Summer Romance

The name of the restaurant I walked past everyday, four times a day, for two weeks. The name of the restaurant which did the best calzone pizza I’ve ever tasted. The name of the restaurant where I learnt a few extra dance moves.

Romance.

The name of the restaurant where I met the most gorgeous guy I’ve ever seen.

I’ve just come home from spending two weeks in the most beautiful country I have ever been to. It was hot and sunny and the beach and sea were incredible. As soon as I landed I felt at peace: I knew this was going to be an amazing two weeks. I’d taken my best friend and a whole bunch of bikinis and I was ready.

Before I went on this vacation, a lot of people had told me that the locals were absolute stunners, the kind of guys that could get you naked without even looking at you. I took this with a pinch of salt: no way could these tanned Gods compare to the incredible lads that attend the University of York.

How wrong I was.

The very first night I arrived I drove past the Romance restaurant. I lived pretty much next door to it and standing there, well, dancing there on the dance floor, was one of the most breath-taking guys I have ever seen. Then and there, I made him my mission.

Before the end of the holiday I would get this guy. Little did I know it wouldn’t take too long.

On the second night, my friend and I popped into Romance for a quick cocktail on the way home. And we got chatting to the guys there. The most-gorgeous-guy-on-earth came over and chatted to us. I was fairly bevvied by that point and decided to ask him if he fancied me; he said no. NO! I’ve heard a lot of crazy things in my time, but someone not fancying me?

Impossible.

It riddled my mind all night and all the next day. I wasn’t used to someone not fancying me. It’s weird, but I think I liked it. It made it more of a challenge for me. I wanted him to fancy me so bad.

The next time I went back to Romance I worked my charms on him. I told my friend I was pulling out my ‘A-Game’ and she looked at me confused, maybe I made that saying up, who knows. But to me, and to her, it meant that I was actually going to try. For once in my life I was going to make an effort. Too long had I just got away with not trying, just being handed things – my life story.

It didn’t take long to get this guy to want me. I don’t know what changed in him, but one night we were at the bar and he asked me if I wanted to talk. He took me out the back of the bar and he kissed me. I had won. But that wasn’t all. I wanted more. I guess to him I didn’t want to be just another girl, (I’d asked him how many girls he’d slept with, he replied 700 – possible language barrier?). I wanted to stand out and be different, as per usual.

I spent two weeks falling for a guy that I knew I probably wouldn’t see again. I didn’t sleep with him, because that’s not me, but I had the best two weeks of my life. I have so many good memories and absolutely no regrets.

It was the perfect Summer Romance.

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