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Like one time, when I was still at university and hanging out with Lewis in my room, I was bored and looking for something to do. So . . . I asked Lewis if I could use his dick for a game of hoopla. It was such a stupid request—like, unbelievably ridiculous—but he didn’t even hesitate or question it. He just shrugged, got his thing out, then let me toss bangles at it like I was at the fair. And you know what? It was fun. We both cheered whenever I got one of the makeshift rings on target.

Richard would never agree to something like that—he’d find the idea humiliating. That’s okay—they’re different men—but what I miss even more is the way Lewis’s playfulness could ignite into searing passion in a heartbeat. When the mood really took a hold of him, he’d become like an animal, wild with lust. He’d throw me onto my back, bury his face between my thighs, and eat me out, his tongue and lips making every nerve in my body sizzle to life. Or he’d push himself into me, maintaining eye contact as he teased me with slow, shallow thrusts before quickly working up to a fervour that’d leave me gasping as he drove us both towards ecstasy. When he was like that, the intensity of our sex was off the charts.

Of course, I shouldn’t be thinking about this stuff, but last night in the gym was the longest one-on-one interaction I’ve had with Lewis in years. He was my first, and my childhood best friend, so it’s hardly surprising that the workout stirred up certain memories. But they’re obviously problematic, for a whole variety of reasons.

After Lewis tore all my self-esteem away, I worked hard to restore it. I moved on and built a life for myself—finished my studies, established myself in my career, eventually found Richard. I can’t let my history with Lewis spoil all that I’ve accomplished. Aye, Richard may not be as exciting as Lewis in some ways, but he’s kind, steadfast, and reliable, and that counts for a lot.

Lewis, on the other hand? He knew how my da’s secret tore me apart—he comforted me when it happened and saw what it did to me. He knew better than anyone how important trust is to me, and yet he did what he did anyway.

Well, you know what? I’m perfectly entitled to come back here, to this town where I spent my first eighteen years, and I’m perfectly entitled to find happiness in my relationship with my new boyfriend. I won’t let these old memories ruin that for me. And there’s no way in hell I’m letting Lewis McIntyre, with his unwanted “therapy sessions” and nosy questions about my sex life, fuck everything up.

I clench and unclench my fists, trying to release some of the nervous tension that’s building inside me. When I leave here, I need to be focused and professional, so these thoughts and emotions have to go—for now, at least.

Standing, I head downstairs, give Maw a quick kiss on the cheek, then set off for work.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

IONA

Age twenty

It’s eleven thirty and the restaurant, a burger place, is quiet, although I’m sure it’ll soon be bustling with the lunch crowd. Lewis and I are sipping on Irn-Bru and killing time until my da arrives. The only other table that’s taken is in the far corner, where a young couple, about our age, sit nestled close to each other. The guy has one arm casually draped around the girl’s shoulders, and with his other, he picks up fries and pops them in his mouth as they chat away.

Lewis shifts in his seat, his leg briefly brushing against mine. The contact may have been accidental, but I liked it. It makes me wish he and I could be more open with our affections when I’m up north. I can understand the secrecy when we’re in Bannock, but right now we’re in Inverness, the “Capital of the Highlands”. We’re sitting side by side, so I wouldn’t mind snuggling up to him and having his arm wrapped around me, especially as it’s a cold February morning and I’m still shaking off the chill from outside.

Drumming my fingers on the table, I decide to voice my thoughts. “Is it weird that we’ve not told anyone back home about us? We have been hooking up for a year and a half now.”

Lewis snatches up the menu and holds it in front of his face then peeks out from behind it and puts a finger to his lips. “Shh! You never know who might be listening. Bannock folk are always popping through to Inverness at the weekend.” He ducks back under cover like a really bad secret agent.

I groan. “Stop messing around. I’m being serious.”

He tosses the menu down and winks. “Sorry. I don’t know. Weren’t you the one keen to keep things casual?”

He’s right. University is hard work, and although my inner party animal has emerged since leaving home, I haven’t lost my nerdy instincts. I just wouldn’t have the time for a proper boyfriend. Meeting up with Lewis once a month, or occasionally twice, but being able to focus on my studies the rest of the time? That’s perfect.

“We do need to keep it casual for the moment,” I concede, “but do we have to keep it a secret?”

“What do you suggest I say to my maw and da?” Lewis shoots back. “Nah, we’re not boyfriend and girlfriend—we basically just meet up every few weeks to shag each other senseless. Any questions? Maybe some people can talk candidly about that stuff with their parents, but not me, and I don’t think you have that sort of relationship with your maw either. Besides, can you imagine what my siblings would say? Jamie would have a field day. You’d be able to escape his jokes down in Glasgow, but I wouldn’t. I’d be stuck with him in the hotel, and it’d be nonstop. I’d never hear the end of it.”

I smile at this. Lewis is right: Jamie would tease him mercilessly. “Fair enough. Anyway, I suppose what we’ve got is pretty good, isn’t it? Like, take Charlotte and Erin. I’ve never known either of them to see the same guy more than a couple of times. Generally, they meet someone at a club, go home with him afterwards, have a bit of fun, and then never meet up again. That just isn’t my scene—I much prefer what we have.”

“Right. Your brother does the same thing, and every time I spot him with yet another random lassie, I think to myself, Poor Aidan. Sleeping with all these beautiful young women—that can’t be an easy life. Me, though? I get to go celibate for, like, twenty-nine days a month. I’m living the dream.”

I slap Lewis’s thigh with just enough force to sting. He chuckles.

“There is so much wrong with what you just said,” I accuse. “First, I don’t want to hear any details about my brother’s sex life, thank you very much. And second, you know you’d never find another woman as fun in the bedroom as me. I’m worth waiting for.”

“That is true.” Lewis takes a sip of his drink then leans close to me. “So . . . read anything hot lately? Any new things for us to try? If so, count me in.”

“Shouldn’t you hear the ideas first before saying you’re game?”

He shrugs. “Nah, I’m up for anything.”

“That’s perfect because I’ve been reading about some of the things that dominatrices get up to, and I was thinking it’d be fun to kick you in the nuts. Repeatedly.”

Lewis barks out a laugh. “Piss off.”

“Oi, watch your tongue when speaking to your mistress. I’m being completely serious.” I place a hand on his shoulder and fix him with an earnest stare. “It’s a fantasy I’ve never admitted to you before, but finally I’ve found the courage to open up. You’ve already told me you’d be up for anything, so there’s no backing out now. The next time you come to Glasgow, it’s happening. We’ll buy a bag of ice for afterwards—you’ll want to nurse your poor balls.”