Page 101 of You, As You Are

Fuck it.He couldn’t help himself. “Did you think that bulge was something else, Daffy?”

Her voice did a thing he could only describe asfaffing.“No. Of course I knew it was your phone. I’m just not in the habit of rummaging around in a man’s pockets.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Iain said as he typed his passcode and handed his phone over with the post that Ronnie had tagged him in on the screen. It was straightforward to find, since even though it’d been two weeks ago, it was still the most recent notification he had.

He laid back and raised his constellation map to the stars again whilst Maisie sat up and did her thing, the tips of her nails clicking on the glass as she typed.

“I think you’d be good at it.”Her words he’d never heard before he met her looped in his mind every single day. It only dawned on him then how much she always encouraged him, and as he lay there, his heart swelled inside, reminding him that it was still beating.

A minute later Maisie set her hand on his bicep. “Done.” Iain sat up again. “You can delete it, or you can send it. But you’ll never know what might happen if you don’t try.”

He read the unsent message. It was simple, to the point, and sounded far friendlier than he did in real life, but she’d made it clear that he wasn’t an officially qualified tour guide, had a dog that would be coming with him on all trips, and would be interested in helping the couple out for the week if they wanted him.

He’d be jobless by then, so he would have the time, and at least he wouldn’t be bored out of his brains sitting at homeall day. Plus, whatever money they paid him would give him another week to try and sort his shit out.

So he did it.

Iain pushed his thumb down on the blue arrow, watching the text bubble appear in the new message chain as Maisie made an excited little sound.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” he uttered as he pocketed the phone.

Maisie rolled her eyes away, and yet she smiled. At least, right before a breeze picked up and she shivered. Smugly, Iain wanted to say ‘I told you so’, but she caught on to the shitty smirk of his.

“I’m not cold,” Maisie argued as she wrapped her arms around her middle, bringing her legs up towards her chest.

Luckily, Iain had come prepared.

“Whatever you say, Daff,” he replied, already tugging the sleeves on his outer coat.

“I don’t need your—Did you wear two coats?”

Iain chuckled to himself at her mid-sentence shift. “I knew you’d get cold.” Though he was surprised that she’d lasted this long without needing an extra layer.

“It won’t—fit ...” Maisie’s voice trailed off when the padded fabric draped off her shoulders exactly where it was supposed to be. Her eyes glazed over as though she wanted to cry but was …happyabout it? Iain didn’t understand the big deal, but he let her have her moment.

Her arms crossed over her chest, fingers curling in the jacket and drawing it tighter around herself. She sniffed. “You’re not allowed to get sick because of chivalry.”

His mouth turned into an upside-down smile as his head shook away her worry. “Immunity of a brick, remember?”

Her little smile awoke a soft flutter in Iain’s chest that he hadn’t felt in years. Something that made him feel alive yet anxious at the same time.

He didn’twanta girlfriend.

He didn’tneeda girlfriend.

But every second when he was with her, he felt like he could, maybe, perhaps be enough this time.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

MAISIE

Sleepingnext to each other was a very bad, terrible, completely wrong, very –verybad idea.

Whilst Iain had been changing into his pyjamas in the bathroom – long bottoms and a t-shirt,thank god– Maisie had laid down in the centre of the bed and confirmed her suspicion that the thing was bloody tiny. Arms spread out wide like an eagle, her fingers hung over each edge where the mattress ended.

Under the duvet, she tucked herself as far up against the wall as she could. The wood panelling was cold, and she was far from comfortable in theI’m-sleeping-next-to-a-rugby-playing-hunksense. It was new for Maisie. Most definitely a problem when she wanted to roll over and be wrapped up tightly in his arms.

They hadn’t put a pillow between them for a wall, a) because there weren’t any spare, and b) because there was literally no space for one. Between Iain’s hulking stature, his broad chest, and massive thighs, and, well …her,only two inches sat between where they each tried to sleep.

---