Page 90 of You, As You Are

He’d slept on the bus whilst she’d attempted to concentrate enough to read her book for more than a minute, which was the first time Maisie had seen him so relaxed. He had a fresh scratch beneath his eye which he must’ve gotten from his rugby practice last night after they’d spoken and could probably explain why hewas so tired. Not a worry had marred his face so far today. In fact, he hadn’t frowned all morning.

He must be sick, caught some happiness bug that’d altered his brain chemistry.

“You’re really smiley today,” she japed and nudged his knee with hers, though the way Iain turned to her wasn’t with a smile – it wasn’t with a scowl either.

He leant a little closer, elbows on the table. “I sat with a pretty woman on the seafront last night, telling her my darkest secrets.”

Maisie’s blush was instant. “And now you feel better that someone else knows.” She brushed aside thepretty womancomment to analyse later where she could freak out in private, toying with the paper case of her muffin to channel some of that giddy energy.

It’s all for show.He wasn’t saying pretty things for her benefit.

As Iain’s gaze wandered down the short space between them, his eyes turned glazed. “She might’ve been right about talking to people.”

Ha!Maisie’s cheeks ached with her happiness to hear it. Not because she’d been right – though that was always nice – but that listening to her advice had helped him to feel less heavy.

Smug, she propped her chin on her hand and leaned into his space, mirroring him as he slanted into hers. “She sounds like a genius.”

Iain’s focus inched up, moving around her face like tracing a map, before settling on her eyes, his voice pleasantly smooth when he crooned, “She’s something special, alright.”

Maisie’s cocky smile dipped.

Mutters stretched the length of the table.

How they interacted when all the elders were around was supposed to be for show, but more often than not now Maisiecouldn’t distinguish the things he said between what was real and what was not. Sitting here, holding his gaze as the group shifted and silenced, she went with her gut. And instinct told her that the butterflies which danced in her stomach were entirely true.

She sucked in a breath of reality and forced her focus away to the muffin she hadn’t yet touched, counting the fresh blueberries on the buttercream to bring her pulse – and her blush – back to an acceptable rate.

Iain cleared his throat and sat upright to chomp another bite out of his sausage roll.

“It’s been a while since we’ve seen you two together,” Vera said slyly, which of course earned the attention of absolutely everybody.

Thirteen pairs of eyes settled on Maisie’s already agitated skin. “We’ve been seeing each other. Just not with you lot around.” Some more fodder to the idea that she and Iain were actually dating.

“How was your trip to Manchester?” Ronnie asked from the next seat over.

Aha, something Maisie could talk about with ease.

“Really good.” She beamed. “My friend’s bakery opening went amazingly.”

“And you stayed up there overnight?” Mable pondered from the other end of the table, causing Maisie’s head to whip. The question got every ear listening.

Her eyes passed over Iain, hesitant to confess. “Yes …” Definitely not in the way that the series of sparkling eyes which lit up would think, though.

“Hmm, they’re sitting too far apart to have spent that nighttogethertogether,” Mable decided, and suddenly the topic of if they’d had sex was passed around the group. “What do you think, Irene?”

“Yes, I agree. Catrin?” One of the other women in Vera’s clique.

“Definitely.”

Vera waved the women off. “Well we all know that you used to plaster yourself to whatever young thing gave you her attention, Catrin. Maisie and Iain are taking things slow, aren’t you Moo Moo?”

Regretting the can of worms she’d just unleashed, Maisie’s knee bounced under the table. Iain’s pinkie finger brushed hers beside her plate, which didn’t help at all. Not in the slightest. He was trying to calm her, but he only made a shudder curl through her body to the very apex between her thighs.

“Yes,” she cut in before anyone else could speculate on whether they’d beentogethertogether or not. “We had separate rooms. Not that it’s much of your business,Nain.”

Her snarky comment earned a few amusedooos. Vera smirked, and thankfully – for the sake of Maisie’s sanity – struck up a different conversation along the table.

Iain took her hand and twisted their fingers together. “Breathe,” he whispered.

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