‘What?’ he says, the line between his eyebrows appearing again. ‘No, you’re not in my seat. I was actually going to ask if you want to go get suncream. Vanessa said we have fifteen minutes before check-in starts.’

‘Oh,’ I manage to get out. Maybe he isn’t 100 per cent asshole after all . . . ‘Yeah. That would be nice.’

‘There’s a place at the edge of the pier. Let’s go,’ he says gruffly, ducking underneath the overhang and making his way back to the ladder.

‘You don’t have to take me,’ I stammer, but he’s already jumping off the boat. I rush to catch up to him, scurrying down the ladder as fast as I can, forgetting that I’m barefoot until I wince at the hot dock underneath my feet.

‘Shoes?’ He hands me my flip-flops. I barely have them on before he’s striding towards the edge of the pier.

‘Coming!’ I call, but he doesn’t even turn around.

I follow him the entire way to the store, tracking his shoulders as he dodges past tourists and sailors. A small terrier barks at us as we pass, and I wince as my thoughts turn to Murphy. He loves the beach. He would be right at home here. I’m panting by the time we get inside, and I have to wipe a line of sweat from my forehead. A bell above the door chimes. He’s stooped in front of a shelf of sunscreen.

‘This one is best.’ He hands me a large tube.

‘Thank you.’ I look at him and he looks away.

‘No problem.’ He shrugs. ‘Better for the reef.’

‘Right.’ I swallow.

The sun blazes on my skin as soon as I step back outside. I glance at my shoulders. They look pink. How is it possible I’m already burning? I think. I squirt some sunscreen onto my palm and try to rub it on my shoulders while we walk towards the boat, but my tank top makes it awkward, and I end up looking like I’m trying to give myself a hug. I smear sunscreen across my chest and huff in frustration. I’m forced to stop and drop my bag as I try to rectify the situation.

I have one arm underneath my tank top and my other arm bent sideways over my head. I look up to see angry suntan man glancing over his shoulder with a bemused expression.

‘Do you need . . .’ he trails off, his lips quirking up into a smile.

I watch his gaze linger on my belly button now fully exposed to the sun, my shirt having ridden up as I wormed my sunscreened hands through it.

‘Uh, it’s OK.’ My cheeks flame with embarrassment I wriggle my way back to a normal position as fast as I can. ‘I think I got it.’