod vigorously, determined to try and keep him engaged. "I mean, if I had to list my top 5 mortifying moments, it's definitely featuring. But does it beat falling off a stage during my primary school nativity play? Or being trolled in the tabloids after they posted a terrible picture of me? Or my blouse popping completely open during a job interview? I'm really not sure."

His brow furrows, although he briefly looks like he's trying to conceal a smirk. I also can't help but notice his eyes dip momentarily to my chest at the mention of my fashion faux-pas, although he immediately reddens and averts his gaze, so it's thankfully not a deliberate Marty-style move. "That's a . . . Lot of bad luck," he says quietly.

"Yes," I confess. "And I'm very sorry you got caught up in that. You have no idea how sorry!"

Ross bites his bottom lip, as if he's considering how to respond to this, but at that point, Facilitator Penny shouts out tell us to switch partners again, and he moves on without looking back. Damn it.

And now I'm standing facing . . . Hold on a minute . . . how have I ended up with shady Marty again? I'm sure that's not how this is meant to work!

"What's your favourite food?" Penny asks us, and Marty's corresponding grin is disgusting.

"Chocolate body paint," he tells me. And this is the point where I need to briefly excuse myself from the room because I've definitely already had my fill of this dude, and I'm close to throwing up in my own mouth.

When I return from the loo a few minutes later, Speed Confessions is thankfully drawing to a close. We're then informed that our next task is to line up in order of how long we've worked in the college, from the longest duration to the shortest.

Well, this should be easy enough - for me, anyway! I position myself at the "shortest" side, and a moment or two later, I'm joined by a slightly reluctant looking Ross. "I think I'm the newest apart from you," he says. I hope I'm not imagining the fact that his voice seems slightly warmer than it was earlier.

It is starting to feel like the universe is throwing us together, whether he likes it or not.

But don't say that out loud, Skye!

"So . . . For our next activity, we're going to relive our childhoods!" Penny announces.

"I dread to think what she means by that," I mutter, and Ross hums in agreement.

"Yeah. I'm now expecting my primary school bully to make an appearance and give me a wedgie," he says dryly. Thankfully, Penny does elaborate on her confusing statement, although her big reveal isn't much more pleasant, in my opinion!

"I'm going to pair you all off into teams, and we're going to recreate some classic sports day activities down on the beach."

Ugh, sports!

And, of course, because fate is apparently commanding it, she puts Ross and me together. I try not to be too insulted when I hear him sigh.

"I should probably warn you I'm not athletic at all," I find myself admitting as we follow everyone outside. Might as well set the bar low in advance to avoid any further disappointment. "I once managed to face-plant into a muddy puddle during a 5k charity run. Which was yet another embarrassing moment. Oh, and that also made the papers, although it was the free local newspaper rather than  a tabloid that time."

I'm gratified when he actually laughs at this. It's the smallest of chuckles, barely discernable to the human ear, but I'm still taking the victory. Even if it is at my own expense.

"I'm really not sure I should risk being around you," he says after a moment of silence. "I have enough bad luck of my own without getting caught up in yours, too."

Although his tone is light, it's hard to tell if he's joking or not. And I realise this was one of my fears - that he might not want to be infected by the Tornado Skye curse, like so many others.

"Maybe my bad luck can somehow cancel out yours, and vice versa!" I argue eagerly. "Two negatives make a positive after all, right?" I think that's correct, anyway.

He sighs. "I guess we'll see." There's a ghost of a smile playing on his face, though. Despite everything, I'm fairly sure the vibe check is telling me he does like me. That he finds me as attractive as I find him, even though he's trying to fight it.

"Look on the bright side; maybe there will be an egg and spoon race!" I urge him, keen to remind him of our initial phone connection. "You're an expert at those, after all, right?"

"That's true - I am unbeaten. Pun not intended." He flashes me an unexpected cheeky smile then, and I metaphorically melt. I want to mentally store up his grins and organise them by type so I can take them out and examine them at my leisure and analyse what each one really means.

Yes, I have problems. And no, no one is currently looking into them. 

Sadly, there are no egg and spoon races on the agenda. First up is a wheelbarrow race. 

"I'll be the wheelbarrow, and you can guide me," Ross volunteers.  

And, hey, it turns out I am an arse girl after all. Because I'm getting a great view of Ross' pert little butt in this position. I'm also seeing the tiniest edge of black boxer shorts peeking out the top of his jeans, and it makes me want to investigate further.

Concentrate, Skye! I chide myself as we get ready to race. His bum will still be there to gawk at afterwards.

Somehow, we win - I guess we were the best of a bad bunch. . . Or maybe we should give Ross' impressive arm muscles the credit! Either way, the most important thing for me is his sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks when he raises a hand to return my victorious high five, and it finally feels like he's properly Team Skye. This is the guy who flirted with me on the phone.

And I'm having a lot of fun with him. 

We take part in a bean bag toss next, followed by a gruelling tug of war, and I'm already knackered when Penny produces further lengths of rope from her bag of tricks.

"Now it's time for our last sports day activity," she announces.

"Sorry, Penny, I'm not really into getting tied up," Gareth says jokingly. I'm pretty sure I hear Marty mutter, "You're missing out," in amongst the giggles. Someone fire this man already!

"Relax, we're just doing a three-legged race." Penny rolls her eyes at Gareth and drops down in front of me and Ross, looping my right ankle and his left together practically before we've got a chance to object. She's way too good at this - maybe she and Marty should spend a bit more time together!

I'm uncomfortably aware now of being tethered to Ross. We're forced to stay close, side by side, his body burning against mine. "This is not uncomfortable at all," he murmurs, although his voice is suddenly almost as warm as his skin. And I'm suddenly very thankful for Penny and her ridiculous activities. 

I can't remember if I actually had the dubious pleasure of taking part in a three-legged race as a kid, but I'm definitely not good at it as an adult. Trying to coordinate our legs moving together at the same time is proving difficult for both of us, especially on the sandy surface, and I'm not sure which one of us overbalances first but one second we're stumbling in a wonky line towards the finish, and the next we're a tangled heap of laughter on the beach.

"Are you okay?" Ross checks worriedly once we both get our breath back, his face hovering over mine. "I'm so sorry - I think that was my fault."

"Oh, come on, it was definitely mine." I choke out a giggle. "You know first hand what I'm capable of." Hopefully, it's okay to joke about that now. 

"That's a good point." Humour sparks in those dark green irises. "You've got sand all over your face," he adds, and he's suddenly delicately brushing it off with his fingers. And nothing is funny anymore as his eyes darken and my breathing quickens.

Lust coils low in my belly. And I know I'm not imagining that he feels it too.

"Are you both alright?" Penny interrupts the moment. Probably for the best given, we're surrounded by colleagues and temporarily seem to have forgotten that!

Ross clears his throat and sits up, fumbling to untie the rope binding us together. "We're all good," he says briskly. 

"No lasting damage," I add brightly, for the benefit of the audience.

I'm already slightly worrying about the potential risk to my heart though . . .