Page 139 of You, As You Are

The creaking of the stairs preluded Maisie coming down. She didn’t have any clothes to wear after her bath other than her dress, so he’d left out an oversized hoodie and clean jogging bottoms on his bed. As it turned out, seeing her in his clothes in the mirror reflection made some recess Iain had forgotten about in the centre of his chest ache.

He couldn’t help but feel that this flame between them wasn’t meant to burn out fast. It was meant to simmer and last. Grow and steal oxygen from the room until they couldn’t breathe. It could die if they let it and so would they. Or they could open a window, kick a crack into a wall, give this delicate flame more of a chance to stay alive.

For an hour he’d thought about what he was going to say in the talk he’d promised, and for an hour Iain’s mind had gone in circles. Neither his head nor his heart were on the same page, and it was agony trying to decide which one to let overrule the other.

“How are you feeling now?”

Curls tied away in one big bun, Maisie’s face looked refreshed. “Better,” she said. “Thank you for doing that.”

“Of course.” Iain scratched at the back of his head. “Food is staying warm in the oven.”

“What did you make this time?” Wearing all navy that was all his, Maisie padded her way around his living room, her nose in the air pointing at his open kitchen.

“Do you have an aversion to katsu chicken and rice?”

Coming to his side, she shook her head. “I love it. What happened to your forehead?” The pad of her thumb feathered over the tender skin.

If he told her what he’d been doing to that fridge door, then she’d think he was an idiot. “Was just … playing with Ted.”

With a doubtful eyebrow raise, Maisie bent down and scratched Ted behind the ears, giving Iain a truly fantastic view of her—Don’t think about it.He had important things to say, and he couldn’t if all his blood rushed south.

“Did you hurt your daddy?” Maisie said to Ted who lapped up her attention like always.

“I’ll show youdaddy.” Iain gripped her hips and pulled her backwards to him. Maisie laughed as he dipped his mouth to her neck.

“Iain!” She covered his forearms wrapped around her with her hands. “I’m still sore.”

“I’m sorry.” And he meant it.

“It’s okay.”

“Did I hear you on the phone?”

“Faye called to catch up. I haven’t spoken to her this week.Oh—Alun said you should call him, by the way.”

Maisie patted his hands and stepped forwards away from him towards his kitchen, and the only reason Iain let her go was because hearing that name on her lips made his body freeze.

His throat tightened. “Alunwho?”

Maisie shrugged, taking the tray of food out of the oven. “I don’t know. He stood by me at the game earlier, and we talked. I said I was there for you, and he said that he knew you when you were younger.”

Fuck. Fuck.“What did he look like?”

Her brows pinched. “He said you’d know who?—”

“Maisie?Please.”

She set the oven tray on the countertop. “Okay. Wait, he might be in the edge of a photo. I took a few.” Taking her phone out of the pocket of his hoodie, Maisie tapped over the screen. “Here. I took a selfie to prove to my brothers that I’ve been to a game. He’s the man behind me.”

Iain’s body may as well have been drowned in ice when she turned the phone to him.

There. He was fucking there.

He inhaled deeply to grab an inch of composure.

“That’s my dad.”

* Shit.

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