I walked nervously up the path to Adam's villa. Was my hair all right? I'd avoided wearing any makeup because that would look as if I was trying too hard for our study-date. Session. Study-session. I breathed into my hand and sniffed. Good, I wasn't going to knock him out.

I tapped on the door.

"It's open," he called.

I pushed against it, holding my textbook in front of my chest like a shield. As I stepped inside, Adam was walking out of the bathroom, tugging a T-shirt down over his head.

I caught a glimpse of his six—no, wait a minute—eight-pack and felt a rush of heat somewhere I really shouldn't.

Think of boring things, Callie. Like grocery shopping and housework and, oh yeah, dive time calculations.

And don't freaking pant!

I perched on the edge of the sofa, ready to do a runner at a moment's notice. The seat dipped as he sat down beside me, and I tipped towards him. No, no, no. I pushed myself upright and made a show of opening my book. My pen... Where was my pen?

"Shall we start?" I asked.

What was that little smile? Why did I amuse him? "Yeah, sure."

After half an hour of him patiently explaining, drawing diagrams, and walking me through calculations, it finally clicked. I leapt up and did a happy dance, and then I lost my freaking mind and flung my arms around him. Then I realised what I'd done, released my grip, and stumbled backwards over my own damn feet. My backside hit the floor, but was my moment of mortification complete? No, of course it wasn't. The tinny sound of Celine Dion's "My Heart Will Go On" sounded from my pocket, and I felt the colour drain from my face. Drip, drip, drip. All the blood seeped down to my feet.

"What's up?" Adam's voice sounded like it was coming from a distance. "You've gone white."

I fished around for my phone, holding it as if it was a piece of dog turd. Bryce calling flashed up on the screen.

Then it stopped. I breathed again.

Two seconds later, Celine was back, because Bryce never had known how to take a hint. I snatched it up and answered, stalking to the other side of the room. Without thinking, I sat on the edge of Adam's bed.

"Bryce?"

"Of course it's Bryce. Who else would it be?" he snapped.

Why was he being so snippy? "What do you want?"

"Oh, don't play dumb. I can't get into your apartment."

"Why not?"

"Because you've changed the locks, or do you not remember? Really, Callista, I didn't expect such barefaced hostility from you. I'm extremely perturbed."

"I didn't change the locks. Are you sure you're using the right key?"

"Of course I am. We were together for a considerable length of time, if you recall? I believe I can remember which key operates your lock."

"I don't know what to suggest."

"Well, I do. I strongly recommend you return immediately from wherever you're residing and assist me with my entrance."

"Bryce, I'm not even in the country." Tendrils of comprehension filtered into my brain, and I clenched my teeth. "Wait a minute. Why are you trying to get into my apartment?"

We'd never lived together. Bryce had always been reluctant to commit to that without having formal paperwork in place. A marriage certificate. Apparently, a signed lease agreement didn't count.

"Because, Callista, I accidentally left some terribly important paperwork there when I last visited. It is vital that I retrieve it."

"What paperwork?"

"The script for my upcoming theatre role. It had all my notes in the margins."

"Well, maybe you could get another copy and make new notes?"

"Don't you know anything about an actor's craft, Callista? We can't simply improvise on the spot. Every move, every action, every snippet of dialogue has to be carefully considered in advance in order to bring the greatest joy to our audience."

"Look, I can't just hop on a plane and fly back. I've got more important things to do."

And I'd had enough. I was sick of being told how to live my life.

"What could possibly be more important than doing justice to the works of Shakespeare? The Bard's works are not something you can trifle with. Any great thespian..."

I felt a warm body press up against me. Adam's breath whispered across my ear as he said, in an extraordinarily posh English accent, "Babe, whoever that is, you're going to have to wrap it up. I'm not waiting any longer to take you to bed."

Bryce went silent. Although that might've just been because I dropped my phone.

My heart couldn't make up its mind whether to pound like a jackhammer or stop altogether, but as The Ass sauntered back across the room with a satisfied smile on his face, it settled for an erratic rhythm that made me feel faint. My phone... Where the heck was my phone?

By the time I snatched it up. Bryce had recovered.

"Who the hell was that?"

Wow, a whole sentence of one-syllable words. I guess he must have been really flustered. But the part of me that still ached from his "it's not you, it's me" speech couldn't resist going in for the kill.

"Your replacement."

My finger shook as I jabbed at the "off" button, and when the screen had gone dark, I stuffed the phone back into my pocket. Freaking heck. Had I truly just done that? I looked up to find Adam appraising me from where he sat, feet propped up on the coffee table.

"Seemed as if you needed a hand."

"Thanks. I think that's the first time he's ever been speechless."

"The ex, I take it?"

"The one and only. He wanted me to fly back to England because he can't manage to open the door to my apartment. My apartment. Can you believe that? And all because he left his stupid script there. He's an actor, dahling, and he's so up himself. Cocky, and self-centred, and arrogant... They all are. Constantly flouncing around, self-aggrandising... I swear I'm never, ever dating another actor again as long as I live. No, even longer. I'm going to have 'no actors' written on my tombstone."

"That's quite a sweeping statement. Are all actors really that bad?"

"All the ones that I've met are. I don't think Bryce had a single friend from the profession who wasn't a complete prick. So that's my new rule. No actors." I pouted and marched over to the tiny kitchenette. "Do you have any wine?"

I opened a cupboard and found plates and mugs. No good. A glass overbalanced, and I only just caught it, juggling it between hands before it hit the floor. Adam got up and joined me before I could destroy his entire collection of crockery.

"In here," he said, reaching over my head to open a cupboard.

He poured us each a generous glass of red and led me back to the seating area.

"Come on, relax. I don't like to see you uptight."

I deflated. "I'm sorry. Bryce just has that effect on me. It's odd—now that we're not together, I can see how he was suffocating me, but at the same time, I still miss him. It's so confusing."

Adam sat down and patted the seat beside him. "Sometimes it's good to talk about things. Get them off your chest. Why don't you tell me about it?"

As the alcohol took effect, I found myself doing exactly that. And Adam didn't judge. Didn't look at me like I was a complete idiot. No, he merely topped up my glass and listened as I rambled on until I ran out of things to say.

"So, that's my story. Basically, I'm an idiot."

"You're not an idiot. You just cared about the wrong person. You can't change the past, but you can control your future. From now on, do whatever makes you happy."

And it struck me that at that moment, I actually was happy. After his initial surliness, Adam had turned out to be a nice guy. Perhaps even a friend. And I had Gabe, and Kat, and Mo, and then there was the diving... Adam reached out and traced my cheek with a finger, his aqua eyes fixed on mine. Wow. Maybe I shouldn't call you The Ass anymore. The trail of heat sizzled, and I wondered what I'd see if I looked in the mirror. Third-degree burns?

"You call me The Ass?"

Oh, hell. Had I said that out loud?

"Uh... I meant it in a purely complimentary way. You know, like 'The Rock.'"

"Sure you did."

Dammit, why did I always have to screw up? "Okay, so I'll admit I didn't like you all that much at first."

"And now?"

"Now?"

"Do you like me now?"

"Uh..."

"It's not a trick question, Callie."

What was I meant to say to that? Things had been so much easier with Bryce. He'd said all the hard stuff, and I'd just nodded in the right places.

"I guess I don't not like you."

"Okay, I can work with that." Adam broke into a grin. "What do you want for dinner?"

"Dinner?"

"It's the meal at the end of the day. Pizza?"

"Yes, pizza. Pizza's good."

With food, the conversation got lighter. Although it helped that we were both buzzed from the wine. Adam seemed to have a good stash hidden away. When I asked him about it, he said the bottle shop had a "buy twelve get one free" offer and he'd never been able to pass up a deal.

"So that English accent earlier, what was with that?" I asked. "Did you used to live there or something?"

"No, I've just always been good at mimicking people. I used to watch old movies as a kid and copy the voices. My grandma used to tell me I should become an impressionist."

"But you didn't?"

He shook his head.

"So what do you do?"

"At the moment, nothing. I'm between jobs."

Unemployed? Well, at least he was upfront about it. Even though Bryce worked for his father's company in between acting jobs, he'd sponged off me all the time. On the rare occasions I'd mentioned his finances, he reminded me he was a serious actor and was therefore meant to suffer for his art.

Adam seemed to mistake my silence for judgement because he started to explain further. "I had some money saved up and thought I'd go travelling. Try my hand at being a beach bum. I suppose I'll have to go back and join the rat race sooner or later, but at the moment, I'm having a good time here."

"In spite of the company."

"Because of the company. More wine?"

I held out my glass. More wine was always a good thing, right?

Wrong.

I woke up in the morning to a marching band holding a rehearsal in my head, except all their instruments were out of tune. I used my fingers to peel an eyelid open and found I was back in my room. How did I get there? The last thing I remembered was Adam taking the mickey out of my ringtone and us both attempting a terrible rendition of Ms. Dion. Beyond that, totally blank. I lifted the covers. Phew. I was still fully clothed.

A knock at the door sounded, and the waiter was there with my breakfast. Oh, goody. I took one look at the omelette and ran to the bathroom.

Once I'd put on my darkest sunglasses to stop the sunlight burning out my retinas, I picked up a banana to eat later and walked outside. The fact that I was only fifteen minutes late was a minor miracle.

Adam came along his path at the same time and looked me up and down.

"She lives," he said.

"Barely. How's your head?"

"I don't think I've felt this bad since college."

We were propping each other up in the seating area when Gabe arrived.

"Boy, that must have been some party. Where was it? Come on, I want the juicy details."

We glanced at each other, then quickly looked away. Adam answered for both of us.

"No party, buddy. And no details."

That was all he needed to say for Gabe to put two and two together and make sixty-nine. A big grin came over his face as he walked over and clapped Adam on the back.

"Congratulations! About time. We've all been rooting for you."

I jumped up, then regretted it because my head swam. "It wasn't like that! Nothing happened. No clothes were shed. I just got a bit upset over Bryce and drank one too many glasses of wine."

"Bottles," Adam muttered under his breath.

"Fine. Bottles. Can we stop talking about it? I hate being the centre of attention. Everywhere I go, people stare at me. Do either of you know what it's like to have people constantly following you, assuming things that aren't true? Well, do you?"

I was staring at Gabe, but from the corner of my eye, I saw Adam shift uncomfortably.

"Sorry," Gabe said softly. "I was out of line."

The steam left me, and I sagged back into my seat. "Apology accepted. Can we go diving now?"

"Of course, of course. We're back in the bay out front today. The first session will be partly scuba and partly skin diving."

"Skin diving? Like, in just our skin?"

I must have looked horrified because both men started laughing at me.

"No," Gabe said through his guffaws, "It means you don't wear a scuba tank. You can keep your wetsuit on."

"Oh. Good. Then let's get started."

The scuba session came first. We had to take our masks off, swim fifteen metres without them on, then replace and clear them. I was getting good at it, both the mask part and at holding Adam's hand as he guided me safely along the bottom of the bay. In fact, I was even starting to enjoy it. So much that I was almost tempted to muck it up so I could have another go.

Then we moved on to buoyancy control, or "hovering around, watching the fish" as Gabe put it. Except while Adam was watching our finned friends, I used the time to slyly watch Adam out the corner of my mask. Especially The Ass.

Hmm. I was starting to get a little worried about myself.

Skin diving was a different story, though. While Adam and Gabe elegantly soared down several metres, my attempts were more of an inelegant lurch with much kicking of feet. Much like my whole life, really.

When Gabe declared I'd passed that section, I grabbed my scuba tank and hugged it.

"Oh, tank, I'm so sorry I dumped you. I'll never be without you again."

More laughter.

"Your relationship's improved a tad since the first day," Gabe said. "That's good to see."

The afternoon's dive involved much putting on and taking off of gear, both on the bottom and at the surface. I was surprisingly good at it. Probably because every time I'd gone out somewhere with Bryce, I'd taken off and put on at least five different outfits in an attempt to make him happy. He rarely was.

And looking back, neither was I.

At the end of the day, Gabe gave us the bad news.

"You guys have got a couple of videos to catch up on, plus a test to do. I'd suggest we spend tomorrow morning doing that, then take the rest of the day off. We'll finish off the day after with our final two dives of the open water course."

"Sounds fine to me," Adam said.

I nodded my agreement. Much as I was starting to love diving, I wasn't going to say no to a day of R&R.

When we reached our two villas, Adam coughed nervously as we were about to part ways.

"I was wondering if you wanted to do something with me tomorrow? I mean, after the classroom session?"

Was he asking me on a date? I wasn't sure, and I was too nervous to ask. If I did and he wasn't, I'd probably scare him off. And if he was...

Was it too soon after Bryce? Would I just be using Adam as a rebound guy?

I heard Kat's voice in the back of my head. Have a little fun, Callie. Everybody needs to get some.

And what else would I do tomorrow afternoon? Sit alone in my room? Go to the beach and hide from Eid? Get propositioned by some new arrival?

"Okay, I will. I'd like that."

I got another of his dazzling smiles, the ones that were rarely seen but which made me melt inside.

"Great. I'll organise something for us to do. Goodnight, Callie."

He dipped down and gave me a lingering peck on the cheek before walking to his villa without looking back. I couldn't move until his door closed behind him. My legs had stopped working. I reached up and touched the spot where my face still burned.

He'd kissed me. Not with tongues, but it was still a freaking kiss.

The question was, should I be ecstatic or terrified?