Page 61 of You, As You Are

He scoffed. “And listen to him berate me for another thing about my life? No.”

“Iain—”

“I have to go. We’re busy today.” A complete lie. “Bye Lewis.”

Maisie Moss was a genius.

Their first meet-up with the hiking group since their fake dating ruse had begun at Ms Vera’s party, and no one so far had pushed them towards being joined at the hip – not when they’d walked to the meeting spot by the pier together and sat side by side on the minibus by choice.

The redhead was right: the pensioners of the group gave them fewer meddling looks now that they assumed they would come as a pair. They all seemed satisfied that their job was done. With any luck, things would stay this way for another few weekslike he and Maisie had agreed, and then this could all stop. Iain could go back to his life, and she could go back to hers.

Ted spread out in the aisle between the seats like he did on every bus journey.

Iain read the time on the clock above the driver. “Only twenty minutes left.”

No response.

Frowning, he looked over. Whether she noticed him do so or not, Maisie didn’t take her head out of her phone – she hadn’t for the last half an hour. Iain wouldn’t usually glance at someone’s phone without them knowing, but she flicked through tabs for websites like her fingers were on fire.

He nudged her elbow with his. “Everything alright?”

“No,” she said immediately.

Something was definitely wrong.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” Iain asked like any good boyfriend should sincesomeoneon this bus would be listening in.

Their bodies were pressed side by side, as usual on this damn minibus with emphasis on themini, so when Maisie’s shoulders dropped, he knew it.

“My friend’s new bakery is opening in Manchester next weekend and I don’t think that I can go. I’d have to take at least three trains to get there and they’re so expensive. I’d borrowNain’scar if I thought it’d actually make the journey and not fall apart. And the buses take …” She pressed her phone screen a few times. “Sixhours.” Her head fell back and thudded the chair in defeat as she groaned. Ted picked up his ears. “I’m going to have to say I can’t go.”

It was too much information for Iain to keep up with at that speed, so he broke it down.

Friend. Bakery. Manchester.

Expensive trains. Rusty old car. Long bus rides.

Can’t go.

The overtones of their conversation as he’d walked her home after Vera’s party weren’t lost on Iain; he knew how much Maisie’s friends meant to her and that she missed them. If she’d found out by now what was occurring with Vera to get every Moss so worried, then he was convinced Maisie would already be gone. Back to London. Back to her friends. So he wasn’t surprised that her disappointment for being thwarted in her chance to see one of them would bring her close to tears.

“When is this?” he asked.

“Next Saturday.”

“And you were only planning to go for the day?”

“That was the plan. But now there are no plans at all,” she said, her sadness tugging on strings of Iain’s heart that he didn’t know he had.

Closing his eyes, he shook his head at himself. What on earth was he doing? His whole mantra of ‘do not get attached’ felt less like a command and more like a cloudy suggestion each day.

Before he could change his mind, he blurted, “I’ll take you.”

Silence sat for a long moment, then Maisie’s eyes drew up slowly, glistening like a dewy meadow in spring. “What did you say?”

Iain repeated himself. “I’ll drive you up there.” Besides from helping her out, it’d play nicely into their hand in this ruse. That was the only reason. Theonlyreason. The fact that he couldn’t stand to see her upset wasn’t one at all.

Her chin quivered. “Why would you do that?”

---