Chapter 2

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1998

I was absolutely furious at my dad.

Let down, betrayed . . . I honestly couldn't believe he'd fucked my mum over like this. And now he'd bought a fucking hotel in the Highlands and pissed off to run it with his mistress. Classy.

I hated cheaters. Always had. I'd only encountered fictional ones in the past though; from shows like "Eastenders" or "Emmerdale" (my mum was a big soap opera fan). My dad was actually the first real-life cheater I'd had the misfortune to come across.

Anyway, we were moving house as a result of the separation. Downsizing to a three bedroom semi- detached a couple of miles away from the oversized fucking mausoleum we'd lived in while he was around and trying to pretend that he wasn't a massive tool. The move itself didn't bother me too much - I didn't have to change school, and I'd never been a particular fan of the old house anyway - it was just the circumstance that had caused the move that was annoying me.

As my mum finished directing the removal guys outside, I surveyed my new bedroom, surrounded by boxes, and wondered where to even start with my unpacking. I was not looking forward to this.

I'd located the box containing my PlayStation (priorities) and started tearing it open, but I found myself distracted by the sound of voices outside. Female voices. Curiously, I walked over to the window.

What the fuck!? Iona Stewart was standing next to my mum.

She lived here? Surely that couldn't be the case? I couldn't be that lucky. Much like the first time I ever spotted her, my heart started pounding hard.

I needed to investigate further, in case I was just hallucinating. I mean, it had never been an issue before but there's a first time for everything. I rushed down the stairs, pausing before I reached the door to calm my breathing down before I stepped outside. I could hear the other woman, presumably Iona's mum, inviting us to a barbecue that night. Oh my god.

"I have another son who's around your age, Iona."

I guess that was my cue.

"Here he is now, actually."

Iona's gaze travelled up my body and finally met my eyes. Shite, I thought as I belatedly remembered I'd not bothered putting my contacts in that morning. Damn it.

"Ryan?" Iona asked in surprise. Her lips twitched upwards.

"You know each other?" My mum asked, clearly delighted. She loved "it's a small world" moments like this.

I nervously nudged my glasses up my nose and walked towards them. 'We're old friends," I managed. I suddenly couldn't stop grinning. It had pretty much always been my default mode around Iona.

Of all the people who could be living across the road from me, fate had chosen Iona Stewart. Consider my mind completely blown!

Somehow I ended up left alone with Iona, and I could barely remember our ensuing conversation. I just know I did not remotely play it cool, while she seemed completely unaffected. I didn't have any other plans that evening anyway but, trust me, if I had, I'd have cancelled them in a heartbeat to potentially spend time with her at that barbecue.

"I'd better head back," she said after putting up with my special brand of awkwardness for a few minutes, nodding in the direction of her house. "But I'll see you later?"

"Count on it," I said, resolving to try and not be such an idiot next time I spoke to her.

I've got to admit I didn't really do that much to prepare for later. I stuck my contacts in, chucked a green and white checked shirt on over what I was already wearing, and ran some product through my hair but apart from that I mainly just fretted.

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