2016
After my most recent awkward interaction with my former guy BFF, I debate what to do next. Go back to bed? Take myself for a walk? Try out the gym . . . or maybe just scream at the sky in frustration for a while?
Okay, perhaps the last option is a little overdramatic. But my unwanted feelings for Ryan are definitely getting to me. Being in close proximity to him is going to be harder than I thought.
But he's going to have to warm to me at some point, regardless of how he's actually feeling. It's going to be impossible to work together otherwise.
Not for the first time, I wonder if I made the decision to come here too hastily. Despite thinking the opposite just five minutes ago.
My brain is already fried. Don't even get me started on my heart.
I decide to go for a shower and wash my hair. Weirdly, taming my curls always calms me down. It took me a long time to get them back after years of killing my mane with straighteners, and I had to experiment a lot with different products but I finally was rewarded for my efforts. So now I have a routine in place, and a lot of pride every time my hair dries the way I want it to. I'm in control of something in my life at least.
After I've smoothed gel through my hair and scrunched it up, I turn my attention to my face. Another bloody minefield. I have wasted way too many hours of my life researching skincare and, to be perfectly honest, I'm still none the wiser. So I do my lazy routine - some cleansing oil followed by a few drops of hyaluronic acid serum - and slather moisturiser over my face and neck, before I arm myself with my make-up bag.
By the time I've turned myself into something resembling a human, it's a little after ten o'clock and now I'm wondering again "what next?" Go to mass? I have to laugh at that random Sunday thought; I think the last time I set foot in a chapel was for a wedding about ten years ago. That would probably be my mum's suggestion though if she were with me. She likes a good mass.
As I'm pulling a warm jumper over my head, there's a knock at my door. I'm delighted to see it's Angus; I'm craving some human contact that isn't colder than that loch outside appears to be.
His infectious grin immediately warms me up. It's a soothing balm after the sting of Ryan's attitude towards me. "You got any plans for today?" He asks and I shake my head. "I was planning on popping up to Ullapool for some supplies soon if you wanted to join me?"
I lean against the doorframe, scrunching my face up in mock indecision. "Do you promise not to drive like a maniac this time?" I'm only half-joking. I also think I might be flirting a bit. Partly because my confidence needs a boost but also because I'd forgotten how bloody hot he is.
"I'll do my best," he says, winking.
"Then how can I refuse?"
He tells me he'll meet me out front in an hour and I watch him as he pushes open the main door to the building and saunters outside. He has a very nice arse, I note.
Wow, I am perving all over the place today.
It suddenly strikes me, out of the blue, that it's been over a year since I've actually had sex. And I've obviously not been particularly missing it, or I would have considered this sooner. But now . . . Now, with gorgeous men like Ryan and Angus around, I'm bound to start feeling a little horny.
Okay okay, a lot horny. I will hold my hands up and admit it.
"You do realise he's only 23."
I almost burst out of my own skin in fright as Ryan's voice cuts through the quiet corridor from a few feet away. He's now, thankfully, fully dressed in a slim fitting blue shirt and black trousers, and I'm surprised that he lives in this staff block too. I figured he probably stayed in the hotel itself but, oh no, of course he's in the room right next to me.
We share a wall.
"What's your point?" I'm being snippy. But his caustic comment has set the tone of this conversation. This is all on him.
"Just saying." He dips his head down slightly, bracing a hand against the wall. He swallows hard and then looks up at me from under his brows. "He's a lot younger than . . . Us."
His eyes are exactly the same colour as his shirt. Did he use some sort of colour-matching service? I refuse to let them distract me though. I'm assuming he thinks I'm planning on performing the horizontal lambada with Angus. I mean, it's a consideration I suppose, but unless it's against HR policy it's precisely fuck-all to do with him.
"Good for him. I don't see why that matters."
Ryan takes a deep breath and pushes away from the wall, his gaze drifting away from mine. "Just . . . Be careful," he says cryptically as he draws level with me.
He opens the main door and is about to exit but his hand pauses on the handle. His other hand is clenched by his side and he doesn't turn around, but I'm surprised by his parting words.
"Your hair looks pretty. It reminds me of . . ." He trails off abruptly. "Never mind." He shakes his head and stalks away, the door slamming shut in his wake.
What the hell was that? I stare after him through the glass panel and, yes, I am staring at his arse, but I'm also wondering what the end of that sentence was going to be.
After an hour of doing nothing except playing a word game on my phone or Instagram viewing, I pull my coat on and head outside. I probably need a hobby for my free time, I think wryly.
Maybe hill-walking? I could become one of those Munro-baggers. But the idea of climbing a mountain in the cold, with risk of ice and snow, does not appeal, even if it's worth it for the view from the summit. Perhaps that can be my summer activity, I decide.
"What are you so deep in thought about?" Angus asks me cheerfully as I climb into the car. I shrug.
"Thinking about hobbies. How do you keep yourself busy in your spare time?"
He scrunches his face up. "I mostly just get stoned and watch TV." I blink in surprise and he laughs. "Just kidding. I cycle a lot. Run a bit. Then I recover by getting stoned and watching TV." I'm not sure if that's still a joke. Oh and there's that wink again. "If you ever care to join me, just say the word."
"I'll let you know," I say dryly. I'm not really a fan of hash. Alcohol is my drug of choice, and I'm not even very good at that. Although I think I'll stock up on some wine while we're at the supermarket.
It only takes another 20 minutes of driving and easy banter to reach Ullapool. "Inverness has bigger shops but I prefer coming here," Angus tells me as we jump out of the car. "Have you been before?"
"To Tesco?" I joke. "Yes, I have some experience of that." He chuckles. "No, I've never been this far north before actually. My grandparents lived in the Cairngorms when I was growing up so we spent a lot of time there on holidays, but we never went further than that."
His eyes light up. "I love the Cairngorms," he enthuses as we walk into the shop. "But it's amazing up here too. You need to go to Torridon at some point. Honestly, it'll blow your mind."
We agree to separate in the store to get our own shopping. I throw a few different types of cheese into my basket, along with some nice bread and, of course, wine. Then try to balance the decadence out with some frozen veg, noodles, pasta and sauces. I'm going to try not to be super unhealthy while I'm up here; I'm not actually on holiday after all, although it does admittedly feel a bit like that right now since I haven't started work yet.
I sneak a few large bars of chocolate in, as if I'm somehow fooling my own brain. I tell myself that's okay because they're dark chocolate and organic. Sooo good for me.
I am the Queen of self-denial.
"You want to grab some lunch?" Angus asks after we've loaded the bags into the car. I briefly worry about the frozen goods then remember it's only about five degrees Celsius so they probably won't defrost. I nod, realising I'm far hungrier than I realised. The last thing I ate was the cranachan.
We find a pub and, given it's barely midday, I order a Coke, while Angus gets a coffee. "What do you think?" He asks. "They do a full roast lunch here on a Sunday. The works. Should we?"
"You were coming here for lunch no matter whether I said yes or no, weren't you?" I tease and his smile widens.
"Guilty as charged. Now, are you getting the roast or not?"
So we tuck into mouthwatering beef, perfect roast spuds and probably the tastiest Yorkshire puddings I've ever eaten. I do love a roast dinner. Although I'll have to punish myself on the treadmill later. "You'll need to show me where the gym is when we get back," I tell Angus. "I'll probably have to run for a good few miles to work this lot off."
Angus' wide mouth curves up in a grin. It's slightly crooked and extremely enticing. "I don't think that's something you need to worry about," he says. His voice seems deeper than normal as he briefly scans my body before his hazel eyes settle on my face again.
I don't even think he means it in a deliberately seductive way. But goodness, something down below twitches in response to the brazenness in that look.
Ryan is probably right though about the age thing. Because I can't help but think about the fact that while me and Ryan were sitting next to each other in computing, debating Oasis vs Blur, Angus would have been a toddler debating potty vs nappy. Damn, Ryan's got in my head.
All the same, I feel myself blush at the compliment. I remember that date with John, where he made me feel self-conscious about my body for all the wrong reasons. As we finish eating I find myself recounting the details of the date to Angus, and his eyes narrow in disgust.
"Arsehole," he spits out. "Definitely sounds like he has issues."
I nod. "For sure." I bite my lip. "I've - uh - had similar things said to me - and about me - in the past so it's a bit of a trigger for me."
"Well, he's the problem, not you," Angus assures me. And then he smiles and pulls me to my feet. "C'mon, let's get back to the hotel before your vegetables get . . . Well, even colder I suppose."
When we get back, it's close to three and the sky is already starting to darken. Sunset already isn't far off at this time of year. Angus finds me an empty cupboard in the kitchen and helps me put my groceries away, warning me that I might want to keep the best items of food like chocolate and wine in my own room as one of the cleaners likes to eat other people's food. I decide to take the cheese and bread there too. If someone eats my favourite food, they're at severe risk of murder by fork.
"Right, I need to get changed and head to the bar for my shift," Angus says, after a quick check of his watch. "Will you be over there later?"
I shake my head. "I think I'm just gonna stay in my room tonight. Get my head in the game for my first day." And avoid Ryan of course.
"No worries," he replies easily. "I'll see you at some point tomorrow then."
Going back to my room, I run a bath and lie in it until my skin prunes. Then I watch some TV with a glass of wine and, when I get hungry again, I roughly chop up some brie and slather it on bread. It tastes amazing. I decide to have an early night.
And the whole time I'm wondering what it was that Ryan didn't say earlier.
Is Ryan jealous??? And what was he going to say to Iona before he changed his mind?
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