However she felt about seeing Declan and Rosie together, she had to hide it. She adored her sister and she would never do anything to hurt her. But Rosie was intuitive, and that was one of the other reasons Becky had been avoiding her. She was terrified she might not be able to hide the way she felt.
She’d tried to push it out of her mind, but they were going to be home in an hour and there would be no more avoiding it.
She groaned. “My Christmas is going to be full of other people’s romances. Lots of kissing and cuddling. Kill me now.” She should have made an excuse. It would have been awful, but better than this alternative. “I can’t do this. Can we just drive straight to Scotland and find a cute bothy in the middle of nowhere to hide out? Tell everything we were snowed in on the journey?”
“Sure.” His tone was light. “If that’s what you’d like.”
She slid lower in her seat, imagining it. “Right now, it’s exactly what I’d like.”
“You’re just tired, Becks. You’re always cranky when you’re tired.”
“I’m not cranky.” She stared ahead and then looked at him. He knew her too well, that was the problem. “Okay, maybe I’m a little cranky. But I’m not tired. That bed was comfortable. Like sleeping on a cloud. I slept brilliantly.”
There was a pause. “Really?”
“Ten hours straight. Which is so unusual for me. Normally I’m like a meercat, on full alert for most of the night. You?”
“I didn’t sleep that well.” He adjusted his grip on the wheel. “I had things on my mind.”
Things? What things? Was she supposed to ask?
“You probably slept more than you think.”
She knew for a fact she’d woken up before him. In the end they’d agreed that Will sleeping in the chair was just too stupid for words. The bed was big enough for both of them and they’d known each other forever, so it made perfect sense for him to lie down on one half of the bed and get a proper night’s sleep so that they would both be fresh for the journey.
To begin with it had felt strange and she’d lain there rigid, afraid to move in case she accidently touched him, but then finally she’d drifted off and had the best night’s sleep she could remember having in years.
She’d woken feeling warm and comfortable and it had taken a moment for her to realise she was snuggled against him with her head on his chest. Turned out those shoulders of his made a very satisfactory pillow.
She’d unpeeled herself carefully, trying not to wake him because she didn’t want to risk an awkward moment, but luckily for her he hadn’t stirred. Which was how she knew he’d slept for at least part of the night.
But his sleep pattern wasn’t her main problem right now.
“So how am I supposed to handle this?”
“Handle what?” He slowed down as a car pulled out in front of them. “You need to be specific. Is it Declan? Seeing your family? Their feelings? Your feelings?”
“All of the above.”
“I’m sure it will be easier than you think.”
“Maybe, but what if it isn’t. We’re friends, right?”
“Yes. We’re friends.”
She frowned. “You hesitated.”
“I did not hesitate.”
“You definitely hesitated.”
“What is it you want from me, Becky?”
He sounded tired. Maybe he really hadn’t slept the night before. After all she wouldn’t have known, would she? She’d been asleep.
“Friends help each other out. Isn’t that what you said?”
He paused. “Yes. That’s the general idea. What help do you need?”
