2016

Truth-telling had definitely brought us closer together.

I'd started with the breakdown of my marriage. I didn't tell Iona about the frequent dreams I'd had about her; it was a close call though. In the end, I settled for telling her I'd been hung up on a memory, on what might have been. In turn, she told me she'd basically never been in a successful relationship; that she'd been frequently told she was too "emotionally unavailable".

The whisky had loosened my tongue, and emboldened me to be even more honest. So I told her about the first time I saw her, about thinking she was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. Her face lit up at that, and I swear she was even more stunning in that moment. She took my fucking breath away.

Then she admitted to me she knew I'd lied about needing a pen the day we met.

"Your bag was on the floor and wide open; I spotted at least four in there at the end of the class," she laughed.

Then we spoke about the pen I'd given her months later, at how worried I'd been about it showing my true feelings and feeling so exposed. Turned out she really had loved the gesture.

"And I love that you made me this pillow fort, just in case. A wee 'Here's one I made earlier' number like you're a Blue Peter presenter." She was laughing again.

"Well, in terms of showing someone how you feel, I reckon the pillow fort definitely trumps the pen," I laughed along ruefully, and her eyes widened at my words.

"Shit," I muttered. I mean, I knew the pillow fort was a big deal; the fact I'd even made it was a massive giveaway of my feelings, but confirming it out loud really left no doubt.

"It's your turn, I think," I said quietly, turning to look at her, aware our faces were now mere inches apart. We were so much closer together now, both physically and emotionally. "Tell me another truth?"

And that was when she told me she'd wanted me to be her first kiss too.

We both admitted we'd thought of each other frequently over the time we were apart.

These revelations surprised me. Although I had realised she had feelings for me now, I suppose I'd assumed these were recent ones on her part. After all, I'd heard her tell Martin that fateful night that she didn't like me in that way.

Maybe I'd misunderstood somehow?

Then she confessed I'd broken her heart, a tear running down her face.

No longer able to stop myself from touching her, I reached out and blotted the teardrop away from where it rested on her cheek. "You broke mine too," I told her softly, as her own eyes suddenly flashed with confusion too.

And, in that moment, the whole world just fell away. The storm disappeared into a parallel universe, and nothing existed but the two of us, less than a breath apart, gazing into one another's eyes. This was it. I couldn't hold back anymore. It had been twenty long fucking years.

She swallowed hard and, my attention drawn to her neck again, I gave into that urge I'd had earlier to move my mouth to the skin there. The second I touched it, the sexiest sound I think I'd ever heard in my life escaped from her. That low, husky moan left me in absolute no doubt that Iona was as into this as I was.

With that, I brushed my lips against her own, finally. It immediately felt . . . Right. Like this was the place I was meant to have been all along. This was what my first kiss should have been. This is what all my kisses should have been. This was . . . home.

And so fucking hot.

If a relatively chaste kiss such as this one could invoke this much feeling and excitement in me, I could barely stand to think what would happen when we went further. I needed more. Barely containing my excitement, I tentatively ran my tongue along her bottom lip and her mouth parted, inviting me in. She tasted sweet, like whisky and honey, and possibly chocolate. As we breathed life into each other, another moan drifted from her mouth.

It turned into a whimper as I pulled back briefly. I just needed to reposition myself though; we'd started this at an awkward angle and I didn't want to have to stop again. Of course, I had to pause again almost immediately as my glasses nudged against her nose for the third or fourth time - I'd forgotten how much they could interfere sometimes.

"Sorry," I muttered, pulling them off my face. "These fucking things are getting in the way."

I was close enough that I could still see her smile crystal clear, even without vision correction. "They're cute though," she said, resting a hand affectionately on my cheek. "I always thought so."

She had?

"To think I spent so long learning to put contacts in because I thought you'd like me better without them," I blurted out, with a laugh. Her eyes sparkled as she pulled me back towards her.

And with that, the kissing began again, the passion ramping up rapidly. Now we'd started, we couldn't stop; simply couldn't get enough of each other. I was injecting so many years of frustration, of hidden feelings, into this and I'm pretty sure she was doing the same.

Gradually I lowered us down to the floor, bracing myself above her as we continued to kiss. This, I dizzily reflected to myself, my thoughts fractured and messy, might be the best day of my life to date. I broke away from her lips and started to press kisses down her neck again; my hand moved underneath her dressing gown, finding a breast and circling her nipple lightly with a finger. Oh wait . . . And there was that moan again.

Oh god.

"I want to hear you make that sound when I'm inside you," I rasped into her ear. She let out a strangled gasp at those words. I was surprised at myself, to be honest.

I don't know where that side of me had even came from. It was odd, considering I'd been too shy and scared to really ever make a move on Iona previously. But just getting as far as kissing her seemed to have transformed me into a new guy. She was bringing out a whole new dimension to my personality.

"Iona," I whispered, cupping her face in my hands. "I want you so much. I've wanted you for such a long time." Lust-fuelled adrenalin pulsed through my veins, while the love I'd always had for her seemed to inflate my heart. I felt like I was floating. I was definitely high on the addictive substance that was Iona Stewart. My chosen drug for life.

And then I ruined it with my next words.

"I don't even care anymore what happened that night; I just want to move on from it."

Why did I say that? In retrospect, I think I just wanted to reassure her that I could move on from her ghosting me. That whatever the hell had happened that night was in the past.

Also the chemical balance of my brain had been thrown off by my Iona overdose and I just couldn't think straight anymore.

But, as soon as those words left my lips, everything froze. Iona went rigid and rolled out from underneath me, rolled out into the real world outwith the pillow fort, and started to stand.

"Are you okay?" I asked, puzzled at the time. I grabbed for my glasses, as she'd moved far enough away for me to be unable to see any detail in her expression. Not that it really mattered; even once I could view her again clearly, I could see her beautiful face was blank .

"You might not care what happened at prom anymore, but I still do. I didn't just fuck off for an entire summer because of nothing, Ryan. Your actions, what you said, hurt me." Her voice was hard, and sharp as a whip.

"I don't understand." What had I done wrong? Was it because Christine had kissed me? What was I meant to have said? I was so confused. But she was already twisting the door handle, as violently as she was twisting my heart.

"I'm going to go. This was a bad idea."

I couldn't believe this. We'd shared so much tonight, revealed so many feelings, and yet she was just going to storm off without an explanation?

"So that's it?" I asked bitterly. "You're just going to walk away from this? From us? Again?"

She shrugged."It's what I do best," she replied, and she stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind her.

Fuck.

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