Page 28 of You, As You Are

“Ydw.?*”

“Forget I said that?”

Iain’s mouth curled on one side like a devil in a grin. “Too late.”

Two hours later and Maisie could finally say that she’d moved in. She’d paid the first month’s rent upfront yesterday, and the letting agent had left the key in the lock box by the door.Everything was ready to go, and Vera provided them with BLT baguettes that were to die for before the anarchy of dismantling boxes began.

Shoppers bustled in and out of the bookstore below her, and by the sounds of it she definitely had neighbours upstairs, but at least she had her own home again.

There wasn’t much that Maisie could do to make the space completelyhers; she couldn’t change the muted sage walls or the dark-brown carpets. A few houseplants and art prints and things would look nice enough. Vera’s friend’s granddaughter had left behind a baby-pink sofa – the only seating to fit between the TV unit, coffee table, and where Iain assembled a desk she’d ordered on next-day delivery. If she couldn’t have space to work from home, then she couldn’t live here, not even temporarily.

The man had driven his car home, since the on-street parking situation made Maisie glad not to own her own car, and casually came back with a box of tools, basic cleaning supplies, and teabags. Then he’d stayed to help even when he didn’t have to.

Maisie hadn’t gotten far into unpacking,yet again,when Vera stopped cleaning and emerged from the modest kitchen with her coat in one hand and purse in the other. “I’m just going to pop up the road, love, and get you some groceries before the shops shut,” she said. “It’ll tide you over until morning.”

“Thank you,Nain.”

Vera zipped up her coat and strode out of the door on a mission, which left Maisie alone with Iain once more. He’d be sick of the sight of her by the end of the day, even though she’d told him over and over that he could go whenever he liked. The level at which he dusted that offer off repetitively made butterflies flutter out of their cocoons in her stomach.

Moving to the window that needed a go around with a duster, Maisie peeked to make sure Vera made it down the steep steps in one piece. “I didn’t expect her to be so eager for me to moveout.” She didn’t know if Iain was listening, but she thought aloud anyway. “I thought she’d want me to stay.”

Laid on his back, Iain tightened up the bolts on the underside of her new desk. “What if she didn’t want you to feel like you were tethered to her?”

“But I am.” Though he didn’t know the real reason why.

“You’re doing a good thing by being here when the rest of your family is so far away,” he said, his voice a little strained. “But you’re notstuck. You have the choice to leave.”

The corners of Maisie’s pinched features softened as she read the scrunch in Iain’s brow. Maybe he didn’t realise it, or perhaps she was too adept at tuning in to what it was that peopledidn’tsay, but he’d given away a detail of his life there. One that wasn’t trivial.

Feet pressed into the carpet so his legs were bent, Iain exhaled, looking pained as he filled her silence. “I was trapped,” he said. “For a long time. And when I thought life was finally turning around, it fell to shit.”

“Is that why you moved here?” Maisie had asked him before, but maybe she’d get more of an answer now.

She’d hoped for too much. He reached under the desk and stretched his long frame to check another bolt, and Maisie received one of his usual grunts that dismissed her question entirely. Iain’s life wasn’t her business, and she wouldn’t be staying in Wales long enough to make it so.

Idleness wasn’t going to help her get things done, so she took the scissors from her overall pocket and cut into a box of blankets and bedding.

Iain rolled up onto his feet with groans that gave away his age – sounds that Maisie hadn’t heard in the context she’d prefer to for months.

Attempting to ignore the pull she felt coercing her to turn and watch his every single movement, she folded a blanket overthe sofa’s back, using the distraction to say, “So, I had something that I wanted to ask you.” She received a sort of ‘go ahead’ grunt and a nod. “What’s your last name?”

Iain looked at her sideways before shoving the completed desk up to the wall. “Howell. Why?”

It was better than Faye’s method of online stalking. “It just feels odd not knowing somebody’s last name. You knew mine before you even knew my first name.”

“I remember, Moo Moo.”

Internally, Maisie groaned. “I wish you’d never heard that.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s childish.”

“Which is exactly why you should hold onto it.” Iain’s brows jumped as he moved to find his next task. “Trust me.”

Why did everything he say add another layer to his mysteriousness instead of take one off? It must be stifling.

“Are your family from here?” she asked.

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