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“What? No. It’s your birthday!”
“And I’ve had a great time.” Well, bits of it have been good. “I’m getting tired now, though.”
She glances at Niamh, then reaches for her jacket. “I’ll leave with you. Keep you company on the walk.”
“You will not. You’ll stay, and you’ll enjoy your night, and tomorrow you’ll tell me everything. That’s an order from your boss.”
Emmy wavers, one hand still on her jacket. “You sure?”
“Of course. I’ll be fine. It’s a fifteen-minute walk, and there’ll still be plenty of people about. We’ll speak tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay. But stick to the main road, and text me when you get home.”
“I will. Night.”
I say goodnight to Niamh too, give Liam and Imran an embarrassed nod, then slip out of the booth and make for the stairs. I do not look at Ryan.
The moment I’m outside, the cool air bites pleasantly at my hot cheeks. It’s properly dark now, the fairy lights twinkling overhead. The lane is quieter than it was earlier, but not empty. There are folk milling about, merry, in no hurry to be anywhere. I’m not used to walking home on my own at this time of night, but I’m too annoyed to feel unsettled.
Annoyed at Chloe and her tiny black dress. Annoyed at Liam and his silent toast. And, of course, annoyed at Ryan for walking off, just like that, when some prettier woman showed up.
Mostly, though, I’m annoyed at myself, because I can’t stop wondering what it would have been like if Ryan had kissed me. Would I have felt that fine little scar by his top lip? Would he have kissed me with all the heat and certainty I’d expect from an alpha male like him?
I shiver. It has nothing to do with the cold.
As I leave Ashton Lane and make my way onto Byres Road, I give myself a stern talking-to. Ryan Sloan is not the sort of man for someone like me. Not that I date enough to have a type, but if I did, it wouldn’t be a tattooed professional fighter with women queuing up to meet him. You couldn’t design a man more wrong for me if you tried.
Ugh, why am I even thinking about this? He’s no doubt still up on that mezzanine with Chloe and her pals, our wee moment together entirely forgotten. Probably hasn’t even noticed I’ve left.
You know what? It’s just as well Chloe turned up when she did. If I had kissed him, I’d have woken up tomorrow hating myself. Really, I should be thanking her.
“Briony!”
I turn and, holy granola, it’s him. Ryan, walking towards me, his long strides eating up the pavement. No jacket, despite the cool evening. Just that fitted black T-shirt, stretched across his broad chest and clinging to the hard lines of his stomach. Weather is presumably another thing he’s too tough for.
The entire case I’ve just built against him collapses on the spot. I’m glad to see him.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Walking you home.”
“Don’t be silly. You don’t need to end your night just to see me home.”
“I was thinking of calling it anyway.” He falls into step beside me, hands in his pockets.
“Oh. Well. Thanks.”
He shrugs. “Need to be up sharp.”
Ah, right. Training. Nothing to do with me.
We cross at the traffic lights and walk along Highburgh Road.
“Why’d you sneak away without saying goodbye?” Ryan asks.
“I didn’t sneak away. I said goodbye—to Emmy and Niamh.”
“And me? Do I no get a goodbye?”
