I woke up before my alarm the following morning to the sound of Fionn groaning from the couch. I jumped up out of bed and filled a glass with water before digging around the drawers for some aspirin.

"Rise and shine!" I sing-songed, falling back on the way he'd woken me on one of the early days of my visit. I handed him the glass and the meds.

Sitting up, he peeked one eye open at me and groaned.

"What am I doing here?" he asked groggily.

"You mean you don't remember?" I clutched a hand to my chest in mock horror. "My, Fionn, I'm surprised. Mr. Responsible."

Fionn let out a low growl of annoyance. He raised his eyebrows and immediately winced. Apparently, the headache was too much to engage his eyebrows.

"Em—Emilie, did I do anything, er, regrettable last night?" Guilt laced his voice.

My expression softened and I let go of my sarcasm. It wasn't right to be mean to him. "No, but I did meet some of your friends. Quite an eclectic bunch."

"Oy." He gulped down the water. "Sorry for that. My friends...they can be interesting at times."

"Don't worry about it." I stood up from where I was sitting next to him. "I'm going to make a run to get some breakfast. Do you want anything?"

He hugged a pillow to his chest and for a moment, I felt sorry for taunting him given his hangover.

"Just some tea. Ginger, if they have it," he replied.

I slung my purse over my shoulder. "I'll be back in a few. Try not to throw up on the couch!"

I heard him chuckle as I walked down the spiral staircase and over to the diner down the street.

"Maidin mhaith! Good morning, Martha," I greeted the woman behind the counter.

"Maidin mhaith, Emilie." She smiled at me. "You're learning Gaelic quite well. What can I get for you?"

"Two avo toasts with poached eggs, a ginger tea, and a chai latte. To go, please." I hopped up onto a chair by the counter to wait.

"You and Fionn had a rough night?"

I shook my head. "What makes you say that?"

Martha grinned. "Avo toast and ginger tea is what I make for Fionn whenever he has a hangover."

Ah. That made sense.

"We weren't together last night," I said. "Fionn was drunk so I let him sleep it off in the flat. But it wasn't...we didn't plan it."

This was way more than Martha probably cared to learn, but she nodded along nonetheless.

"Understandable." She ripped the piece of paper from the notepad and handed it over to the kitchen. "I'll have the food out for you in a few."

Martha went to help a few more customers while I waited for my breakfast order. I glanced around the diner; there was a steady stream of customers coming in and out. It was different from the shops we had in the city. The cozy vibe was still there, but here in Scotland, that vibe extended much beyond the four walls of the diner.

In fact, the whole town radiated a cozy vibe that I could see myself enjoying much beyond just a vacation.

I scrolled through the emails on my phone, hoping to find an email that would determine my fate for the creative writing program. Would I get to stay and live out my dream or return home to a future of uncertainty?

Six months after applying, I was still waiting to hear. I hoped I would know soon, though. The thought of leaving Scotland behind forever, now that I'd fallen in love with it beyond the pages, was something I didn't want to think about.

That is the only reason, I told myself when Martha handed me the food a few minutes later. The beauty of Scotland is the only reason I would stay.

But even as I thought it to myself, I knew it was a lie.

There was another reason, one I wasn't ready to let myself admit.

When I returned, Fionn's voice was the first thing I heard: "I was beginning to think you abandoned me."

I chuckled and shook my head as I handed him his food. "You really think that low of me? Eat."

"No, I—" he paused when he saw I was teasing. "Um, thanks. For breakfast and for last night. I don't normally get that carried away."

I unpacked my food and took a sip of my latte, letting the warm liquid coat my throat with relief. "You're welcome. Honestly, I'm glad I was there. Asher shouldn't have had to deal with you all by himself."

Fionn's face reddened and his jaw clenched. "You met Asher?"

I raised my eyebrows. Was that jealousy I detected in his voice?

"Yeah, how else do you think I got you upstairs? Do you really think I could've carried you by myself?"

"Hmm." Fionn didn't say anything else after that, leaving us to eat in silence.

When we were finished, Fionn offered to help clear up the dishes before settling back in on the couch.

"Thank you," Fionn said again. "I really, um, appreciate the help."

I leaned over him on the couch; he swallowed and his gaze dipped from my eyes to my lips.

My heart thumped loudly against my chest. We were way too close for comfort. I pressed my lips against his ear. "Don't think this changes anything between us."

I started to walk away but the creak of the floorboards told me Fionn was following behind.

"Emilie." His voice softened.

I resisted the urge to turn around and sighed. "Fionn, don't. You're hungover. This isn't the time."

"Aye. Look, after everything I think you deserve a day off. I'll handle the shop today. It's...the least I can do. Honestly," he said.

I turned around, looking him squarely in the eye. "Fine. See you later."

"Wait, Em." He grabbed my hand. For just a moment, I thought something was going to happen. I yearned for him to reach up and brush my hair away from my face, to feel his touch against my skin. Then he said, "Where are my keys?"

I smirked. "You didn't have them on you last night. They're either still at the pub or locked in your apartment."

If it was the former, the only humiliation he'd face was going back to the bar during daylight hours. If it was the latter, I knew he'd have to call his father to bail him out. And that was about the best punishment I could think for him at the moment.

Fionn groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "I guess I deserve that."

I walked away without another word.

***

The day went by much too quickly, but I was glad to have time to soak up the warm Scottish sun as I walked up and down a street market. Vendors greeted customers in Gaelic and English, making conversation and encouraging newcomers to try samples before buying.

By the time I arrived back, I had bought gifts for my friends and several kinds of meat and produce for a meal I hoped to cook for myself that evening. The sun started to lower in the sky, giving off an orange glow that covered the entire town as it spread for miles and miles.

I held the door open for two customers who were on their way out of the shop before closing it behind me and changing the sign to 'closed'.

"How was your day out?" Fionn asked.

I shoved past him to go put my perishable purchases in the fridge upstairs. The outing would've been more enjoyable with someone to show me around, like Catriona did. Even more, I wanted it to be Fionn, but after the stunt he pulled I didn't trust him.

The door to the apartment barged open, and I whipped around to face Fionn.

"We need to talk," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"This is my room," I reminded him, focusing my attention on the refrigerator. "You can't just come and go as you please."

"I don't care, Emilie. We need to talk." Fionn blocked my path and closed the fridge door. "What happened between us—"

"I'm sorry, I thought you wanted to keep things strictly professional." My words were fire, meant to hurt him, yet a ping of guilt twisted my heart. I didn't want to hurt him.

"Yeah, like the way you kept it professional this morning!" he threw back.

I scoffed. "Oh you've got to be kidding me! I'm the only reason you didn't end up wandering the streets alone and drunk last night, you idiot!"

"Right, you and Asher." This time I was certain that his voice reeked of jealousy.

"Asher is your friend, first of all. Second of all, you're the one who decided to get wasted. Next time, I'll just let you wander around alone since it's 'not professional' to help out a friend." I airquoted the words for emphasis.

"You know what?!" Fionn stepped toward me, fury sparking in his eyes.

"What?" I placed my hands on my hips, taunting him, daring him to step even closer.

"Your nostrils flare when you try to avoid confrontation, you know that?" He stepped closer.

Not meaning to prove my point, my nostrils flared at him. "What do you want, Fionn? Last time I checked, this was still my temporary housing and you're just the landlord. So, why are you up here?"

"I told you we need to talk about that night." His tone told me it wasn't a suggestion.

I scoffed. "Fine. Let's talk about that night. Why did you bring me stargazing?"

"It wasn't a pick-up move," he said, his voice steady. "I know Cat told you it was, but she's wrong."

"Oh?" I raised my eyebrows. I wasn't sure how much I believed him. "Do tell, then. Because I'm dying to know."

Fionn ran a hand through his hair, clearly giving in. "Stargazing isn't a pick-up move. It's something I used to do with my mum. And it's something...all you need to know is that I decided a long time ago I wouldn't bring a girl out there unless I really liked her."

Oh. My gaze softened. He hadn't told me about his mom before.

There was a pause, then he added, "Happy now?"

I narrowed my eyes. He did not just do that. "How do I know you're telling me the truth? How do I know this isn't just to pacify me?!"

"You want me to prove it to you?" His voice echoed through the apartment.

"Yes!"

Fionn's eyes locked on mine and he closed the remaining distance between us. He grabbed my face, crashing his lips desperately into mine. I stumbled backward, pulling away from him. The taste of ginger on his lips clouded my senses.

An unspoken desire danced in the air between us. His eyes roamed over my body. Before I knew what was happening, his hands were around my waist. He lifted me up to wrap my legs around him, pulling my body closer to his. My fingers curled through his hair, a maneuver I'd been dying to repeat since that night.

His tongue danced with mine as if my mouth were a ballroom. Like dance partners, he took the lead, every movement swift and graceful.

Then suddenly we were hot breaths and a pile of clothes and a closed door. For every stolen moment, we returned a desperate kiss. For every curse we uttered, moans of pleasure echoed in the space between us.

Finally, we were one.