Chapter 5

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2007

It was late 2007, rapidly approaching Christmas, when Kelly fell into my lap.

And I mean that in the literal sense as well.

I was in a trendy gastropub in Manchester where my colleagues were having an unofficial pre-Christmas night out. The bar was, unsurprisingly for the time of year and the high level of pretentiousness of the venue, very busy, and as Kelly tried to pass our table on the way back from the bathroom, someone jostled against her and sent her flying on top of me.

"I'm so sorry!" She exclaimed, trying to remove herself from me. Unfortunately she was more than a little tipsy (as was I, I should add) and some of the sequins on her dress snagged on one of my shirt buttons. This meant she was still on my lap and effectively gyrating against me as she struggled to extricate herself.

And I found myself struggling to not get . . . hard. Because, let's face it, she was inadvertently giving me a lap dance.

"Look, stop moving about; let me try and free us" I eventually said, with a nervous laugh. It was loud in the pub (of course - because why wouldn't you blast music at full volume and force everyone to shout over it!?) and I had to speak directly into her ear to make sure she heard me. My lips accidentally brushed her skin and I was pretty sure she shivered. Once again, I felt a stirring down below. I needed to remove this girl from me as quickly as possible before I completely mortified myself.

And then, I found myself thinking, maybe I can try to get to know her better?

Once she stopped flailing around it was far easier to locate where exactly she was hooked onto me and untangle us. She slid off me with a relieved sigh, and we both laughed.

"Sorry again," she said ruefully. "That was embarrassing." I realised then that she was also Scottish. It was always nice to meet a fellow Scot in a foreign country. Manchester might have only been a few hours drive away from home, but sometimes it may as well have been the other side of the world.

"Ah, don't worry, you're not the first girl to fall for me," I said jokingly, realising suddenly that was true as I remembered Christine falling out of the bathroom onto me all those years ago. Pushing that thought to one side before I got dragged involuntarily back down memory lane, I slid out of the booth. "Can I get you a drink to make up for your traumatic experience?"

"That would be amazing," she said gratefully, following me to the bar. "I hope you realise I don't make a habit of throwing myself on guys in pubs though."

"I guess I should be flattered I was your first then," I teased. I was already taken-aback by how easily our banter flowed; I'd never been particularly great at chatting girls up. It was also starting to sink in just how pretty she was - her hair blonde and wavy, her eyes an unusual light green colour - and there was just something about her that immediately intrigued me.

"I'm Kelly." The girl smiled at me as I passed her a glass of wine. She tilted the glass towards my pint. "Cheers!"

"Ryan." I replied, as we clinked our drinks together.

"No way, my surname is Ryan." She started to giggle. "So if we got married, and you decided for whatever reason to take my name, you would be Ryan Ryan!"

Oh. A nervous chuckle escaped my lips.

Suddenly she seemed to realise what she'd said and a blush crept over her face. "Oh God, I can't believe I just said that. Please just ignore me." She put her wine down and covered her red face with both hands. "Fucking hell, I am so bad at this."

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