One Last Chance: Finding Love in Scotland Series Book 1

by Gina Azzi

  “Are you having fun?” Melanie asks as she gathers a handful of toilet paper.

  “Are you kidding me? This is the best!” I exclaim, layering on another coat of lip-gloss. These are the nights I’m supposed to be having. These are the adventures I’m supposed to be living. For too long, I studied my ass off and strived to maintain a nearly perfect GPA. And then I watched for nearly six months while all of my friends from ASU landed awesome jobs and I received rejection letter after rejection letter. It’s about time I loosen up and have some fun of my own.

  “Are you wanting to meet a Scottish guy?” Melanie bumps my shoulder as she washes her hands and widens her eyes at her reflection. “Jesus, I look like complete shit. Why didn’t you tell me my hair’s gone all frizzy?”

  “You look perfect.”

  She mutters under her breath, wetting her hands and smoothing them over her hair in an attempt to calm the little wisps curling from dancing amid a sweaty throng of people. “Have you met anyone here?” she asks again, curiosity burning behind her words.

  “I’ve been here a week.” I remind her. An image of Finn pops into my mind and I grin, recalling the smoothness of his jawline, the heat of his lips, the urgency in his fingers as they tangled in my hair.

  “So?” Melanie asks, her eyes glittering playfully. “You have then?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Those are the best ones. Who is he?”

  I shake my head.

  “He must be pretty special to have you flustered just thinking about him.” Her laughter wraps around us and I chime in, clutching at the sink as the heel of my boot twists underneath me.

  Wiping my fingers under my eyes, I tug on her forearm. “Let’s go dance.”

  “I’m going to figure out who it is, you know. So, you may as well tell me.”

  I bite my lip, not sure how much I should reveal. Finn and I have known each other for years and we kissed… three times now. But should I share that with Melanie? Meeting her gaze in the bathroom mirror, I giggle again, missing stupid bathroom gossip with a girlfriend. Throwing caution to the wind once more, his name rolls off my tongue. “Finn Anderson.”

  I’m opening the door and gesturing for Melanie to follow me back to the dance floor but not before I catch the drop of her jaw, the widening of her eyes, or the gleeful expression on her face.

  Then we’re cracking up, at a loss for whatever it is that’s funny, and pulled back into the swell of partygoers.

  “Call him!” Melanie urges me.

  “No way.” I swat at her. “It’s like four in the morning.” We’re sitting on the curb outside the club. On my other side, Chloe is slumped over, her eyes half-closed with alcohol and sleep.

  Behind us, I hear the retching sounds of someone, I think Dennis, vomiting. Turning around, I wince at the green pallor of his skin. Cameron pounds his back lightly and hands him a bottle of water.

  “Dennis can’t hold his liquor.” I comment.

  Melanie waves a hand dismissively and nudges me again. “You should totally call him.”

  “And say what?”

  “Um, hello. I think you’re sexy as fuck and want to jump your bones.” She announces reasonably.

  Our eyes meet and we burst out laughing.

  “Yeah, okay. That’s what I’ll say. Hey there, Finn. Please let me jump your bones.”

  “And lick your abs.”

  “Just take me home with you.”

  “Tonight!” Melanie juts a finger in the air like a dictator giving a speech.

  “Oh my God. Stop!” I bump my knees against hers and Chloe jerks awake at the movement.

  “What are you blethering on about?” she asks sleepily.

  Melanie and I erupt in giggles again.

  “Come on, mate. You’re alright.” Cameron’s voice sounds behind us as he lowers Dennis to the curb next to Chloe. “I’m going to put this one in a cab.” he explains, looking at Dennis with concern.

  “Put me in a cab too.” Chloe practically begs.

  “Let’s go.” Melanie stands.

  Helping Chloe up, we hail down a taxi and everyone piles in. Everyone except me.

  “I can only take four.” The cab driver says adamantly, holding up four fingers.

  “Wait.” My fingers catch the edge of the door before Cameron pulls it closed.

  “I’ll wait with you.” Cameron says, starting to climb out of the passenger seat.

  “No way! You need to carry Dennis up the three flights of stairs to his flat. Daisy’ll be fine. She has a ride.” Melanie explains, widening her eyes at me. “Call him.” She mouths.

  I shake my head, a flicker of nerves fluttering in my chest as I look around the street. It’s not completely empty but at the same time, I have no idea where I am.

  “Daisy?” Cameron turns to me, his eyes questioning.

  In the back seat, Dennis groans. “I think I’m going to puke.”

  “Uh, gross.” Melanie wrinkles her nose, making a gagging sound.

  “It’s fine. Go. I have a ride.” I hear myself say.

  “You sure?” Cameron asks again.

  I nod, dropping my hand from his door. He looks at me for a beat before tugging the door closed. Melanie whistles and tosses out a cat call before it slams shut.

  Then the cab pulls away from the curb and I take in my dark surroundings. Changing my mind, I lurch forward, my arm stretched in front of me. “Guys, wait.” I shout at the tail-lights. Glancing up and down the street, I curse at the emptiness. The darkness. The lack of cabs. When the hell did it get so quiet?

  “Hey there. You got a light?” A passing man calls out to me, his eyes unfocused, his feet unsure.

  I shake my head and shudder, wrapping my arms around me while I pace back and forth in front of the silent club, the music finished for the night.

  Pulling out my cell phone, I scroll to Finn’s number and press send.

  8

  Finn

  “What?” I mutter into the darkness as the shrill ringing of my cell cuts the quiet air of my room, rousing me from sleep. Turning over, I smack the top of my nightstand, my fingers searching for my phone until I grasp it.

  Squinting at the screen, I sit straight up in bed, instantly awake, when Daisy’s name flashes across the front.

  “Dais? You alright?” I answer, my voice thick with sleep as my mind races.

  “Finn? I’m so sorry to bother you.” Her voice is quiet, her r’s sharper than usual, her drawl more pronounced. Is she drunk? Noting the time, I decide she definitely is. If not steaming, then at least a wee tipsy.

  “Where are you?” I ask, pushing up from my bed and rummaging through my dresser for a pair of joggers and a jumper.

  “I need a ride.” I can hear the tears lacing her tone and my stomach turns cold as various scenarios flash in my mind. I don’t like any of them.

  “I’m coming. Just tell me where you are. Can you do that, Dais?”

  “Outside a club. I think it’s called Firefly. Except now it’s dark and there’s no one on the street. Not even taxis.”

  Sounds about right since it’s nearing 4AM and all the clubs close around 3AM. By this time, the club-goers are hitting up an after party or scoring comfort food somewhere. “Where are your friends?” I ask gently, hoping she didn’t lose them.

  “They left.”

  “They left you?” I can’t keep the outrage from my voice. Who does that? I mean, Cameron and Melanie are from Edinburgh, but the rest of the lot aren’t, they don’t know their way around the city yet.

  “It’s a long story.”

  Grabbing my wallet and car keys, I lock my front door and jog down the steps leading from my flat to the parking garage. “Alright, stay on the line with me. I’m on my way to you.”

  “I’m sorry, Finn.” She moans, “I shouldn’t have called you.”

  “Of course you should’ve. I’m glad you called.” I admit. And it’s the truth. I’d rather take Daisy home and make sure she’s safely tucke
d into her bed than thinking about all the other guys who could have done so.

  Sliding behind the wheel of my car, I switch Daisy to Bluetooth and ask about her night as I hit the accelerator and point my car in the direction of Firefly.

  When I pull up to Firefly, I spot Daisy immediately. She’s huddled under a dimly lit street lamp, her arms hugging herself from the cold. She teeters unsteadily on her boots, her hair blowing behind her from the gusts of wind. She must be freezing.

  “Get in.” I pull up beside her and lean across the center console to push open the passenger door.

  Relief floods her face as she collapses into the passenger seat, closing the door and shivering as the full blast of heat hits her. I direct all the vents in her direction, and she holds her hands up to them, opening and closing her fingers.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, looking her over. Other than appearing drunk and exhausted, she looks alright. But that means nothing. She could have been accosted or worse by any of the drunk arseholes pouring out of the clubs while her friends left her on a deserted side street.

  She inhales shakily. “Yes.”

  “Are you sure? Nothing happened? No one touched you?”

  She looks at me then, her eyes widening, the green flecks overtaking the brown. “No, no, nothing like that. I was just, I don’t know, nervous since it’s so late and so dark and,” she exhales, leaning back in her seat and pulling her seatbelt across her chest, clicking it in. “It was stupid of me.”

  “It was stupid of your friends to leave you.”

  “A misunderstanding.” She mumbles.

  “One that risked your safety.”

  She stares out the window, not saying anything. After a few moments, I jam the gearstick in drive and pull away from the club and the desolate street it sits on.

  We drive in silence for several minutes before I ask her, gentling my tone, “Are you hungry?”

  She bites the corner of her mouth, turning to me once more. I note the exhaustion stamped in her expression, the smudge of eyeliner underneath her lashes. “No, that’s alright. I’m fine.”

  “Love, I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just, I worry. Firefly isn’t in the best neighborhood and when the club shuts down, the scene clears out quickly.”

  “Clearly.”

  “I’m happy you called me and didn’t get in a car with someone who was drinking.”

  “Of course not. I just, I’m sorry, Finn.”

  I wince at her contrite tone. “Don’t be sorry, Dais. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just glad you’re alright. You call me anytime. I mean it.” I look over at her, making sure she knows I’m serious. The last thing I want to do is make her feel embarrassed for needing me.

  “Thanks.”

  “Anytime.”

  We ride the rest of the way to her flat in silence. About halfway there, her eyes flutter closed and her breathing evens out. I grin at her soft snore, the way she slumps to the side in sleep. Poor girl is knackered and she’s going to feel her night out tomorrow morning when she wakes up.

  When we arrive at her flat, I pull into the driveway and park my car. Walking around to the passenger door, I open it slowly, my hand holding her shoulder to make sure she doesn’t slide out. Unclicking her seatbelt, I try to rouse her awake.

  “Daisy. We’re here.”

  “Hmm?”

  “We’re at your flat. Come on, I’ll help you inside.”

  “Okay.” She whispers but her eyes remain closed, her body curled up.

  “Dais?” I try again, gently shaking her shoulder.

  Her head lulls to the side as she turns toward me, her eyes cracking open, her mouth parted. “Finn? Must be dreaming.”

  I smirk at her sweetness and decide its best if I carry her. Unzipping her small purse, I find her key. Hooking my arms beneath her knees and around her back, I scoop her up, cradling her against my chest.

  She shivers from the cold and melts into me, her cheek resting against my shoulder.

  “Hmm.” She breathes out again, her eyes closing once more. Within moments, a soft snore emits from her nose, her nostrils flaring slightly.

  I cradle her against me as I unlock the door and carry her upstairs to her flat. Kicking the door to her flat closed behind me, I walk into her bedroom and lay her down on her bed.

  “Dais, I’m going to take off your boots now, yeah?” I say, unzipping the length of her boots and tugging them off. She rolls onto her side and curls up, placing her hands underneath her cheek.

  I watch her for several seconds, smiling at how peaceful and innocent she looks. And then I feel like a fucking knob for watching her. Still, I can’t stop myself from bending over to brush a kiss against her forehead.

  Her eyes flutter open and she gazes up at me. Confusion mars her features as she whispers “Finn?”

  “I’m right here, love. I’m going to get you some tablets and water.”

  She blinks, sleep and alcohol clinging to her irises. “Why don’t you want me?”

  I pause, my eyes snapping to hers, searching her face for any sign that she’s joking.

  “I don’t understand why.” She sighs, her eyes closing again.

  I feel her words like a punch to the gut and hate that I made her feel that way. What red-blooded man wouldn’t want her? She’s everything, the perfect mix of sweet and bold, innocent and sassy. She’s kindhearted and thoughtful, caring and motivated.

  And in this moment, she’s vulnerable.

  I close my eyes, steadying the surge of emotions flooding through me at her question.

  Daisy thinks I don’t want her. Nothing - bloody nothing - could be farther from the truth.

  Shaking my head, I cover her with a throw blanket before walking to the kitchen to fill a glass of water.

  Rummaging through the bathroom cabinet, I find a bottle of tablets. I place both on her bedside table along with a note for her to call me in the morning.

  We need to talk.

  9

  Daisy

  I feel like I ate a bag of cotton balls and encouraged someone to take a sledgehammer to my brain when I wake up in the morning. I mean, afternoon.

  Yep, it’s 1:07PM.

  Groaning loudly at the light filtering through the blinds in my bedroom, I pull the throw blanket I’m draped in over my eyes and wince. Everything hurts.

  It takes a solid ten minutes for me to sit up and swing my legs to the side of the bed. I pause here, resting, when my eyes latch onto the nectar from the gods sitting on my bedside table.

  Water.

  Reaching out greedily, I snatch up the glass and down half its contents in several large gulps. Replacing the glass, a note rustles underneath a bottle of tablets.

  Oh, shit.

  Daisy, call me when you wake up tomorrow. Take something for your headache and drink loads of water. Hope you don’t feel like rubbish. Finn

  Finn! Hazy memories float back into my mind. Margaritas, dancing, Melanie peeing, Dennis’s scowl, standing in the cold, and Finn. I called Finn for a ride, and he took me home, carried me to bed, and left me nectar from the gods.

  Gah.

  I flop back against my pillow and wince from the impact.

  What did I say to him last night?

  There are gaps in my memory, and I pray I didn’t throw myself at him.

  Oh jeez, what if I did?

  I literally roll out of my bed and crawl to the kitchen. There, on the island, rests my purse.

  Deep breath, Dais, you got this.

  I pep talk myself until I climb to my feet and retrieve my cell phone from my bag.

  Squinting, I read the messages:

  Cameron: Hey, home okay?

  Sierra: Do you think I should do lilac, petal, or peach for the baby’s nursery?

  Melanie: So, Finn? How was he?

  Finn: Hey dancing queen, how you feeling today? I’ll pick you up at 6PM for dinner at Aunt Jenni’s. We should talk.

  Cameron: Daisy, call me. All good?

&nbs
p; Melanie: Seriously, I need details. I feel like death.

  Carter: What are you up to this weekend?

  Ugh. I slide onto a barstool and rest my head in my hands, staring at the messages. Too much effort.

  I respond to Cameron letting him know I’m alive. I message Melanie that I’m dying with memory loss. Sighing, I stare at Finn’s message for several minutes before tapping out a reply thanking him for taking me home last night.

  Then, I force myself to grab a box of crackers and two bottles of water from the fridge and make it back to my bed. Pulling off my sticky clothes from last night, I slide under the sheets in my bra and underwear and alternate between sleeping and watching Netflix until late in the afternoon.

  My phone rings with a FaceTime call and I can barely answer it. Until I see it’s Sierra, then I answer it without reservation because, let’s be real, she’s seen me hungover too many times to count.

  “Tell me you’re sleeping off too many drinks!” Sierra exclaims.

  “I’m dying. Like, for real.”

  “Damn. How hungover are you?” she peers at me through the screen.

  “Death. I don’t remember ever feeling like this. Ever.”

  Sierra gives me a look.

  “Okay fine, it was the Alpha Epsilon Phi Greek Mixer our junior year. I almost died then too.”

  “Oh my God. I almost forgot about that night. You were epic.”

  “I was a mess.”

  “A hot mess.”

  “Yes, well, I had a repeat performance of that last night.”

  “You barfed on a church lawn?”

  “Okay, so not quite as extreme. I drunk dialed Finn and asked him for a ride.”

  Sierra tosses her head back and laughs.

  “Thank you for your sympathy.” I say.

  “Oh please. I’m not going to be sympathetic over that. Besides, I bet he loved it. Playing your hero and rushing to your aid.”

  I stick my tongue out at her and she giggles.

  “Did you do anything wild like give him a drunken strip tease?” she jokes.