James reached over and took my hand and I squeezed it in return. Then a niggling thought taunted me from the back of my mind. If I allowed myself to fall for James, if I did pursue something more serious and long-term with him, where did that leave me and Josh?

Josh and I had said all those things when we were on Mykonos—almost a pact. Off the boat and away from the others, we’d had a lengthy heart-to-heart, promising each other that our friendship—even if that was all it turned out to be—would stay intact for the rest of our lives. We were important to each other. There was love there, maybe not the kind of love you build a relationship on, but real, tangible love.

But I knew that no matter what Josh and I had told each other, or how much we had meant it at the time, there was no way we could remain friends if James and I were together.

Please don’t see that guy, James. That’s what Josh had said to me on our last day together in Greece. And yet, there I was, sitting in James’s car, holding James’s hand, and very much looking forward to the evening ahead.

Did I feel guilty? Yes and no.

No, because—and I realise this is going to sound very Disney princess of me—I needed to be true to myself and what I was feeling. And what I was feeling was that I was falling for an incredible man, a man who hadn’t hesitated at all about expressing his feelings for me, a man who made me feel desired and perhaps even hopeful.

And, yes. Because I cared about Josh, and I’d put him off that week. I’d had to, mostly for my own sanity, but by the time I’d got back to Cat’s the morning after my sleepover with James, Josh had texted a third time.

Hi Sarah, I hope everything’s okay. Would love to hear from you and maybe to FaceTime later. I miss you. Josh xxx

He’d gone from a casual, “miss ya” in the first two texts, to “I miss you”. He’d even added two extra kisses.

Cat had watched me agonise over my reply for nearly fifteen minutes, as I typed and deleted and typed and deleted a response. When I threw my head back with an exasperated sigh, she offered her help.

“Let me see,” she said, signalling for me to hand her the phone. I did and she read his three texts quickly. “He’s keen, I’ll give him that. Do you want to FaceTime him?”

I chewed on my lip. “I don’t know.” She threw me a look. “Well, I don’t.”

“Do you miss him?”

“Honestly, no, but only because you and I’ve had such a great time together—”

“And you and James have had a great time together.”

“Right. That too. It’s just that there hasn’t really been any time to miss Josh. But, when I’m back home, and I don’t have you, or James, or Josh … well, I’ll miss him then.”