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‘Look, if you need me to drop you off in a taxi, I’ll be heading home soon,’ he said, his voice softer now. ‘Just thought I’d offer.’

‘Why would I want to go home?’ I laughed, though it came out sharper than I’d intended. ‘I’m enjoying myself.’

Jamie rubbed his forehead as if I’d given him a sudden migraine.

‘You’re going through something, Harri,’ he sighed. ‘And you’re drinking. I just don’t want you doing something daft because you’re angry.’

My mouth fell open. ‘I don’t even know you,’ I snapped. ‘You’ve seen me in your manky soup kitchen, what, twice? Why do you care? I’m an adult. I can do whatever I want.’

Jamie’s face reddened slightly before he huffed out a quiet laugh, like he couldn’t quite believe the level of diva-ship he was dealing with.

But if he thought I was about to go quietly home like a saddo, he clearly didn’t know me at all. I spun on my heel and strutted back around the corner to where Claire and Joe were waiting.

‘Oft, was beginning to think we’d have to get the plunger out, you were taking so long in there, gorgeous,’ Joe said, grinning.

I laughed, sliding back onto my stool.

But from the corner of my eye, I could see Jamie across the pub, watching, arms folded. His expression was somewhere between that of a concerned social worker and a man reconsidering all his life choices. Why was this guy so obsessed with me? A surge of anger bolted through me and, before my brain could intervene, I grabbed Joe by the collar and kissed him. Hard.

Claire let out a delighted shriek and clapped her hands.

Joe, clearly not one to waste a perfectly good opportunity, wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer, kissing me back with enthusiastic commitment. His mouth opened, his tongue slowly circling mine. He pressed into me and I opened my legs to let him come as close as possible. Heat fizzed through me, reckless and giddy.

Eventually I pulled away, wiping my mouth and bursting out laughing. Joe blinked at me, dazed, then glanced down and pointed.

‘Ah, for fuck’s sake,’ he groaned, blowing out a long breath. ‘Look what you’ve done now, hen. I’m gonna need a cold shower.’

Wow, lovely. OK, still the same old schoolboy patter. My eyes automatically fell to the semi tenting out of his trousers. Jesus. I averted my gaze. Why did I keep doing that?

I glanced back up at him, batting my lashes. ‘Tell you what – make it a hot one and I’ll come too.’

Even as the words left my mouth, I wasn’t entirely sure what had possessed me. Maybe it was the wine. Or maybe it was Jamie still standing across the pub, looking like he was contemplating murder. Possibly both.

‘Do you want to get out of here, then?’ Joe asked, looking like he’d just won the Postcode Lottery.

I mean, technically, he probably had. Two weeks ago, I’d never have given this man a nod in the desert. But right now I needed the distraction. I needed to feel something. Fuck, I seriously needed an orgasm. I glanced at Claire, who seemed all too happy to be ditched, and then I took a deep breath.

‘OK. I take it you have alcohol at yours?’

Joe nodded and swigged down his pint.

‘Will we drop you off in a taxi?’ I asked Claire, nerves swarming my stomach.

She shook her head. ‘No, it’s fine – I know the guys over there playing darts, I’ll have a few more with them.’ She leaned in close to my ear. ‘I can’t believe you’re about to pump Joe Ferguson!’ She squeezed my arm tightly, causing me to giggle because he might be a nobody, but he was still undeniably handsome.

‘You set then?’ Joe asked.

I stood up, finishing the last of my wine. ‘Can you text my mum? You could just say I’m staying with you tonight, please?’ I asked Claire. Knowing Mum, she’d have it on Facebook within the hour that I was missing, and the whole of TikTok would then descend on the Gorbals.

‘Sure! Text me, though, and let me know you’re good!’ Claire dropped me a warning stare.

I stood and yanked at the tiny dress she’d lent me, protecting what little modesty I had left in such a small outfit – then felt a stinging slap on my arse.

‘No point pulling it down, sweetheart,’ Joe said and winked. ‘It’ll be on my bedroom floor in five minutes.’

Wow. I wasn’t sure whether to be offended. But the teenager in me thought – it’s Joe fucking Ferguson. I should be honoured.

We headed outside and walked up the street. Small flickers of light were beginning to appear on the lampposts around us – the council had been decorating the streets for Christmas.