Chapter 2
Me vs. Darts
Raven
Linking arms with Rachel as we stroll down the street, I take a slow breath, soaking it all in. The charming stone buildings and the uneven cobblestone paths are so fucking cool. The way the street lamps cast a golden glow over everything makes it feel like I’ve stepped into a storybook.
I could seriously live here.
“So could I,” Rachel replies with a grin. “That would be magical. Let's sell everything and move here.”
I blink, confused. “Did I just say that out loud?”
She laughs, squeezing my arm. “Yeah. And honestly? I’m with you. Scotland feels like a dream we didn’t know we needed.”
A walk was exactly what I needed after sleeping for what felt like an eternity. The boutique shops and cafés lining the streets glow through their windows, spilling light onto the cobblestones making everything feel magical.
We pause at a few shop windows, looking at the displays of handwoven scarves, souvenirs, trinkets, and vintage books. I make a mental note to come back tomorrow, when we can actually go inside.
As we continue down the sidewalk, a couple with a fluffy brown dog turns onto our path. Before I can stop myself, I drop down to pet it, letting my fingers sink into its thick coat. The dog’s tail wags so enthusiastically it’s a wonder it doesn’t lift off the ground.
Rachel chuckles, crossing her arms. “And there it is. You lasted, what? Twelve seconds before finding a dog?”
The couple laughs, and before we know it, we’re deep in conversation. They offer food recommendations, their favorite local spots, and a place called The Realm.
“You have to go,” the woman insists. “Your trip will be tragically incomplete if you don’t.”
Rachel and I exchange a look, mentally agreeing to add it to our ever-growing list.
With one last round of goodbyes, we part ways with the couple. Their dog’s tail wags happily as they disappear into the night. The air feels a little cooler now and the distant sound of laughter drifts from the nearby cafés.
Rachel loops her arm through mine again, sighing. “I’ve missed this. Walking around, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. This is going to be so fun!”
Before this trip, we hadn’t seen each other in months. Which is practically an eternity for us. Most of our walk is spent catching up and filling in the gaps that texts and FaceTime never quite covered.
I tell her about the massive work project that’s been consuming my life, and her eyes widen when I casually mention the potential client I’m supposed to meet here.
“In Scotland?” she asks, intrigued. “Work followed you across the Atlantic?”
I shrug, smiling. “Apparently, my charm is in high demand.”
Rachel laughs, squeezing her arm tighter. “It should be. You’re a badass.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t really think we need a PR guy, but what do I know?”
The truth is, I’ve never met him in person. I don't even know what he looks like. Our conversations have been strictly business. Emails, phone calls, endless back-and-forth. Now, we finally have a face-to-face meeting lined up to finalize everything.
Rachel shifts the conversation to her own work drama and the latest mess with Bobby. I nod along, doing my best to just listen. My opinions sit sharp on the tip of my tongue, all my unfiltered thoughts that I shove deep down before they escape. She doesn’t need a lecture. Not tonight.
We turn the corner, and she points ahead. “I think that’s it… and it already looks packed.”
I take in the sight and nod. I guess that's a good sign.
The royal blue trim against the weathered brick makes the pub stand out, even though it’s tucked snugly between neighboring buildings. It has that old charm to it, and it’s clearly well-loved, like everything else in this town. Even the oldest spots look like they’ve been lovingly preserved.
Outside, clusters of people gather at the small iron tables with their drinks in their hands. Their conversations blend into a pleasant hum, while others lean against the wooden railing. Laughter spills into the air, sounding like the kind of night that makes you want to stay just a little longer.
What really makes me fall in love, though, are the lush green ferns hanging above the carved wooden sign. They sway lightly in the breeze and it's a contrast to the deep blues and dark wood. I already know I’m going to love this place.
I step through the front door and that's the only moment I almost regret choosing this place.
Almost. The space is smaller than expected, and packed.
The murmur of voices rolls like waves, filling every inch.
The clinking glasses, the flickering candlelight on wooden tables, the way the low hum of music threads itself between conversations. All of it. It's amazing.
I let out a slow breath, letting it all sink in.
Despite the crowd, there’s a warmth here, a welcoming kind of chaos. It smells like a mix of beer, musk, and a surprising hint of mint. Which is a random yet fitting addition. Somehow the scent suits this place perfectly.
My eyes flick around, unsure where to land first. To the right, a massive bar stretches along the entire side of the room.
On the opposite side, wooden tables are packed with people.
In the center, whiskey barrels that have been repurposed as tables add the perfect touch of rustic charm.
It’s exactly the kind of detail you’d hope for in a pub like this.
In the farthest corner, a heated game of darts is underway, complete with gritted teeth, cocky grins, and an explosion of shouts. Just to the left of that, an open space sits almost forgotten, clearly meant for dancing. Which is exactly what we needed.
There’s something oddly comforting about this place. It feels familiar, like we’ve stumbled into the perfect little hideaway without even trying.
I look at Rachel, suspicion creeping in, noting the very distinct absence of food. “Why do I get the feeling you knew this place didn’t have food?”
She shrugs, completely unbothered, and tugs me further into the pub. “Come on, let’s go! Besides, you ate tons of snacks. You’ll be fine. Who needs dinner when you can have a drink?”
Her carefree energy is infectious. It's the kind of recklessness that makes it really hard to argue even when I know I should.
I roll my eyes. “I said I’d think about having a drink on this trip, not that I’d get trashed the first night we’re here.”
Rachel smiles. “No time like the present. One drink isn’t going to kill you. Live a little!”
I glance around, spotting an open barrel table with two stools in the middle of the room. It’s the only unclaimed spot left, positioned right in the heart of all the action, and perfect for people watching.
A burst of cheers erupts into laughter and one of the guys steps forward to yank the dart from the board, grinning like he just won the lottery. I can't look away. Even though I try to act like I’m not blatantly staring.
I never really understood the appeal of darts. Seems like a stupid game. Throw things at a board, keep score, repeat. What’s the big deal? But judging by the sheer intensity of this match, there’s obviously something I’m missing.
An added bonus is that every single one of these guys is ridiculously good-looking.
I don’t even realize I’m still staring until Rachel’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
“Careful, love, you’re drooling,” she teases, slipping into her dramatically perfected British accent.
I blink, feeling my cheeks heat slightly. My own body is selling me out.
“I am not,” I protest, swatting her away.
She’s still grinning, holding out a napkin as if she’s doing me a favor. Her eyes practically sparkle with amusement, and I know, without a doubt, that she’s not going to let this go anytime soon.
“Uh huh.” She tosses me a wink. “Better take this before you make a puddle.”
I snatch the napkin from her with a dramatic sigh. “Oh, come on.” I smile, despite myself. “I was zoning out while listening to their accents. Honestly, I couldn’t even tell you anything about them. That's how little I was paying attention.”
Lie.
Okay, maybe not a complete lie. I had, in fact, been listening to their accents. But I’d also been watching, casually, of course. Admiring their muscles, their easy confidence, and the way their laughter rolled through the room. Appreciation, that’s all. Not interest.
Rachel laughs, clearly not buying my excuse for a second. “Oh, well then, in that case, shut up so I can hear. It looks like the guy in the yellow is winning.”
“There’s no guy in yellow.”
The second the words leave my mouth I realize my mistake.
Rachel’s grin spreads. “HA! I knew you were watching!” She practically shrieks, laughing so hard she has to grip my arm for support.
“Rave, you might fool anyone else, but don’t act like you didn’t notice how gorgeous all those guys were, while listening to their accents. You’re an excellent fucking multitasker.”
I groan, attempting to turn her away before she draws even more attention to us, but it’s too late. Her cackling has already caught the eye of one of the men.
A guy with dark hair and sharp cheekbones lifts his glass in our direction, a slow, amused smirk tugs at his lips. Shit.
Just great. That’s exactly what we needed. To attract the attention of a bunch of men we don’t know.
Rachel, of course, is delighted.
“Well, of course I noticed, I’m not blind,” I admit with a grin, leaning in slightly so my voice doesn’t carry across the room. “I’m just not available. So I settled for their accents.”
Rachel laughs, clearly unconcerned about my life choices, and turns back to the table. Without missing a beat, she slides a drink in my direction, her smile is downright mischievous.
“Here. Drink this! You’re going to love it.”
I narrow my eyes, inspecting the glass. “Are you sure about that?” My eyes shift to the two shot glasses on the table.
Oh, hell no.
“I’m really hoping those are both for you,” I add, already preparing my exit strategy.