CH 1-10

Summary

Remember when I said earlier I was glad there hadn’t been a spark between us when we shook hands? Well, it must have just been on a temporary loo break or something because energy is now throbbing in the small space between us. Once again, I can’t look away from him. Heat pulses through the hand he’s holding. There’s a look in his eyes too that I’ve never noticed before. And his pupils are rapidly dilating. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Socially awkward Chloe West prefers to live very much within the border of her own tiny comfort zone. The last thing she wants to do is go on a traditional Glasgow Subcrawl, but she’s determined to be a good friend . . . even if it means she’s a stressed mess the whole day. But let’s not forget the following points . . . 🥂 The self-appointed subcrawl coordinator is determined to force fun on them whether they like it or not 🥂 Chloe’s ex is going to turn up at any moment, possibly with his new girlfriend in tow 🥂 And, Liam, the guy who has always rubbed Chloe up the wrong way? Well, *he’s* already there… Can she make it through this nightmare unscathed and complete the subcrawl? And will she find something unexpected in the process?

Chapter 1

Bridge Street Subway Station, Glasgow

Chloe

“Oh for feck’s sake!”

I only loosened my grip for a second.

I don’t even think it qualified as a full second, actually. And my grasp had barely relaxed either.

But due to an unexpected gust of wind from the departing train we just alighted from, my barely used all-day ticket has been yanked brutally from between my fingers. It dances its way tauntingly along the platform beside me, before launching itself into the air again and fluttering down onto the tracks, where it’s now completely useless to me.

My best friend and cousin, Becky, shakes her head at me, clearly trying hard to suppress her laughter.

That ticket was meant to get me an entire day’s worth of travel around the Glasgow Subway. Instead it has only covered my trip from St Enoch’s Station to Bridge Street. And technically it hasn’t even done that as I need the ticket to get through the barriers in order to exit the station.

The ticket machines and desk are all, obviously, on the other side of the ticket barriers.

“I’m basically a prisoner here now, you realise that?” I whine to Becky as she drags me up the stairs behind our group of fellow subcrawlers. “I now live in this station. Will you promise to visit me?” I’m half-joking, but barely. Situations like this are not my forte and I’m feeling extremely anxious and a bit panicky, while trying desperately not to show it.

“I’ll tell you what, Chloe,” Becky grins, stopping at the barriers and looking back at me with a wink. “I’ll bring you a drink back from the pub.” She presents her all-day ticket and strides through to freedom, leaving me abandoned on the other side.

Holy shit, it’s like one of my worst nightmares coming true. I mean, I’ve not actually had a subcrawl-related nightmare before but if I had, being trapped in a subway station alone would definitely be up there. I’m sure there’s a movie about that very subject, and I’m fairly sure it isn’t a romcom.

Not even close.

“Becky?” I find myself wailing. I might be a 28 year old independent woman but I can still feel that telltale prickle somewhere behind my nose hinting that tears are on their way.

“Oh relax, I’m kidding.” She giggles, taking pity on me. My cousin knows me well enough to realise I can only be pushed so far. She pauses at the ticket desk and purchases me a new all-day ticket before passing it across the barrier to me. “I’m hardly going to leave you here; there’s way too much fun to be had outside of the station!”

That, I think warily, as I slam my replacement ticket down to be scanned and escape through the barrier, is exactly what I’m afraid of.

Perhaps I’d be better off trapped in the station after all . . .

Chapter 2

B.S. (Before Subcrawl)

Chloe

In life, you often have to do things you don’t want to do. In

my

particular case, this occasionally includes things which are deemed “fun” by other people. Over the years, I’ve found I have to play along and pretend to like these forms of fun . . . unless I want these other folk to think I’m any weirder than they probably already do.

I remember the time I once told a friend back in our university days that I didn’t like clubbing. She looked at me like I’d told her Donald Trump was my secret crush. (He’s

not

, by the way. Let me clear that up straight away. )

“But . . .

Why

?” Her eyes had narrowed; she was somehow instantly suspicious of me. “It’s great fun.”

I tried to explain that while I enjoyed the dancing and music element of clubbing, as well as the drinking part (obviously), I hated the social interaction necessary. People trying to speak to you on the dance floor when it’s impossibly loud. Trying to find the loo and ending up lost from the rest of your group (this happened to me a lot – my sense of direction has never been great). Being chatted up when you’re not in the mood for it, yet there’s somehow this implied assumption because you’re out that you must be looking for a hook-up. Attempting to get served at the bar, hoping to be noticed in a crowd of more outgoing, far louder people. Failing dismally.

But apparently other people like that. Or they put up with it better than I do.

Don’t get me wrong, I love going out. For dinner, to the pub, occasionally even to the cinema, although more often than not I’m content enough to wait for the DVD to come out. Although I do enjoy a pick ‘n’ mix.

But I hate too many variables. I hate going for dinner at those restaurants that inexplicably (in my view anyway) don’t take bookings. I don’t like arranging to meet folk who just say “oh, we’ll think of where to go when we meet up”. I need a plan, in advance.

Oh, and I

loathe

pubcrawls.

Give me a pub with a seat and I don’t want to move. I’m

comfy

. What if we go to a different pub and have to stand? Why would I give up my nice chair in a place I’ve barely got used to, to have to then change environments and be forced to try to acclimatise again? And then again? And possibly

again

?

I’m socially awkward, and a creature of habit. This does not mesh well with the whole concept of a pubcrawl.

So when Becky announced she wanted us to do a

subcrawl

, my heart completely sank. This was so far out of my comfort zone, it was actually in another galaxy. At the far side of it, even.

For those not familiar with the subcrawl, let me explain briefly. Glasgow has a subway system which spans the city centre, west end and a bit of the south side. There’s fifteen stations, on a circular loop, so you can go clockwise or anticlockwise and sooner or later you’ll end up at the right station. To do the subcrawl, all you need to do is buy an all-day ticket (and try not to let it blow away immediately *facepalm*), choose what direction you’re going in, and then get off at each stop, find the nearest pub and take a drink before getting back on the train. Repeat until you’ve visited all stations. Easy enough, right?

Wrong

.

Without me even bringing my own special set of anxieties into this, there are a couple of slight complications.

Not all of the stations have pubs particularly close by, for a start. Some of the pubs aren’t always open. Some you would be quicker walking to from the previous pub rather than involving the subway at all.

Oh, and on top of that, I’m not a massive fan of the subway, or any crowded public transport in general. And you can really only do it on a Saturday as the subway closes early on a Sunday and I don’t imagine it’s easy to coordinate everyone you want to go getting the same weekday off.

God, I know I sound like such a Debbie Downer right now, and I really wish I didn’t. I’m just . . .

different

. If Becky had suggested we just all hang out in the one pub all day, I’d have been totally up for that. Or I’d have lasted a good few hours before probably sneaking home to recharge.

But a

subcrawl

? It involves a lot of social interaction, and I know it will require me to be “on” if you know what I mean.

The reason we are having it also, in my opinion, is a bit tenuous. Becky is marrying Luke in a fortnight’s time and so she wants the main friends in both of their lives, all of whom will be at the wedding of course, to “get to know each other better beforehand”.

Never mind the fact we all already, at least vaguely, know each other. Let’s also forget the fact there’s already been a hen and stag weekend abroad (Ibiza for the girls and Berlin for the blokes) as well as home hen and stag nights. Becky still feels further bonding is necessary.

I mean, we’ll likely never see most of the others after this wedding but you can’t argue with the bride.

Plus she’s my best friend and I love her to bits. I’d do anything for her. I even agreed to be one of her bridesmaids, which is a massive thing for me. I can do this subcrawl. It’s only a day out of my life, and then it’ll be over with. I never have to do one again.

And at least there will be alcohol . . .

Chapter 3

St Enoch’s Square

Chloe

So here we are. At our first stop.

Although technically we haven’t got on the subway yet. We’ll have our first drink, then head down under St. Enoch’s Square to start our journey southwards.

I believe there’s meant to be around 14 of us in total, but Becky has already explained that not everyone can make the full subcrawl. I nod understandingly at this, resenting the fact I’m probably going to have to last the full day, but also secretly considering faking an illness when we get close to my west end flatshare so I need to abandon ship early. I’m keeping that very close to my chest for now, though; it’s just a little escape plan I’ve hatched in case I’m really struggling.

I’ve carefully considered what alcohol I should drink so I don’t a) die or b) break the seal too early – I really have no strong desire to be searching constantly for the loo in unfamiliar pubs. Gin and tonic seems the safest option.

For now, anyway. I may have to rethink this at some point. I’m already drinking a bit too quickly. The physical act of picking my glass up and sipping gives me something to do with my hands and makes me feel ever-so-slightly less awkward.

Lola, Becky’s maid of honour, leans towards me. I already know what she’s going to ask before she even opens her mouth.

“So, are you seeing anyone?” She questions eagerly.

I

knew

it. I stifle a frustrated sigh.

My love life – or lack thereof – is a bit of a sensitive point for me at the moment . . . And another one of the reasons I’m feeling particularly awkward and uncomfortable about today’s plans.

Because my

ex

is going to be there.

Michael and I broke up eight months ago, after meeting at uni, then spending six years together. We didn’t have a massive fight or anything, no one cheated, and there was no bad blood. We just . . .

grew up

, I guess.

Unfortunately, in different directions. It was pretty mutual, both of us had felt the same and that we would be better off as just friends . . . If we could deal with that, obviously. We’d both acknowledged it might be too hard, but we were both willing to give it a try.

And it’s been

mainly

successful.

I wasn’t looking to jump into another relationship, and neither was Michael. But I have to admit I was lonely without him. And about two months ago I started to wonder if we’d made the right decision. Perhaps we should still be together. Maybe the break-up was actually just a break to prove that we had been a great couple, and the grass really isn’t always greener on the other side. Possibly we could try again?

But I had barely been able to give that the consideration it probably didn’t even deserve when Michael contacted me to let me know he had started seeing someone. And they’ve been together ever since.

It’s

fine

.

I can face him. We’re still friends. That’s all good.

But I have a sinking feeling that the new girlfriend may turn up at some point today. He’s not said as much, but from what I’ve heard, he’s been pretty much inseparable from her since they started dating, and I just can’t see him resisting bringing her along. Especially since he thinks I’m totally cool with him moving on.

Anyway, I’ll deal with it if and when it happens. Just yet another unpredictable part of this whole day that makes me feel incredibly uneasy.

I paste the sincerest smile I can on my face as I turn to face Lola, who is staring at me with her perfectly micro-bladed eyebrows raised curiously. “Ah, no, afraid not. Getting closer to just running away and joining a convent by the day,” I joke lightly.

Actually wouldn’t be the worst idea, I think to myself. I’d have peace and quiet and not have to put myself in social situations like this. But there would also be too much praying and too many masses for an incredibly lapsed Catholic like myself, so it’s definitely not my first choice.

Her face falls, but she rallies. “Maybe we’ll find you someone today!” She says encouragingly, patting my arm. I resist the urge to flinch away; I’m not a big fan of physical contact. Although I suppose I’ll have to get used to it if I’m going to be in crowded pubs and busy trains all day.

“

You never know

!” I grin so hard my cheeks hurt, aware I probably look like a woman possessed. I’m going to have sore face muscles tomorrow as well as a hangover, that’s for sure.

My deranged smile has the desired effect, and Lola backs off. Like,

literally

backs away from me and puts herself on the other side of her boyfriend Colin, as far away from me as possible. For once, I’m actually quite glad that I’m socially awkward and can accidentally scare people away when needed.

“What’s wrong with your face?” Becky asks me in delighted horror as she appears beside me, some sort of pint in her hand. She clinks her glass against mine.

“Oh, just the usual, apparently making your maid of honour uncomfortable,” I quip.

“She really does need to stop asking folk about their love lives,” Becky tuts, rolling her eyes. “She’s

constantly

sticking her foot in it.”

“It’s just her default icebreaker subject, I think,” I shrug. At least she has one. I never know what’s going to come out of my mouth when I’m nervous and/or awkward around folk I don’t really know. Just a few weeks ago I said, to fill an awkward silence with a guy who was trying to chat me up: “do you think pigeons have actually got jobs in their own little world, and us humans are actually interrupting them getting on with them?”

I mean, it wasn’t

completely

out of nowhere; we were in a beer garden, and a pigeon had just flown right at me, narrowly missing my head. So I was probably a bit in shock at the time, too. But the guy looked at me a little like Lola just had and made his excuses pretty damn quickly before rushing off.

Mission accomplished.

“Don’t worry,” Becky nudges me, back in the present. “I’ll stick close by. I know this isn’t easy for you, especially with . . .” She trails off, Michael’s name remaining unsaid between us.

She’s my hero. But I also don’t want her resenting me, feeling like she has to babysit me, just because I’m completely out of my comfort zone. And I was the one who insisted Michael should be invited when Becky had dithered over it. We’d all been friends for years, he’d been to the stags and he was going to the wedding too. It would have seemed a bit cruel to leave him out.

I mean, I’d hoped he might decline the invite, but I guess he didn’t want to seem rude. And

I

couldn’t back out on account of my best friend/bridesmaid status. So we were pretty much at a stalemate there.

At least he can’t make it out until later, so I don’t need to see him straight away… especially if he

does

bring his new lady.

Lola has crept out from behind her boyfriend shield and makes her way into the centre of our group, blowing on a whistle that has seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Most of the pub silences as she does so before taking a quick look at our group and then going on with their day. Subcrawls are easily recognised in Glasgow.

Lola is the centre of attention now, and she is over-the-moon about that. As maid of honour, she has been social director of the hens, and she has happily volunteered to be subcrawl coordinator too. This is one of the many reasons why she is maid of honour and I’m just a regular bridesmaid… I know you guys have just met me, but can you

imagine

me in this role?

Didn’t think so.

Firstly, she passes out goody bags. I briefly examine the contents of mine: there’s a can of pre-mixed cocktail, a lei, a shotglass with the words “I SURVIVED THE SUBCRAWL” emblazoned on it, a packet of Loveheart sweets and something that looks like a bingo card. I don’t want to scrutinise that too closely yet as the thought of what might be on it causes dread to bubble in my stomach.

The leis makes sense. Becky – or Lola, more likely – had decided on a tropical theme for the subcrawl. I’m wearing a printed tea dress with flamingo print, which was the best option I could find in my wardrobe to match said theme – I refused to buy something new for it. I’ve teamed it with a denim jacket, bare legs, and my Doc Marten boots. I actually think I’ve scrubbed up pretty well for a change.

“Everyone . . .” Lola announces dramatically, looping her own lei around her neck and already giggling in anticipation of the obvious joke we all know is coming. “Let’s get

lei’d

.” We all groan as we don our own leis.

I knock back the rest of my G&T and take a deep fortifying breath as we gather our belongings to head for the subway.

I need to get more in the mood for this day . . . And

fast

!

Chapter 4

Bridge Street

Chloe

I’m still trying to calm down after the runaway ticket incident when we emerge into daylight at Bridge Street.

Becky loops her arm through mine as we cross the road and enter the nearest pub. “I know it’s easier said than done, but try to relax,” she says gently to me. “And probably stay away from Lola if possible.” She adds, only half-joking.

I nod determinedly. “Trying my best,” I promise. “On

both

those counts.”

The pub is quite busy, but we’ve managed to secure a corner table. There’s not enough space for everyone to sit, but in typical male fashion, the guys are mostly happy to stand. Luckily, Lola is at the other side of the table, and I have Claire beside me, who I actually do get on well with.

She’s also single, so is entertaining me with stories of some terrible Tinder dates she’s recently been on. I had –

very

half-heartedly, admittedly – thought about trying a dating app recently. But after hearing her terrifying tales, culminating in one where the guy took her to a fancy restaurant, then ran out on the bill, leaving her to pay 200 quid for a two course dinner? I know for a fact I couldn’t do it.

“I’ve decided dating apps aren’t worth it, I’ll just have to keep shagging guys I work with,” Claire concludes. Then she laughs. “I might have to move job though as I’ve ran out of viable candidates in my company.”

That’s the problem, I think to myself. If I don’t want to do dating apps, and I don’t want to get involved with colleagues (in fact, the only guy I work with is due to retire next year so he’s a tad old for me), how the

hell

do you meet someone? As I’ve already proven from my pigeon anecdote (Claire

howled

when I told her that one) I’m no good at being just randomly chatted up in a pub either.

A cheer erupts suddenly from the guys in our group and we both glance up to see why.

“Now,

him

.” Claire jerks her head at the man who just just entered the pub and prompted the cheering. “He is not my type and he’s a bit too young for my taste . . . But you’ve got to admit he’s a good looking bastard.”

I can’t help the grimace that contorts my face at her comment as I watch him greet the other guys.

Because there’s no love lost between me and Liam McCall.

“He’s . . . all right.” I say carefully. Because objectively I can see Liam is handsome. But unfortunately his

personality

ruins it for me. It seems I’m the only one who doesn’t get on with him though. Becky and Lola have already jumped up to delightedly hug him hello.

“Oh yeah, I forgot you two have some sort of love/hate relationship going on,” Claire smiles.

“Ha, it’s mere indifference as far as I’m concerned.” I shrug her comments off with a laugh. But the guy

does

know how to push my buttons. I’ve known Liam for a long time, since Becky and Luke first started seeing each other, as he’s Luke’s best friend, and we’ve never seen eye to eye in that entire period. He generally manages to annoy me so much that he somehow works his way underneath my socially awkward armour; and I end up saying things I wouldn’t say to anyone else. I stick up for myself. I insult him. I snap at him.

Even my own

reaction

to him has always made me uncomfortable and I’m not really sure why.

Liam’s dark eyes meet mine suddenly and I freeze. They narrow slightly and then he tilts his head upwards briefly in a nod of greeting, the tiniest of smirks curling one edge of his mouth.

I twitch my lips back at him in an attempt at a smile before I look away, my cheeks flushing.

It occurs to me, out of nowhere, that this is the first time I’ve been around him while I’ve been single. This unsettles me even more for some reason.

I find myself thinking back to one of the first conversations we ever had. If you can

call

it that – it was pretty heated and probably more of an argument.

We had been talking, as a group, about films. Specifically films from the 80s. I’d mentioned I’d always really enjoyed “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off”. You know it, right? Carefree guy decides to skip school with his best friend and girlfriend, high jinks ensue, etc etc.

“But don’t you think Ferris is a dick?” My about-to-be-nemesis had asked suddenly, leaning forward.

“W-what?” I hadn’t expected that. No one had ever asked me this before.

“He’s just – well, a bit of a sociopath,” Liam shrugged, pushing a lock of black hair back off his forehead. “He treats his pal like shit, thinks the world revolves around him – hell, I even ended up feeling sorry for that teacher who’d been trying to catch him out in the end. He’s a wee prick.”

I’d argued my points, others had chimed in too, but Liam was firm on his opinion that Ferris was not a good person. I could not agree. He was being utterly ridiculous!

I’d went home and watched the film again and . . . I suddenly realised that Liam had a point. Ferris Bueller

was

a wee prick. I could never look at that movie the same way again.

Liam McCall had ruined one of my favourite movies. Therefore he was

also

a wee prick.

Most of our encounters have been of a similar ilk ever since. He’s teased me for my choice of drink in pubs; my love of romance novels when the book I was reading fell out of my bag on one occasion; my cuisine preference when we were having a group dinner out and it was my turn to choose the restaurant. It feels like anything I like he hates, and vice versa. He even once slagged off my choice of favourite Backstreet Boy for fucks sake… I mean, what’s up with

A.J

.?

Don’t even ask me how

that

one came up in conversation . . . But this serves as a prime example of what happens whenever I end up in a “debate” with Liam. I end up leaving the discussion red-faced and frustrated and often confused about how we even got onto that subject in the first place.

He

rattles

me.

I realise I’m watching him again as he chats easily to Becky and Lola. Claire is right, I admit grudgingly to myself, he

is

good looking. But he’s not my type. Or he’s the polar opposite of Michael anyway. Michael is fair-haired and clean-shaven and kind of . . . Preppy, is the best word I can think of to describe him. That’s the type of guy I’ve always preferred. Neat. Tidy. Unproblematic. Probably because my own brain is too twisted and unorganised to go for messy.

Liam is . . . Well, he’s always been a bit

too

much

, for me. His dark eyes are

too

knowing, his hair slightly

too

scruffy, his stubble

too

close to a beard.

He’s completely ignored the theme too, I note disapprovingly as Lola flings a lei around his neck. He says something to Becky, with what looks like an apologetic look on his face and she shakes her head and pats his arm reassuringly.

Most of the guys are sporting Hawaiian type shirts in a nod to the theme – but oh no, Liam McCall is

way

too cool for that. Instead, he’s wearing a pale grey Guns ‘n’ Roses t-shirt with a red and black checked shirt open over it, sleeves rolled up to reveal a selection of the colourful tattoos that trail down his right arm.

I’ve never really been a fan of tattoos.

Or

piercings

, I think, my eyes drifting to the silver barbell cutting through his left eyebrow. I wonder if he’s got anything else pierced. A nipple maybe? Both nipples? His cock? Wouldn’t put

anything

past him.

Then I realise I shouldn’t be thinking about Liam’s cock and I take a deep shaky breath before gulping down the dreggs of my drink.

I need the loo.

On the way back I decide to grab a soft drink from the bar as it looks like most folk are only halfway through their drinks. I’m just passing over my money for my pint of Coke when I realise Liam is leaning against the bar next to me.

“A soft drink already?” He laughs, his pierced eyebrow shooting upwards. “You’re only two pubs in.”

See? His first words to me today and he’s on the wind-up immediately.

“Nice to see you again too, Liam,” I say sarcastically, reluctantly turning to face him. I was determined not to rise to the bait but I can already feel myself up for the challenge. “Did you get confused and think the theme for today was lumberjack? Or failed rock star maybe?”

A shadow passes briefly over his face, but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared. He takes a sip of his drink which I’m going to guess is a JD and Coke. “I actually did have something to wear but I was running late and didn’t have time to go back to mine,” he replies after a moment.

I’m assuming that means he didn’t wake up in his own bed this morning. I’m not really sure about Liam’s private life but he’s never had an other half with him any time I’ve encountered him so I’ve came to the conclusion that he probably is a commitmentphobe who is partial to a one night stand. Judgemental? When it comes to Liam, I most

definitely

am.

“I’m fascinated that you think I look like a failed rock star though,” he continues. “Do you have a back story for my character?” He’s always been rather soft-spoken; husky voiced with an Irish lilt – Becky told me his family moved to Glasgow from Galway when he was eleven or twelve. I like his voice, despite myself – I sometimes think this might what be throws me off sometimes during our many arguments.

“You should probably make up your own back story,’ I reply snarkily. “Mine would likely have you lying in a pool of your own vomit.”

“Ouch.” He winces. Sips at his drink again. ” I fear my own version would probably end the same way though.”

“So you wouldn’t change your backstory to something a tad more . . .

heroic

?” I challenge.

Liam runs a hand over his almost-beard, that dark look drifting across his features once more. “I’m no hero,” he shrugs after a brief pause. Then he waves over at Luke and straightens up. “I’m sure I’ll talk to you later,” he adds, and flashes me a brief cheeky grin before he walks away.

I slump back into the seat next to Claire. As we return to our conversation it occurs to me that of all the people I know in this pub right now, there’s only four I don’t struggle to talk to.

Claire, Becky, Luke and – whether I like it or not –

Liam

.

And

that

, I realise, is quite the revelation to kick off this subcrawl with.

Chapter 5

Bridge Street

Liam

Luke has drawn me into a debate between him and Becky about whether we should skip West Street Subway Station as well as Shields Road.

“The pub closest to West Street is literally along the road from here,” Becky is arguing. “And I’m wearing heels!” She ends on a wail. “I don’t want to get on the subway to go to a further away subway to pretty much double back on myself.”

Luke seems confused, but, having reluctantly completed a few subcrawls in my time, I know what she means.

“Isn’t that the

point

of a subcrawl, though?” he asks blankly.

“It is,” I say firmly, deciding to step in. We don’t need a couple fight on our hands. “But Becky is wearing heels, so I say we skip West Street as well as Shields Road and go straight to Kinning Park.”

“Yes!” Becky consults her list. “We can have three drinks in The Bellrock to make up for it.” She turns on her heel. “I’d better let Lola know, or she’ll think I’m taking over.”

“Thanks for stepping in there,” Luke sighs. “No pun intended.”

“You know never to argue with Becky when heels are involved,” I remind him.

“I don’t know why she even

wore

them; she knew there was going to be walking and standing involved,” he says in exasperation. “All the other girls wore flat shoes.” He indicates the table where they’re all sitting. My eyes drift towards one long bare tanned leg poking out from under the table, ending in a sparkly black Doc Marten boot.

Luke follows my gaze, smirking. “You two looked like you were getting on as well as always before,” he observes. There’s no missing the sarcasm. It’s no secret that Chloe and I are only capable of talking in insult.

I run my hands through my hair, stifling a sigh. I’m aware I got off on the wrong foot with Chloe from our very first meeting. I’ve been told I even ruined her enjoyment of one of her favourite films . . .

Forever

. This is a fairly heinous crime. I know that even on the occasions I’ve tried simply to be friendly, it somehow descends into some sort of argument between the two of us.

I’ve tried to analyse why this is over the years, why I get on fine with the other girls in this group, but not with her. And the only feasible conclusion I’ve ever managed to be able to reach is that . . . I

fancy

her.

And I

really

don’t want that to be true because she

really

doesn’t seem to like me.

“You know she’s single now?” Luke says in a low voice.

I didn’t. Her boyfriend – now ex, I guess – had been on the stags with us but it hadn’t been mentioned, and it’s not like I’d clocked him trying to pull anyone so I’d had no reason to think they were no longer together.

In retrospect, though, the boyfriend’s presence had flummoxed me that first time. I remembered thinking Chloe was really attractive, with her long wavy brown hair, hazel eyes, and shy smile. Feeling awkward that her boyfriend was sitting right there but somehow still wanting to impress her.

But instead, I’d apparently made her hate me, which definitely had never been my intention. She’s always on the defensive whenever I open my mouth now. Sometimes, even before I think about opening my mouth.

“You know what’s weird?” Luke continues softly, and I snap my attention back to him. “Chloe is completely different with you than she is with anyone else.”

“What do you mean?” I’m confused.

“Chloe is pretty shy and extremely socially awkward. If anyone else spoke to her the way you do, she’d probably react in a completely different way. She gets fired up around you for some reason. It’s . . .

Interesting

.”

“Is it?” I try to sound bored, but my own interest has been piqued. My eyes come to rest on Chloe again. She’s fiddling about with her phone, but suddenly she looks up and catches me watching her. She frowns and quickly averts her gaze.

I didn’t really want to come to this subcrawl today. I have enough on my plate at the moment, but Luke is my best friend, I knew I probably needed a distraction from real life and, I guess deep down as well, I

did

want to see Chloe.

Maybe I can use this opportunity to get her to see me as more than just a foe? I’m not saying she’ll ever be interested in me the way I probably am in her, but perhaps we can be

friends

?

Putting my empty glass down on the bar, I decide today’s goal: to make Chloe West like me.

That may be easier said than done.

Chapter 6

Glasgow Subway

Chloe

On the subway between West Street and Kinning Park, I finally work up the nerve to peer at the bingo card. The rules of the card have not been explained, but from a quick glance at it, I can 100 per cent conclude I have no desire to take part in the game.

Granted, there are a couple of easy ones on there, like getting a beermat from one of the pubs or taking a shot. In fact, I already completed that last one in the last pub – we all did as Luke bought us shots of tequila. And acquiring a beer mat wouldn’t be a bother, but then would be an indication of wanting to actually participate.

And I’m

not

going to be doing that.

Because the other tasks include things like ordering a drink in a foreign accent (I can barely order one in my own accent), acquiring a telephone number from a stranger and – worst of all – kissing a stranger.

I feel panic rising in me at the thought of doing any of those things. This is exactly what I was afraid of when I agreed to come on this subcrawl.

“Just because it’s on a list doesn’t mean you need to do it,” a voice speaks suddenly in my ear. A soft, Irish-accented voice. I turn my head and meet Liam’s dark eyes – I hadn’t even realised he’d commandeered the seat beside me.

I also had never noticed how

pretty

his eyes actually are until now. I’ve always been too thrown by the knowing way those eyes look at me, to actually appreciate their beauty. But,

wow

. . . they’re chocolate brown flecked with gold and are framed by ridiculously long black lashes. One good set of eyes.

Well done, Mother Nature.

For the first time, I feel a spark of attraction towards him. And instantly feel uneasy because I can’t be into Liam McCall. He’s not my type. And I hate him.

Don’t

I?

I sigh in response to his comment. “You know what Lola is like. She won’t rest until we all do these tasks; she’s like a dog with a bone.”

“She’s not the boss of us though,” he argues. “Just say no; refuse to do it.”

It’s weird because I’m obviously not going to do anything I feel uncomfortable with, but I’m also scared to say no. I basically feel trapped in a situation of constant dread. It’s really hard to describe unless you’ve ever been in that situation yourself. If you have, trust me, I feel your pain.

“If it’s any consolation, I’m refusing to get involved too.” Liam invades my silence again.

I snort. “Too cool to take part?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t feel comfortable doing things like this either,” he admits quietly. “A subcrawl would never be my first choice for a day out, and I’ve never liked dares. I’m doing this for Luke.”

His confession makes me soften slightly towards him. Maybe we have more in common than I thought.

“I’m only here for Becky,” I tell him. I’m finding that I’m smiling at him despite myself.

The train screeches to a halt. We’ve reached Kinning Park. “Come on, folks!” Lola calls, indicating for us all to follow her off onto the platform, like she’s the teacher and we’re her wayward pupils. I roll my eyes and try to remind myself she means well.

We weave our way through another subcrawl group who are waiting for the train going the other way and head for the stairs. As we reach the top Liam, who is still next to me, pulls me aside. I look over at him, surprised.

“I think we’ve established that neither of us really want to be here,” he says in a rush, like he’s worried I’ll run away before he can talk to me. I nod. “So, look, I’ll try and have your back and protect you from having to get involved in the dares if I can.” He grins. “If you can do the same for me, of course.”

I hesitate briefly and then extend my hand. “Deal,” I agree, as we shake hands. I’m glad to note there’s no spark at his touch; the last thing I need is to catch feels for this guy.

I have to admit it

does

feel nice to have another ally, though, even if it is the person I would have least expected it to be.

We catch up with the others, who thankfully hadn’t noticed we weren’t with them. The fact that there’s no love lost between us is well known amongst the group, so I hate to think what might be said if they saw us actually – gasp – having physical contact!

Lola seems to be missing from the group, but, looking over Becky’s shoulder, I spot her . . . She’s getting a piggyback from a random. Which is one of the dares on the bingo card.

Dammit

. This means she’s taking it seriously.

Liam and I exchange glances. I bite my lip. He gives me a reassuring smile and winks at me. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” he seems to be telling me.

The stranger runs back and deposits Lola on the ground. She’s shaking with laughter as she thanks him, and he leaves. “That was a bumpy ride,” she stage-whispers. “I think he was already steaming.”

He obviously hears. “I am, hen.” His voice drifts back towards us. That causes a collective laugh from all of us as we enter the next pub.

Ah,

Glasgow

.

Never change.

Chapter 7

Kinning Park

Liam

“We’ll be having three rounds in here,” Lola informs us. There’s one big empty table and I’d wager a guess it’s been recently vacated by the subcrawl group we spotted on the platform. I volunteer to get the first round in while the others waste no time in bagging it.

“You on a subcrawl?” As I wait at the bar for the drinks to be poured, a girl materialises next to me. She indicates a group in the corner when I nod. “Us too.”

She’s pretty. “I’m Sandy,” she smiles.

“Liam,” I reply. “How many pubs have you done so far?”

“I’ve lost count,” she admits. “We started really early.” She

does

seem quite drunk. “Now, don’t take this the wrong way, but I have a dare I need to complete.”

What

is

it with subcrawls and dares? Who decided these go hand in hand. Isn’t the subcrawl element dramatic enough? I’m praying it’s not the kiss-a-stranger dare.

“So . . . Can I have your phone number?” She asks, extending a pen and the back of a receipt. “I promise not to use it.” A thoughtful look passes over her face. “Well, unless you want me to?”

I can’t help but laugh at her balls as I scribble my number down. “You can if you want but you should know I never answer my phone and I always forget to reply to text messages.”

Sandy is cute but I’m not really interested. I don’t feel a spark and from experience I tend to find if that’s not there from the get-go that it’s difficult to create one.

“Sorry to interrupt.” There’s icy sarcasm edging Chloe’s voice as she appears on my other side. “Becky sent me up to help with the drinks.” She grabs a few glasses and stalks back to the others.

“Oh,” Sandy says, glancing at me. “I think I might have ruffled some feathers there.”

“You haven’t,” I assure her. “Chloe is just a . . .” What

is

she really? I can’t really call her a friend as such, but she’s more than just an acquaintance. A

frenemy

?

“But you’d

like

her to be more, right?” Sandy doesn’t even wait for me to define our relationship. She doesn’t

need

to, she’s immediately confirmed from witnessing one interaction what I’ve suspected all along . . . That I

do

have a thing for Chloe. I can’t help but groan.

She laughs, folding up my number and slipping it in her pocket. “Maybe I’ll text you later and you can give me a progress update,” she throws back over her shoulder as she returns to her group. “Nice meeting you, Liam!”

“Looks like you pulled,” Luke winks as I sit down in the only empty chair, which is next to Chloe. “Did you get her digits?”

“No, but she got mine.” I don’t elaborate on the fact it was a dare – for two reasons. The first is that I don’t want to remind Lola of the dares any more than I have to. And the second? I’m wanting to see if it makes Chloe jealous.

She already seemed out of sorts when she stormed up to the bar. Especially when I thought we’d effectively called a truce back on the subway. Maybe realising that other women are interested in me might make her realise I have more to offer, that I’m not just the guy who ruined her favourite film with his inane blabbering.

I can almost feel the irritation radiating off her right now though. She’s bristling with annoyance.

We do a group “cheers”, clinking our glasses together. “Let’s play a game,” Lola then shouts. Everyone groans.

“No it’ll be fun!” She insists. “I’m thinking we play Truth or Dare, without the dare bit. And everyone has to answer each question.”

“So not like Truth or Dare at all then really,” Chloe says dryly. Lola frowns and Chloe looks surprised at herself, like she didn’t mean to say that out loud.

Becky and Chloe exchange a brief glance. I see Becky raise her eyebrows as if in question and, out of the corner of my eye I can see Chloe nod. Becky turns to Lola. “Let’s give it a go,” she says with enthusiasm that I reckon she’s faking.

Lola claps her hands together in delight. “Okay, I’ll go first,” she cries. “What age were you all when you lost your virginity?” Her eyes fall on me. “Liam?” She prompts.

I lower my gaze. “I’m still a virgin.” I mutter. There’s a brief stunned silence around the table. Then Luke snorts, and they realise I’m kidding and start to laugh. “I was 18,” I add.

We all look expectantly at Chloe. “21,” she whispers, her face reddening.

“Oh that’s right, you’ve only ever been with Michael!” Lola exclaims before her hand flies to her mouth. “Sorry,” she winces.

Chloe shakes her head. “It’s okay, you can mention him. He’s going to be here later anyway so I’ll have to get used to it.”

I find myself wondering why they broke up. Michael has always seemed a bit boring to me. Despite being quiet, Chloe has this element of vibrancy about her which I never saw reflected in her ex. He was a nice enough guy, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve always thought she could do better.

I’m not saying I’m better but . . . Maybe I

am

?

I shake my head to rid myself of the thought. I might fancy Chloe but it’s clear I’m just an irritant to her.

Chapter 8

Kinning Park

Chloe

Just when I’d actually started to warm to Liam, he had to go and ruin it by flirting with the first pretty girl he saw.

I get it: he’s a free agent; he can do as he pleases. I have no hold over him. Hell, I don’t even

like

him.

But it didn’t stop me from being annoyed.

How can we be “in this together” if he’s just going to be chatting up other ladies? How can he watch out for me if he’s distracted? Is that selfish of me? Well, maybe! But we did agree to have each other’s backs . . . Apparently, that just meant he was going to turn

his

back on me.

Deep down, I know I’m being unfair. But I can’t help myself. Old habits die hard, and Liam McCall has never really given me any reason to believe my trust is safe in his hands.

Still, he did leave the girl and come back to the table, even if he has given her his number. And now I’m really aware of his presence, mere inches away from me, and his scent, so fresh and slightly citrusy. And it’s making me feel a bit . . .

Giddy

. I bite my lip.

At this stage, I’m really not sure if I’m more annoyed at Liam . . . Or

myself

.

This bloody bastardisation of “Truth or Dare” isn’t helping with my mood either. Why do we even have to play games? Can’t we just drink and chat like normal human beings? Let me rephrase that, why can’t everyone else just drink and chat like normal human beings? Meanwhile, I can just continue to make things awkward in my very own special way.

“Chloe?” Becky’s voice invades my intrusive thoughts, and I glance up, realising everyone is staring at me. Oh,

great

. “It’s your turn to answer this one.”

Oops. “Sorry, I spaced out there,” I wince. “What was the question?”

“Have you ever cheated on anyone?” Lola repeats patiently.

“No,” I say honestly. Well, unless you count Martin Wilson when I was eight, but it wasn’t my fault he thought we were in a relationship purely because I’d shared my sandwich with him. I was just being nice, but he saw it differently and was very offended when I shared my lunch with another boy the next day. There was a very uncomfortable confrontation that resulted in all three of us in tears and a teacher being told… awkward!

Wow, now I’m thinking about it, it seems i had far more confidence with boys 20 years ago. Maybe I should start leading with food?

All eyes turn to Liam. He shakes his head decisively. “I’ve never cheated in my life,” he states, looking around the table as if defying anyone to state differently.

“It’s a lot easier not to cheat when you don’t go out with anyone for more than a few weeks,” one of the other guys points out with a snort.

Liam glares at him. “At least I can get them to go out with me in the first place, Alex,” he bites out through gritted teeth.

There’s definitely a bit of tension between the two men. I’ve never noticed this before. Probably cos I’m always too busy worrying about my own reactions. I’ve got a nice little buzz now emanating because of the alcohol though and because the pub isn’t too busy yet, and because I have a seat, I’m actually feeling rather relaxed about my own situation. It does mean my other senses are seemingly heightened, though, and I feel myself tense as they continue to gripe at each other.

“Is it time for another round of drinks?” I ask brightly, forcing myself to raise my voice as I realise this might be something I should be attempting to help Liam with. I pick up the kitty money from the middle of the table. “Liam, can you come and help me?” He hesitates a moment as he continues to glare at Alex, so I grab his elbow and yank hard on it. “Please?” I snap. He lets me pull him to his feet. Becky mouths a grateful thanks at me as I lead him away.

“What the hell was

that

all about?” I ask him as we stand at the bar. Everyone’s drink order has been scrawled on a list, so I push that over to the barman rather than read it all out. Far better that way for everyone, trust me!

“Long story,” Liam sighs. He pulls himself up onto a bar stool while we wait, and after a brief pause, I do the same.

“We have time.” I nod towards the barman, who is clearly in no hurry to fulfil our drinks order. He’s chatting to another member of staff, my list dangling limply from his fingers. I’m not bothered by his sloth-like motivation – it delays going back to the table and having to,

ugh

, group participate again. I’d rather avoid that, even if it means one on one with Liam instead.

Also, being a confidant makes me feel a bit more useful. Like there’s actually a purpose to my presence here.

He runs a hand through his hair distractedly, leaving it even messier than it previously was. Has he even

heard

of styling products? Yet, strangely, the lack of obvious grooming works for him in a way that it doesn’t for a lot of other guys. I blink away that traitorous thought as soon as it pops into my head.

“Alex has always had a problem with me,” he mutters eventually, draining the dreggs of his previous drink and putting it down on the bar with slightly more force than needed. “More recently, it’s been because he liked a girl who preferred me.”

“Of course,” I say dryly. Liam has never seemed short of self-confidence.

“Hey, I’ve not overstepped any lines here, I’m not interested in the girl. I can’t exactly help if she finds me irresistible and thinks Alex is a selfish prick.” I snort, but he’s suddenly grinning. “Sorry, the whole fucking situation is just ridiculous,” he adds. “He’s acting like I’ve broken some sort of ‘bro code’ but I did absolutely nothing to make her think I was interested.” He looks down into his empty glass and tuts.

“Why

weren’t

you interested?” I ask curiously.

His head shoots back up at this, his eyes laser-sharp as they bore into mine. “Do you fancy every single guy you meet?” He asks pointedly. “Or can you accept the fact we all have different tastes?”

I nod, suitably chastised. I really do need to stop thinking he’s some sort of manwhore. “Fair enough. But there’s more to it than just this, right? You said he’s always had a problem with you.”

Another sigh. “I used to go out with his sister.”

And

there

it is.

“Ah. So you broke her heart? I see.”

The barman has finally taken action and glasses of liquid are starting to appear on the bar in front of us.

“Actually,” Liam says, staring straight ahead and swallowing hard. “She broke mine.”

Oh

.

None of this really makes any sense but he’s already sliding off the barstool and picking up drinks. “I’ll take these ones to the table and be back in a sec for the others,” he says, the subject clearly over.

I’m handing over the money for the round when I’m struck by a thought. I dig around in my pocket for some of my own money. “Can I grab two shots of tequila as well?” I ask. “I’ll pay separately for those.”

When Liam returns a minute later he leans against the bar and smiles tentatively at me. “Listen, I do appreciate you getting me out of that situation with Alex there,” he says quietly. “It probably would have turned nastier if you hadn’t.”

“No worries,” I reply. I pass him over one of the shots the barman just handed me. “Here.”

“What’s this for?” he asks, confused.

“Figured we should seal our little deal with a shot.” I raise my shot glass in his direction. “To having each other’s backs!”

There. It’s official. Me and Liam are partners in crime now.

How very terrifying.

Chapter 9

Cessnock

Liam

The next hour or so passes relatively uneventfully. Alex pipes down a bit, Lola calls a halt to any games for now, and no dares have been mentioned. We’ve finished the three prescribed rounds in the pub at Kinning Park and made it to the next stop at Cessnock.

Chloe and I have also managed to coexist peacefully so far, which is a record for us. Just need to remind myself not to mention Ferris Bueller, whatever I do.

I’m actually starting to think that Lola has forgotten about the dares but as soon as we have drinks in front of us in the next pub, she stands up and blows her blasted whistle to get our attention.

“Okay, everyone, very important task for you all!” She announces self-importantly. “While we are in this pub, you can only pick up your drink with your left hand. If you forget, and we notice, you will have to do one of the dares from the bingo card . . . And

we

will choose which one.”

That sounds very ominous.

I immediately focus all my attention on my glass, using my left hand to nudge it to the left of me. I am

not

doing any bloody dares. Call me a killjoy all you want, but I’m point blank refusing.

That being said, I’m not risking myself being put in that position, so I’ll be doing my best to obey instructions for now.

Chloe is sitting beside me again, and I shoot her a glance. She meets my gaze, smirks, lifts up her right hand deliberately as if to show me . . . Then sits on it. I stifle a laugh.

That’s my girl.

Well, she’s not

my

girl, but you know what I mean. I’m quietly impressed. I’m tempted to do the same thing myself.

She picks up her gin and tonic and takes a sip. I do the same with my drink – I decided Jack Daniels and Coke would be my choice of drink today, remembering from my experience of previous subcrawls that pints at every pub get a bit much after a while. I’m relieved it’s a shorter drink, too, as I can finish it quicker and get this ridiculous left-handed task out of the way.

“This is shit,” Chloe says to me in a low voice after a couple of minutes. “I just want to enjoy my drink and not worry about what fucking hand I’m holding the glass with.” She winces. “And my right hand is starting to go numb.” I can’t help but laugh at this.

“Have you had to do this before?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “No, thank god! I just don’t trust myself to not use the wrong hand unless I take it completely out of the equation.”

Alex settles himself opposite us then and I feel myself tense up immediately. I had really hoped he wasn’t going to show up today. But not only has he shown up, it feels like he’s going out of his way to try to wind

me

up.

I hadn’t been around him since the stag night which was when we’d ran into Kirsty, the girl I’d mentioned to Chloe earlier. Alex knew Kirsty from uni, and clearly was wanting to get into her knickers . . . But Kirsty for some reason had decided that she liked me. God knows why, it wasn’t like I was flirting with her, and I hadn’t even made an effort with my appearance as I was running late as usual.

But I guess the heart or whatever organ running the show on any given day wants what it wants, and I had no control over the fact she wanted me and not Alex.

However, he seems to have taken it very personally. I do definitely suspect that it’s more to do with my previous relationship with his sister but he’s tried to make me out as the villain in that more times than I can remember since we broke up years ago.

“So, Chloe,” he says now, smiling at her. He’s turning up the charm – although it’s more like

smarm

– and I immediately see right through him like he’s taken some sort of transparency potion. “How are you enjoying the subcrawl?”

Chloe takes another sip of her drink. “It’s alright,” she says softly. She looks unenthusiastic; whether that’s about the subcrawl itself, Alex trying to chat her up, or both those factors, is unclear. I hope at least a

bit

of the lack of enthusiasm is aimed at Alex though.

I think back to any group activities or events where Alex and Chloe have both been present, and I can’t even remember Alex ever even interacting with her before. Obviously the ex would always have been there but I’m pretty sure Alex’s sudden interest is less to do with the fact Chloe is single now and more to do with the idea that he suspects I like her.

She’s clearly feeling uncomfortable though as within a few minutes of his attention she’s excusing herself to go to the bathroom. Actually, she blurts out “sorry, need to go before I piss myself,” before blushing at her own words and rushing away. Alex smirks at me before standing up and walking to the other end of the table, proving once and for all he was using Chloe to get to me.

“You okay?” I ask her when she sits back down.

She frowns. “I’m not really comfortable with being flirted with,” she says, her cheeks reddening again. “I

think

that’s what he was doing anyway. I obviously don’t have much experience of it.” She rolls her eyes.

“He was,” I confirm. Although I refuse to believe she’s rarely flirted with. She’s

way

too hot.

“It’s weird though,” she muses. “He’s never been interested before. So after your little altercation earlier, it feels like he was actually trying to noise

you

up.” Her nose wrinkles. “I just can’t figure out why he would think flirting with

me

would make a difference though.”

I stiffen. Looking away from her, almost feeling like I’m interrupting a conversation she’s having with herself, voicing her thoughts out loud. Worried about how close she’s veering towards the truth.

Her eyes snap up sharply all of a sudden and look at me, as if she’s seeing me for the first time. There’s confusion in the depths of her hazel gaze which slowly, unwillingly, seems to morph into understanding. “

Oh

,” she whispers.

Shit

.

“Yeah, I’m not sure either,” I say quickly, but I know it’s too late. I know I’ve been rumbled.

She knows I like her.

I take a cleansing gulp of the remainder of my drink, as does she. I don’t think either of us know what to say next. It’s awkward. So bloody awkward.

But it’s about to get

so

much worse.

“Hey guys,” Alex announces from his new chair, addressing the whole group but grinning evilly at me. “Looks like we’ve found our first two right handed losers.”

Chloe and I look at our drinks then at each other in horror. In the chaos and confusion of the last minute or two, we both picked up our drinks in our right hands. We’re both going to have to do a dare.

“Fuck,” Chloe whispers under her breath.

Fuck indeed.

Chapter 10

Cessnock

Chloe

This is

all

Liam McCall’s fault.

I had everything under control. I was going to complete the task with no issues, was totally on course to do it, then that bloody prick Alex flummoxed me with his fake flirting . . . And then Liam threw me off balance further when I realised precisely

why

the fake flirting was happening.

For some reason, whether true or not, Alex thinks Liam fancies me.

And judging by Liam’s reaction, it seems it is, in fact, accurate.

Stupid fucking Liam and his rubbish pretty eyes with his apparently ridiculous unrequited crush on me has just landed us both with a one way ticket to Dare Central. I honestly feel like I could puke right now.

“

Woohoo

!!!!” Lola breaks what was maybe a tense silence of about 2 seconds but it felt like far longer to me. I’m starting to feel hot and sweaty. “Are you two ready for a dare?”

“No,” both myself and Liam say at the same time. Lola laughs delightedly. In her world,

Lola-land

, she can’t understand why people wouldn’t embrace challenges like this with the gusto she does. Lola however does not seem to have a self conscious bone in her body. She’s not just the heroine in her own story, she’s the main character in everyone

else’s

too.

She leaps to her feet and skips around to me, diving into my “goody” bag and retrieving my bingo card before I can even stop her. “Let’s see,” she murmurs, eyes tracing the different dares. I can practically see the cogs spinning in her brain. “I think that Chloe should . . .

Kiss a

stranger

.”

That’s it. I think I’m about to die. Can you expire from being terrified at the very idea of carrying out a dare? I might be the first victim of such a death. I take no pleasure in that.

“Lola . . .” Becky starts, looking worried. But Lola doesn’t let her continue.

“Come

on

Chloe, it’s about time you got back on the horse, this would be a great start.”

Not a great figure of speech to use – Lola however is unlikely to know that I

actually

fell off a horse when I was younger. And I most certainly did

not

climb back on it. The memory sparked by her words does not dilute my panic.

“There’s not exactly a lot of eligible strangers in here for Chloe to kiss,” Claire points out; I think she senses my panic too. “Maybe she should wait until another pub for someone a bit less . . . Old, drunk and ugly?” She flashes me a smile, like she’s found me my solution.

It’s full of good intentions but the dread of having to get the dare done at all would just hang over me.

I want to say no, but I can’t find the words. I’m terrified of being the party pooper, especially as I failed this particular challenge due to my own stupidity.

Becky looks around the pub. “There’s not one stranger here I’ll allow Chloe to kiss,” she announces. Becky to the rescue.

I might –

might

– just get away with this.

“Well, how about she kisses

Liam

?” Oh look, my new favourite person Alex has piped up again. “I know he’s not a stranger, but I’m sure we can all agree he’s

strange

.”

He smiles again at both of us. The smile is pure unadulterated evil. Alex would be the villain in everyone else’s show. Not the one you feel sorry for; the one you would cheer for joy when he was eventually dropped from a great height and squished.

That’s

how strongly I feel about Alex right now.

Lola brightens further. “That could work! Kill two birds with one stone and all that.”

I wait for Liam to object. He was very adamant he wouldn’t be taking part in any of the dares, so I doubt he’ll agree to this.

Even though he fancies you

, a little voice in my brain says. I shush the words as I haven’t had time to come to terms with that particular realisation yet.

“Okay.”

I was not expecting Liam to say that. My eyes must be shooting laser beams of rage at him right now. So much for protecting each other.

Before anyone can say anything else, he puts up a hand in warning. “We’ll do it. On one condition.”

“What?” Lola asks eagerly.

“If Chloe and I kiss right now, neither of us needs to do any more dares,” he says firmly. Lola is clearly about to protest, but he shakes his head. “No. We do this, and we’re allowed to chuck our bingo cards away.”

Okay, this would be kind of genius if it wasn’t for the fact that

I

still need to kiss him. But . . . A minute of discomfort in order to avoid the possibility of any dares for the rest of the day? I

suppose

I can manage that.

Liam hasn’t looked in my direction once since this particular little drama started unfolding. “So what do you say?” He prompts Lola. “Deal?”

“Sounds like a good compromise to me.” Becky is actually smiling as she interjects. Traitor.

Lola nods, albeit reluctantly. “Alright,” she replies. “

But

,” she adds. “In order to make it worth our while, you need to kiss for at least a minute. You’re not getting away with a quick peck, not on

my

watch.”

Luckily, I had assumed that would be the case. Lola, chaos creator, would never settle for anything less than a full-on snog. She’s already finding the timer on her phone. I’m actually surprised she’s not manually counting it down.

My mouth suddenly feels ridiculously dry as I consider the practicalities of the actual kiss now. I haven’t kissed anyone since Michael and hadn’t locked lips with many folk before him. I’m hopelessly out of practice at kissing.

I

have

watched a lot of romcoms recently, though, so hopefully that might stand me in good stead?

“I feel like you should probably both stand up for this,” our puppet-master Lola decides, pulling me to my feet and indicating towards Liam that he should do the same. He does so, reluctantly.

We’re finally looking at each other again. He’s tall, but so am I, so I don’t have to tilt my face up much to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he mouths at me, his face serious. My gaze drifts towards his lips, noting that they’re full and soft looking. Actually very appealing. I just really hope he’s not one of those slobbery kissers.

“And . . . Go!” Lola shouts as if she’s starting a race at the Olympic Games.

Our eyes clash again briefly, a look passing between us that says, “Let’s just get this over with”. I’m not sure whether he leans in first or I do but in the space of a second or two, our lips meet and my hand slides around to the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

My intention was to try and keep the kiss as chaste as possible, but as soon as our mouths touch, it’s like something crumbles within me.

Lola and Alex want a show

, I think to myself,

let’s give them one

. I raise myself higher so I’m on my toes and bring my other hand up to his scruffy cheek, cupping it firmly as I slide my tongue into his mouth.

He moans lightly as I do this, and suddenly, I find myself forgetting what my original goal was.

Because this is too good

. His lips are as soft as I thought; his tongue is effortlessly tangling with mine; his hands are burning against my hips. This is actually really, really . . .

“Hoy, lovebirds!” Lola hollers, breaking the spell, ruining the kiss. “The timer went off ten seconds ago.”

We pull apart, and I drop back down onto my chair. I feel . . .

stunned

. I wasn’t expecting that at all. Wasn’t expecting to feel

anything

like that. I glance quickly around the table, not meeting anyone’s eyes. Everyone, bar Alex, of course, is grinning.

“So we can consider our dare debt paid up, I assume?” Liam asks Lola. I’m deliberately not looking at him, but I just know he’ll have that pierced eyebrow raised in a challenge.

“Oh yes,” she sighs. “That was everything we could ever have dreamed of.” The girl is lit up like a Christmas tree, love hearts bursting out of her big blue eyes.

You’d think it was

her

who’d been on the receiving end of that kiss.

As things start to settle back down, I finally chance a glance at my kissing partner. Liam looks as confused as I feel right now. He’s running a hand through his hair again and chewing on his lower lip (stop looking at his lips, Chloe!). Suddenly, he’s looking right at me, and I feel my breath catch in my throat. I’m inexplicably nervous.

“Are you okay?” he says quietly, finally, after a moment of weirdly intense eye contact that I find I can’t look away from. “I’m really sorry that I pretty much took over and agreed to do the dare without asking you if it was okay . . . It just seemed the best way to get out of doing any others.”

“That’s alright,” I manage, my voice coming out slightly weak. “It . . . It

worked

, so that’s the important thing. It’s taken the pressure off the day a bit now, so I guess I can only thank you for that.”

He smiles, and I’m sure I can see at least one dimple forming under all that stubble. “Glad I could do my bit.” His voice is even softer than usual. He pushes his chair back and stands again. “Let me get you a celebratory drink. Gin and tonic, right?”

“Yeah. Thanks,” I reply faintly.

At least I might be able to enjoy this one –

especially as I can use whatever bloody hand I want to drink it with.