‘Do you know what, Scott-Bloody-Reynolds?’ she asks as they begin the slow stagger across town. ‘You’re much nicer in real life than you let on.’
‘Am I?’ he says, ‘How much nicer?’
‘Two hundred and thirty percent,’ Heather says knowledgeably, and even though it’s all drunken talk, not to mention mathematically spurious, Scott feels his heart expanding. Somehow, the dark fug he’s been trying so hard to navigate over the past seven years lightens a little.
‘And you’re not as neurotic as you first seem, either,’ he replies.
She stops abruptly and pulls him towards her. Her lips come tantalisingly close to his. He can smell the flavoured vodka on her breath. What was that last bottle again? Cherry?
It must have been cherry, because her lips appear cherry red, luscious, dark and moist from the weak light cast by the distant streetlamp.
‘Scott-Bloody-Reynolds,’ she says as she leans in towards him. And man alive, he leans in too because, despite his resolve to push this woman away, his overriding instinct is to let her in, skim her lips with his, gently bite down on her lower lip, just enough to make her …..
‘Oooops,’
Heather topples, loses her footing and falls onto her backside, the moment gone.
‘Come on you, let’s get you home,’ he says, bending down to offer her his hand.
Always the gentleman.
Always the gentleman.
HEATHER
MESSENGER: to
Thanks so much for those awesome photographs. Can’t tell you how much I appreciate you looking out for my boy. We’re both thrilled he’s going to yours in Edinburgh for Thanksgiving!
Heather, lying on her bed, completely clothed, reads the message and groans. So much of last night is a blur.
Including how she got home.
She vaguely remembers groping Scott Reynolds on the way to the bus station and an overwhelming sense of pride at not throwing up on the bus journey home.
Quite how she got from the bus station to her house in Morningside is unclear. It must have involved a taxi. The walk is too far.
She can’t remember sending any photographs to Bethany.
And most definitely has no recollection of inviting Trey to hers for Thanksgiving.When even is Thanksgiving?
She rolls over onto her side.
She’ll reply later.
Once she can feel her feet.
....
....
....
....
Suddenly, she’s bolt upright in bed.
Wide awake.
