Skye and the City (A Romantic Comedy)

Chapter 14

When Sylvia said there would be a lot of free food, she wasn't exaggerating. There have been copious breaks for snacks - as well as a massive lunch - and by time dinner rolls around, I'm actually wondering how I'm going to possibly fit any further sustenance inside my body. I'm fit to burst.

On the upside, my hangover is long gone. Which is very handy because dinner is when the promised free booze finally starts making an appearance!

Gareth, to the left of me, proffers a bottle of chenin blanc in my direction. "Want some?" He asks, and I nod vigorously in response. Despite all of today's bonding activities, most of the people in the room still feel like virtual strangers to me. Which should be a good thing - this is what I wanted when I moved to Glasgow, after all - but it makes me nervous being around so many. I take a massive fortifying gulp of white grape, followed by a deep breath.

I am way out of my comfort zone. In a whole other galaxy, in fact. A galaxy that's not even adjacent to my comfort zone!

I'm also very aware of Ross Macallister's presence. Even though he's on the other side of Gareth, and I can't technically see him, it doesn't seem to matter. I'm like a visually impaired person whose other senses have been heightened when it comes to Ross. I'm aware of the low husky hum of his voice on the rare occasion he speaks; I feel like his scent is still lingering inside my brain from our close contact earlier; and the ghost of his hand on my face still remains.

Dinner is delicious, but it's way too much, and I find myself picking at it. I'm grateful I've restrained myself when dessert turns up, though, because it's sticky toffee pudding with custard, and you best believe I want to eat all of that! I polish it off with the same gusto I ate that first roll and sausage this morning.

After dinner and a generous amount of wine, everyone decamps to the bar, where we're handed three "drink vouchers" each. We're told we can swap each one for a small glass of wine, a beer, or a spirit and mixer.

"These don't exactly look very professional," I say, studying one of the vouchers.

"Hey, I made those!" Gareth protests, blushing. "Look, someone asked me to knock them up in a hurry  when they remembered they can't just use those regular bog-standard raffle tickets anymore. Not after last time."

"What happened last time?" Ross asks curiously. He's now sitting opposite me, and I'm desperately trying to avoid looking at him too much. Unfortunately, it's like trying to resist the pull of a magnet.

Hayley - the Robin Hood fox lover who I  found myself bonding with further over the course of the afternoon - starts laughing at the memory. "Last time we had an event with free drinks, someone went to WH Smiths, bought another book of raffle tickets that looked identical to the drinks tickets, and distributed those too. So everyone ended up even more moroculous than usual!"

"And the college ended up owing a shitload extra money to the venue," Gareth chimes in. "They were not happy."

"What happened to the culprit?" I wonder. I'm more impressed with their ingenuity than anything else, to be honest.

"He quit before he could be fired." Gareth shrugs. "But anyway, that's the reason why you're stuck with these eyesores I created. What do you want to drink?" He sticks his hand out so we can all pass him a voucher, and Hayley follows him to the bar to lend a hand.

And then I'm alone again with Ross. The first time since that brief moment on the beach this morning. Tension thrums a drumbeat between us - thick and heavy. It feels like every nerve in my body is on edge. It's terrifying, actually, because if he makes me feel this way in a crowded room, how could he make me feel if we were properly alone?