High Heels & Pink Glitter (the heavily edited version)

Not what you think

What do we do now... Grant's invitation hung there, a suggestion and a promise. Kelly might not have had as much to drink as Nell, but enough of the Prosecco fizzed through her veins to make her reckless. "It's too early to call it a night."

He nodded. "Let's go to the Corinthian. Ah ken the guy on the door and he'll let us skip the queue."

The Corinthian's club venue was on the first floor. Kelly hadn't been inside the place in years, convinced her clubbing days were over. Grant didn't feel the same, and encouragingly, the clientele didn't seem that much younger than her. He shuffled the two of them onto the floor, murmuring about how much he loved dancing.

Grant was another Mark. Young, dumb and full of... well, that too, but attractive and hyper-aware of it, flirtatious and with a gaze that could lock on her, but wandered from time to time, its attention hijacked by another woman's flash of cleavage or a show of bare thigh.

Still several beers later and a lot of close-up dancing, she changed her mind. Just because he ticked many of the Mark boxes didn't mean he was necessarily the same, did it? For a start, he didn't mind being seen in public with her and holding her hand. When he insisted on walking her home when she decided to call it quits two hours later, the gesture warmed her.

Ingram Street was busy; the thoroughfare for people walking from Merchant City onto George Square and Queen Street on their way elsewhere or to catch trains and buses home. They reached her door. Did she invite him in, or did she break the habit of a lifetime?

The question must have etched out its own groove in her neural pathways, as it came out of her mouth automatically. "Want to come in?"

He hesitated for a split second, the pause, perversely, making her like him a bit more, before nodding. The lock on the communal entry was busted, and Kelly made a mental note to complain to the factors, irritated that they hadn't yet fixed it after she'd alerted them two days ago.

Grant's eyes bored into her back as she climbed the stairs to her flat. Music from the floor above boomed, and he glanced upwards, while she inserted the key into her front door lock. "That must get awfy annoying."

"It does. Come on in."

Away from crowds and others, he seemed much less cocky and confident, darting glances all around him.

"I love your flat," he said. "The hallway's amazing." He took in the montages, the pictures and the quotes. "Want to gie me the guided tour?"

The guided tour, she suspected, would end and not move from the bedroom. Thanks to the dancing, she had sweated off enough off the evening's booze intake to feel relatively sober.

"You can see the living room. How about that?"

The eyes met hers in amusement. "Fine by me. Can I get a drink?"

She took two beers from the fridge, handed him one and applauding when he opened it with his teeth and offered to do the same for hers.

Sat on her couch, he seemed resigned but not unduly, and began talking, questioning her closely and making her laugh. Cheeky, yes. But with redeemable qualities? Kelly's mind flipped through her memory, seeking out reasons why he wasn't like Matt or any of the men she usually fell for.

Two hours later, he put down his empty bottle and stood up, stretching and yawning. It was three o'clock in the morning.

"I'd better head home. Unless...?"

Kelly set down her empty bottle too and stood up.

"Best we don't." She kept an equal mix of regret and resolve in her voice.