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Matteo releases me and shoots him a sheepish smile. "You can't blame me for trying."

“I certainly can’t.” He shoots me a look that says I can take his place, but I wouldn’t presume you want that.

The classic Yorgos charm.

There is something nice about it. He’s good at making you feel comfortable. At making you feel wanted without it being an imposition.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He is objectively hot. I can almost imagine the two of us, watching ourselves in the mirror.

"Should I get you a towel?" He trails off, like he's waiting for me to offer my name.

"Jamie," I say.

He nods, playing along, helping with whatever cover I need. "Of course. Jamie. And your friend here?"

"Matthew," Matteo says.

"That would be great, thank you,” I say.

Yorgos nods, of course. “Keep holding that thought. I’d hate to ask you to leave less nicely.”

“Understood,” Matteo says. He looks at me with that same smile, like he's daring me to continue.

Yorgos goes into the pool house and returns with two bathrobes.

Matteo climbs out without a hint of shyness.

I’m equally obvious are taking in every inch of his perfect body.

He slips the robe over his shoulders and cinches it loosely.

I let Yorgos play the gentleman. He holds the robe in front of me so that no one from the party sees me.

I wrap the terry fabric around my shoulders.

"If you'll excuse me," Matteo says.

He takes his clothes and moves toward the pool house in the back.

And even though he disappears into it, I know he's watching.

I sit on the soft lounger and look up at Yorgos. "How have you been?" I ask.

He looks the same up close. Handsome and charming and worldly.

"What do you want, Jamie?" he asks, all business.

"How about a little small talk?" I try to slip into the role I used to play. The woman who flirts with him just enough that he believes his options are open.

"Usually I'm happy to see you. But if this isn't a social call, I don’t have a lot of time for trading secrets. That’s not what I do anymore.”

“It’s not work,” I say. “I… I’ve been thinking about you, since I got to Athens.”

“You brought your fiancée here, because you’re thinking about me? Is that what you two do?” he asks. “You fuck other guys in front of him?”

That is the most plausible story. And it would be fun to dare Matteo to engage with it. To see if he can handle the possibility of watching me with another man. But that’s not what Yorgos is into. “No. He… he cheated. And I want revenge. Is that so petty?”

“You never struck me as the revenge type.”