No Reservations: Ryan's Version (A Romantic Comedy)

Chapter 16

2016

After heading back outside, my mind working overtime, I ran into Angus. "You alright, mate?" He looked concerned. "How's the head? Did Iona make sure you were okay last night?"

I nodded, immediately regretting it as something inside my brain seemed to rattle. "I'm . . . coping, thanks. And, yeah, she had to put me to bed." I winced, still a bit embarrassed about my drunken antics.

He grinned at that. "She's a good girl," he said, slightly wistfully. "It's obvious she cares a lot about you," he added, seemingly out-of-nowhere.

"What makes you think that?" I asked curiously. Hoping I didn't look too desperate for information.

He shrugged, biting his lip and looking a tad guilty. "I've said too much." He held up his hands, backing away. "I've got to get inside for my shift, see ya later!" He rushed off before I could interrogate him further.

I couldn't help but wonder what he knew that I didn't.

Rather than heading directly back to my room, I decided to stay in the fresh air a bit longer, in the hope it would alleviate my headache even a little.  I headed down to the beach and sat on the same rock I'd encountered Iona on just last Sunday. Had that really only been a week ago? It seemed hard to believe. So much seemed to have changed even in the space of less than 24 hours.

I finally bit into my roll, sighing in delight. It was exactly what I'd needed, the warm melting butter providing a contrast in texture against the crispy roll, square sausage and firm potato scone. I wolfed it down hungrily, realising suddenly that I hadn't actually eaten since the chips in Ullapool the previous afternoon.

I added that fact to the other various reasons for my current hangover, and walked back to my room, hoping I could keep the food down. I was already starting to feel a tiny bit better though, both physically and mentally.

And I might, actually, have a chance to win Iona round.

I needed to play it carefully though. Working together, being her boss, threw the dynamic off somewhat, so I decided to proceed with caution. Try to get our friendship back on track first and foremost. Even if I - urgh - ended up friendzoned once again, at least trying to be friends should make our working life easier. And what had happened the previous night, mortifying as it was, had inadvertently pushed the friendship cog into motion.

So I stopped actively trying to avoid her. That was a fundamental step because I couldn't really start trying to be her friend if I never saw her.

I didn't want to crowd her though. So I very gradually upped my chances of interacting with her, taking my time. I was definitely playing the long game.

And my efforts paid off; our relationship started to drastically improve over the next couple of weeks. The fact I was actively trying seemed to open her up to this option too, and the wall of ice previously separating us started to melt. I started to see the same Iona everyone else saw: the friendly, sweet, hilariously funny version. She was allowing me to see that side of her now, letting me in.

Which seemed to help me lighten up too. Now, that was long overdue. The stress of those last few months in Manchester had changed me, and I'd struggled to get too close to people, or let them get close to me. With the exception of Alice, of course, but she hadn't really given me a choice in the matter.

I knew I came across as a bit uptight to the hotel staff but having Iona, the past version, around again opened me to getting to know the others better. Hell, I even started to become pally with Angus!

But Iona was still the one I wanted to know most of all.

Her brain hosted a terrible collection of dad jokes, literally the worst I'd ever heard. I still laughed at them, don't get me wrong, but the laughter was more aimed at just how bad those jokes were. She would also frequently toss out quotes from "Friends", reminding me of all our discussions about the show back when we were kids. I even finally got to ask her what she had thought about the ending, where Rachel "got off the plane".

Much to my surprise, she'd smiled dreamily. "It's been twelve years and I still feel happy about it," she said softly.

I think that unexpected response made me fall for her even harder.

I quickly found I was craving exchanges with her like an addict; once again, it felt like I was back at school: hurrying eagerly towards my computing class; craning my neck to catch a glimpse of her in the canteen; hearing her footsteps rushing up the stairs to my room.

I was completely and utterly gone for this girl; I knew I'd passed the point of no return a long time ago.

But, the more we interacted, the more I believed there was something building between us. I worried I was being delusional, setting myself for failure and heartache once again, but my heart was already too invested.

One Thursday afternoon, prior to the dreaded upcoming Valentine's weekend, I had just finished talking to a guest in the bar when my gaze fell on Iona. She was helping out temporarily due to a sudden rush of business, and I watched her pouring a glass of wine, her rosebud mouth pursed in concentration.

She was wearing bright pink lipstick that day, which was unusual for her; most days her lips were bare. I couldn't help but imagine those pink lips on mine, wondered how quickly I could kiss all the colour off. I was so intent on my own thoughts that I didn't realise straight away she was looking directly at me. I blushed and looked away, following the same instinct I always had when caught.

But I could still feel her eyes on me.

So I forced myself to look at her again, my heart pounding, our gazes holding.

Then she smiled. My heart practically imploded. There was something different about that smile, and I knew something, somehow, had changed, shifting the parameters of our relationship once again.

And, the next day, what I termed "the facemask incident" happened, and I knew for sure I wasn't in this ship alone . . .

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