Page 15 of One Night in Edinburgh

‘Then I’d say it’s quite aptly named.’

‘There are a lot of things I wouldn’t want in my beer.’ I smirk. ‘Cigarette ash, the bar tender’s spit, a date-rape drug…’

‘True.’ Jamie acknowledges this with a bob of his head. ‘But also, not pigs. Right?’

‘Right… I guess.’ I screw up my nose in bafflement.

‘You’re cute when you do that.’

‘When I do what?’

‘Scrunch up your nose like that. It’s an endearing characteristic that’s unique to you.’ His smiling eyes – which I’ve now registered as being an attractive moss green – lock on mine and I feel my cheeks burn.

‘Stop it, you’re embarrassing me.’

‘Why does that embarrass you?’ he asks.

‘I don’t know. It just does.’

‘I’m going to guess it’s because you’re not used to someone finding you attractive.’

The weight of this comment slams down on me heavily, and I realise it must be true. All the fondness between Connor and I that I mistook for a lifelong romantic connection must have been totally platonic from his side. Perhaps he didn’t properly realise that – until Rob came along. It means that I don’t know what it’s like to be truly desired by another man – not one I’ve been with anyway.

‘Ah shit, I’ve done it again, haven’t I?’ Jamie’s words break through my consciousness as he gets up from his seat and comes round to sit next to me. ‘Steph, I’m sorry, that was thoughtless.’

I look at him blankly, my mind a jumble of unwelcome thoughts, then shake my head gently to bring myself around. ‘No, it’s fine. You didn’t mean any harm. It was an observation, and a damn accurate one at that.’

‘You’re right, I didn’t mean anything by it, but I could try harder not to send you into a whitey at every turn. You must feel like you’re on a very long and head-wrecking rollercoaster.’

‘Another scarily accurate description.’ I grimace. ‘But… it seems I’ve just reached the highest point, and I have a choice: I can scream in terror the whole way back down… or I can take in the view and enjoy the ride.’

My breath catches in my throat as I say this, and before I even realise what I’m doing, I lean in and kiss him. I feel Jamie stiffen at first, unsure whether to go with it, but then his animal instincts take over: he shifts closer to me, his hands on the small of my back, pulling me even closer into him.

‘Just don’t throw up in my mouth, yeah?’ he murmurs.

On hearing this, I can’t help myself, I burst into loud raucous laughter that, for the time being, has completely killed the moment.

After a pretty steamy make-out session – one that leaves me in no position to be judging Anna for her earlier impulsive rendezvous – Jamie and I head back inside to join the others. My head spins from the exhilaration of the experience, making me feel like I’m a teenager again. Unfortunately, all good things come to an end and after what seems like no time at all, last orders are called, we’ve finished our drinks, and we’re back out in the cold.

‘So…’ Jamie stands opposite me, looking slightly bashful, the light from the main entrance of the bar giving his bearded face a warm glow. ‘That was a fun night.’

‘It was.’ I bite my lip. ‘Guess I’d better get a taxi.’

‘Or I could walk you home?’

I get a fizzy, flip-floppy feeling as he says this. The idea of getting to spend a bit longer with him is super appealing.

‘I’m happy to walk,’ I say. ‘But don’t you live somewhere around here? It would be almost an hour round trip for you.’

‘Only if I take the return journey.’ Jamie’s eyes twinkle suggestively as my stomach just about leaps out of my throat.

He’s suggesting we spend the night together – what’s left of it anyway. My instincts go into overdrive at this thought, competing impulses colliding like feuding stags. The thought of Jamie’s muscular arms wrapped around me almost sends me into orbit, but at the same time, I’m filled with leaden terror at the idea. What if I don’t live up to his expectations? I’m not experienced in the way he probably is. And did I shave my legs earlier? I can’t even remember.

While I’m preoccupied with these worries, guilt begins to nag at my consciousness. Connor may have left, but it’s stillourapartment. How will he feel about me bringing someone home? It might really hurt him. Then I realise how ridiculous that sounds. Connor’s probably in someone else’s bed right now, so why should I feel bad about taking someone back? Other than I haven’t changed the sheets.

I’ll change the sheets.

‘Let’s walk,’ I say finally. ‘Then we’ll see whether you’re on a one-way ticket or not.’

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