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I’ve been coming to Coorie & Blether for years, but I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve actually sat down in here. Usually I collect my coffee and hurry back to the shop. When I told Jill we’d be staying, she raised her eyebrows, glanced at Ryan, and did a very poor job of hiding a smile.

We’re at a table by the window, and Penny is snoring on the floor with her chin on Ryan’s trainer. Earlier, she demolished her puppuccino in record time. Ryan took a bit longer to get through his chocolate cake, but now he pushes his plate away, nothing left but crumbs.

“You didn’t have any trouble eating something sweet today,” I observe.

“Aye, well, I didnae eat my body weight in tapas first.” He pats his stomach.

After what he told me on the walk, he’s been letting me do most of the talking, and I’ve been keeping it light. I’ve probably been boring him with work chat, to be honest, but with the biggest wedding I’ve ever done now just three days away, it’s constantly on my mind. I’ve been talking him through it—how I’ve booked a freelance florist to help me on the day, and how Emmy is going to be minding the shop while the freelancer and I are at the venue by Loch Lomond.

Picking at the last corner of my lemon drizzle, I glance at the clock above the counter. Then look again.

“Oh, shiitake mushrooms. Is that the time?” I push my chair back, and Penny wakes with a snort. “I need to get back. I’ve got an appointment at twelve.”

“Let’s go, then.”

Out on the street, Ryan’s hand finds mine. He doesn’t make a thing of it. He just reaches and takes it like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

At the lights, three women are waiting to cross. They’re about my age, though a little glossier than me. One of them glances over and does a double take. Then she nudges her friend, who looks and nudges the third.

“Oh my God,” one of them says. “You’re Ryan Sloan.”

“Guilty,” Ryan says.

All three of them dissolve into giggles. The tallest one tucks her hair behind her ear. “We watched your last fight. You were amazing.” Between the way she says it and her friend looking him up and down, I feel like they’re less interested in his fighting technique and more interested in him.

For a moment, I’m back at the Grove on my birthday, watching Chloe lead Ryan away to pose for photos with her and her friends. I didn’t like that, but I wasn’t dating Ryan then. I am now, but not one of the women is paying me the slightest bit of attention. I’m standing right here, literally holding his hand, and I might as well be a lamppost.

A hot, sour feeling twists low in my stomach. Jealousy. The intensity of it catches me off-guard.

The green man starts beeping.

“Right,” Ryan says. “Best get going. Nice to meet you, ladies.”

He walks me across the road without a backward glance. Behind us, more giggles.

As we continue on towards Rowanbank Street, I can feel Ryan glancing at me.

“What’s up?” he says after a little bit.

“Nothing.”

“You’ve a terrible poker face, flower girl.” He squeezes my hand. “Come on. Tell me.”

“It’s silly.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“It’s just…no, it’s nothing. This is only our second date. It’s not like we’ve agreed we’re exclusive or anything.”

“Ah. Are you jealous, flower girl?”

“What? No.” I swallow. “Well, maybe a little. But Ryan, you could walk into any bar in Glasgow and have your pick. Because you’re, well, you. And I’m just⁠—”

“An absolute fucking knockout,” Ryan finishes. He stops walking and pushes his sunglasses onto his head so I can see his eyes. “How about we make a wee agreement? We’re no sleeping together at the moment—fine. But neither of us does anything wi’ anyone else either.”

He bends until his mouth is at my ear. “Or to put it another way…naebody else touches your sweet little pussy, Briony. You save that for me. And naebody else gets my cock. It’s yours, when you’re ready for it.”

Heat floods my cheeks.