The villa was finally quiet. No more shouting, no more Johnny belting out ‘Wonderwall’ from the balcony, no more Shannon dragging someone into a debate over Love Island. Just you and Gibsie at the pool, your legs swinging in the warm water, moonlight shimmering across the tiles.

Gibsie leaned back on his hands beside you, exhaling deeply. “My feet are banjaxed after today. I swear, if I hear one more thing about who fancies who, I’m jumpin’ into this pool head first and not comin’ back up.”

You laughed, nudging his leg with yours. “Bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“Me? Dramatic?” He gave you a look of pure mock offense. “I’m the picture of fucking calm, so I am.”

You smiled, watching the way the light played off his sunburnt shoulders. Then, almost without thinking, you said, “Let’s go skinny dipping.”

Gibsie turned to you so fast you thought he might’ve pulled something. “Come again?”

You shrugged, casual. “Why not? Everyone’s knocked out or pretending to be. No one’ll see.”

He stared at you, eyes wide, clearly trying to gauge if you were takin’ the piss.

“…You’re not messin’, are ya?”

“Nope.” You grinned. “Unless you’re too chicken.”

“Oh, you little wagon,” he said, but he was already standing up and pulling off his t-shirt. “You throw down a challenge like that, what am I supposed to do? Back down? Not a hope.”

You laughed as he tossed his shirt onto the lounge chair. “No hesitation?”

“Course not."

You stood too, pulse racing, pretending to stay cool as you peeled off your layers and crept toward the edge of the pool. Gibsie was already in, up to his shoulders, slicking his hair back and grinning like the devil himself.

“Well? You gettin’ in, or you just gonna stand there admirin’ the view?”