According to Google Maps, it takes approximately 15 minutes to walk home from Jinty McGuintys.

It takes us twice that amount of time.

We've barely cleared the pub before Ric pushes me up against a wall, crushing himself and his lips against me. Kissing me like it's the end of the world, and he's utterly hellbent on making the most of his last moments.

Heck, if the apocalypse chooses to appear now, I'm not sure I'll even register its presence before it obliterates us entirely. I'm not even certain I'm on this planet anymore. I've practically forgotten my own name.

"Abby," Ric groans against my mouth as he finally pulls away. "You have no idea what you're doing to me."

Actually, I'm pretty sure I do have an idea. His erection was hard against me throughout the entirety of that kiss. I couldn't have missed that if I tried.

Maybe we should be rushing back to the flat, keen to get on with the main event in private . . . But instead we are apparently prolonging the lead-up to the inevitable. I'm suddenly becoming familiar with many dark corners and doorways in the west end of Glasgow, as we find ourselves stopping every few minutes to neck like teenagers.

Between these frequent kissing breaks, we talk first impressions. "You were exhausting," he tells me teasingly, threading his hand through mine, as we reach the Botanic Gardens. Only five more minutes until we're home. "I thought you were going to be impossible to live with. I was so annoyed at myself for fancying you."

"You practically stood me up when I came to view the flat; I think I was entitled to be a little bit arsey," I counter, swatting at him with my free hand. "And you started stealing my food almost immediately. I could have throttled you."

"Well, if you're into that sort of thing . . ." He jokes, winking. He seems . . . different somehow tonight? Lighter? Happier? Maybe it's because he's actually letting me in for once. "Taking your pizza was meant to be a one-off; I was going to leave you a note to apologise in advance, but I was genuinely just too distracted by work." He grins. "But then you started hammering on my door, and I realised you're even cuter when you're mad."

"Oh really?" I ask archly, trying to conceal my pleased smirk.

"Yep." He confirms. Before I can even blink, my back is pressed against a bus stop. He grazes his mouth over mine once more, then slowly swipes his thumb along my cheekbone. "Your face gets all flushed, and it highlights these freckles right here. It's adorable." His eyes are hooded with desire as he watches me. "Interesting . . . It seems you're having a similar reaction right now."

My breath catches, my heart constricts. My stomach twists with nerves, and longing, and need. Is this really happening? Right now Ric is looking at me like I'm a delicious buffet spread out in front of him, and he can't decide where he wants to start.

That finger makes it way down towards my chest. "You're all pink here too," he observes. I gasp as he pinches a nipple through my shirt-dress, and lowers his mouth to my neck.

I'm pretty sure I'm blushing everywhere at the moment. "We'd best get home," I chide, although every nerve ending on my body is on fire thanks to his touch. If I was any less of a Good Girl I'd probably let him do me in this bus stop. Which probably wouldn't be a good idea, and might result in one of those handcuff nightmares of mine actually coming true.

"Spoilsport," he mutters, but he's smiling as he pulls back, and links our hands together again. Who would have thought Ric Parker would be a hand-holder? There's so much more I want to learn about him; I feel like I've barely skimmed the surface, and a deep-dive is required. I still can't believe he's secretly been into me all this time. He was ridiculously good at hiding it.

As we walk up the stairs to the flat, my heart is thudding against my ribcage like a jackhammer. He closes the door behind us. And then we're just looking at each other, breathing hard. Chemistry fizzing all around.

"Your room or mine?" Ric asks finally, his voice low and controlled. The smile has vanished from his face, his intense dark eyes blazing into mine. Holy shit, he is hot.

"Yours is probably best," I reply, a tremble in my voice. "Just in case Lou comes back."

"Good point." As he leads me towards his bedroom, I realise this is the first time I'm going to see behind this door.

"It's cleaner than I expected," is the first thing I say when we're on the other side. The corner of the room he obviously uses for work is neatly arranged, and there's a surprising amount of books methodically lined up on shelves around the room. His bed is made and, if I lost a set of handcuff keys under this one, I feel they'd be a lot easier to find! (I don't say that out loud, obviously.)

"What can I say?" He's leaning against the wall as I sit down on the bed, that grin suddenly reappearing, and lighting up his chiselled face in the process. "I'm full of surprises."

That's for sure, I think as he crosses the room in what seems like superhero speed to join me on the bed. My handbag topples, the contents scattering themselves over the floor, but neither of us care. "Can I get you out of this dress?" Ric suggests huskily, his fingers already working the first button. Somehow he's already topless, and I'm not quite sure how. He must be some sort of stripper/magician hybrid.

"Please!" I agree breathlessly, my lips against his, as he fumbles his way blindly down the front of the dress, freeing me.

He sits back on his heels and looks me up and down. "So I was right about the matching underwear after all," he growls, eyes intent on my turquoise bra and knickers.

"Yeah, you caught me on a bad day that other time." I find myself finally seeing the funny side of that particular anecdote.

"That was actually a particularly good day for me," he tells me with a wink, and I want to dissolve right into the mattress. Then his mouth fastens to mine again, while he gently shifts my pants to one side. I gasp as he teasingly traces circles near to my melting core with a finger. "Is this okay?" He whispers. He's surprisingly thoughtful, which is somehow even hotter.

"It's more than okay," I murmur, our eyes meeting. Oh god, this time the eye contact is even more intense. I can't help but let out a soft moan as he increases the intensity of his touch, concentration narrowing his eyes as he studies my reactions. "Please don't stop," I add involuntarily.

He chuckles, low and deep. "I don't intend to," he says, before kissing me again. The pressure continues to build within me as he touches me, and I can't hold back as I find an orgasm rushing through me. I cling to him until the wave recedes, my breathing uneven and messy.

No guy has ever made me come that quickly on a first attempt.

"That was so fucking sexy," Ric murmurs, rolling me onto my back, pinning me down with his body. "You are so fucking sexy." He's still wearing his jeans, but I can feel his hardness between my legs as he grinds himself against me. Still sensitive, I find myself twitching, and his resulting laugh is unguarded. His handsome face is completely open and happy in this moment; I'm no longer sure of what day or time it is, but I know this is the point where I fall even further for him.

Because this is no longer just a crush for me. I'm not sure how to define it, but "crush" is nowhere near strong enough anymore.

"Is that your phone vibrating?" Ric asks suddenly, slightly ruining the moment. I shrug.

"I wouldn't worry too much about it," I say, pulling him down for another kiss. But almost as soon as the phone stops vibrating on the floor, it starts up again . . . And then again.

"It might be Lou," Ric suggests. "You probably should at least check. What if she's lost her keys?"

"Then she's a clumsy sod who deserves everything she gets," I grump, as Ric rolls out of my way so I can retrieve my phone.

It's not Lou.

The phone display reads PRICK! - Mobile. Which is what I changed Declan's name to in my contacts after I discovered his betrayal. What now? Huffing out an exasperated sigh, I cancel the call, and switch my phone off, slipping it back in my bag. I don't need the distraction. I want to get back to where me and Ric left off.

But when I turn back to the bed, I can tell immediately that everything has changed. Ric is slipping his shirt back over his head, his expression grim. (Ah... so he hadn't undone the buttons. That's how he got the shirt off so quickly.)

"That was him, wasn't it?" He asks quietly, voice flat. At my nod, he takes a deep breath. "Look Abby . . . I don't think we should do this."

My mouth drops open at this. "Are you kidding me?" I ask. "It's not like I answered his calls there. I've been ignoring his texts for weeks. It should be quite clear I'm over him!" This doesn't feel like a conversation I should be having in just underwear so I slip my dress back on.

Ric shrugs. "I keep trying to tell myself that. And I've tried to get past it, despite my misgivings," he replies after a hesitation. He winces, and I can tell it genuinely pains him to say all of this. "But the first time I met you, you seemed certain you would get back together, despite the circumstances. And you were still crying over him two seconds before you tried to kiss me. That was only a few weeks ago."

I get it. I really do understand where he's coming from. But he's wrong. "Ric, please . . ."

He shakes his head. "I'm sorry Abby, I just can't do it. I'm not going to be your back-up choice, only for you to change your mind the second Declan decides he's tired of pricking around and wants you back." He pushes himself off the bed. "Honestly, I'm not mad at you, or upset. I'm just not going to put myself through that. I think it's better we just call time on whatever this was now, and go back to being platonic."

I'm not going to lie - this fucking hurts. And I can tell it doesn't matter what I say; I can tell he's made up his mind. For whatever reason, he doesn't believe I'm over Declan. And I suppose I can't really blame him.

"So you can just switch your feelings off like that?" I ask. There's a long pause.

"I have to," he says finally. His voice is rough. He rounds the bed towards me and, much to my surprise, gives me a hug. "I hope we can still be friends," he mutters in my ear. "And I genuinely mean that."

The finality of his words crushes my heart.

"Okay. Sure." I back out of the hug. I can't even look at him. I've only had the briefest taster of what it could be like to be with Ric, but this "break-up" actually feels far more painful than the break-up with Declan. "I'm gonna go." I bolt from the room before he can see me cry.

I don't even make it to my own bedroom before the tears start to fall . . .

I'm so sorry! But it seems that Ric has something he might need to work through. And maybe Abby does too . . .

Do you have any thoughts on who is in the right here?