Page 50 of One Night in Edinburgh

‘No.’

‘That’s a relief. Because if there was, I’d be asking for a copy.’

‘Don’t make fun of me, Connor.’ I glare at him in a sisterly kind of way.

‘I’m not, but now I do think you’re overthinking things.’ He puts a reassuring hand on my forearm. ‘What does it matter what kind of date he suggested? The important thing is that he asked you out again. Your last two “hook ups” – sorry to be blunt, but that’s what they’ve been essentially – have resulted in the two of you getting drunk and falling into bed together. Maybe he’s trying to create a different experience.’

It’s like an LED lamp has been switched on in my brain.

‘Connor, you’re a genius. That’s exactly what it is. Jamie said he wanted to get this right. He nearly didn’t come back here the other night for that exact reason. Oh, I feel so much better now. Thank you, Connor.’

‘You’re welcome.’ He grins at me, while continuing to shovel food into his mouth. ‘I’m here every evening.’

‘Actually, you are.’ I eye him as I finally resume eating my dinner. ‘You need to get out more.’

‘I do get out. Was at my mum’s yesterday.’

‘I mean socially. And don’t say your mum is part of your social life. Family stuff doesn’t count.’

Connor stops eating and meets my gaze. ‘Stephy, you do realise thatyou’vebeen my social life for the last ten years. I don’t have many friends who live nearby any more – most of my old school pals have moved on.’

He digs back into his food as a pool of guilt forms in the pit of my stomach. With all this focus on finding Jamie and creating the perfect romance, I’ve failed to realise that if Jamie and I start to see a lot more of each other, I’ll be depriving Connor of his best friend.

‘Um… Connor?’

‘Yes?’ He avoids looking up in way that suggests he knows exactly where I’m headed.

‘I’m wondering… you know… as I could be around less, if I start to see more of Jamie… whether you’re ready yet to consider chatting with some of the online matches Anna’s primed for you?’

I’m expecting to get a Connor-style brush off that will immediately put me back in my box; instead, he takes a deep, contemplative glug from his glass of water.

‘You know, I think I might finally be.’

‘Really?’ I’m delighted to hear this.

‘Yeah. I was chatting with my mum about stuff yesterday and she was so supportive and… almost excited at the thought of me having a boyfriend I could bring home to meet her. The way she talked, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, it made me wonder why I’m letting one bad experience hold me back.’

‘Itisnormal Connor. It’s normal to want to find love – if there’s such a thing as normal, that is. I don’t like that word, or labels in general.’

‘Me neither. But, you know, it’s not that simple. Things I wouldn’t normally bat an eyelid at – like holding my other half’s hand walking down the street, or sharing a kiss in public – are now things I’ll be acutely aware of, because of the way some people are. The threat of homophobia is real, and if I’m honest, it scares me a little.’

I take Connor’s hand and he looks at me with a slightly troubled expression, which makes my heart ache for him – and for every person who has had to deal with the injustice of our judgemental world.

‘Then dip your toe in gently. Maybe we could have some double dates?’

‘That’s a bit of a passion killer for you and Jamie, is it not?’ He smirks. ‘Surely you don’t want to buddy upCelebs Go Dating-style while I pick off one awful match after the next?’

‘I don’t mean like that. I mean when you’ve found someone you like. It might help you feel more at ease, and if anyone even so much as looks in your direction, I’ll rip their heads off.’

‘Is that not more Anna’s style?’

‘Not when it comes to my best friend.’ I puff myself up in my chair to prove my badass-ness.

‘Eh… OK then. And obviously you know Jamie will be fine with this, because you’ve got him all figured out.’

‘Ha, ha, very funny.’ I stick my tongue out at him. ‘Consider it an arrangement in principle. I’ll get him to rubber stamp it this weekend.’

‘Or you could wait a teeny-weeny bit longer.’ Connor illustrates this by holding up his thumb and forefinger poised millimetres apart. ‘Maybe until you know his surname? Or what he does for a living? Or any sort of detail about his life, to be honest.’

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