‘Hey, Cass.’ A deep voice rumbled through the space towards her.
Yep, it was him alright. Her childhood sweetheart. Her first love. Scottish, confident and, despite being flanked by mainly darkness, assuredly masculine.
Well, this was unfair. This was the reunion she was getting? No time to prepare.
Turn away, go to bed. You’ll wake up later and find it was all a dream.
But one step towards her room and Carli reeled. Then, in a show of complete betrayal, her legs deflated like an empty windsock, and she dropped to the carpet.
She wasn’t out cold. A cloudy awareness surrounded her. And emerging from those clouds was Niall, by her sideso quickly, he could almost have caught her before she hit the floor. He must have taken the stairs three at a time.
‘Cass? You okay?’ Niall’s deep and urgent tones filled the space between them.
She muttered something that contained the wordsfineandbed, but whatever protestations she was trying to make, they weren’t convincing enough for him.
In many other circumstances, Niall sliding his arms under her knees and lifting her up would have been sweet, but in this moment, it was the worst thing Carli could have imagined. She should be wearing a floaty summery dress, have hair that smelled of cherry blossom and not be weighed down by the wrongs of the person who was lifting her up, for a start.
‘It’s okay.’ His voice vibrated lowly against her neck as he carried her towards the bedroom. ‘I’ve got you.’
‘You didn’t need to…’ she mumbled. My God, his body was rock solid, the arms holding her whole body weight so strong. Effortlessly, he carried her, like she was a shell he was bringing back from the beach. She was a shell right now. ‘I could have…’
‘Shhh.’ Niall kicked open the bedroom door with his foot and carried her to the bed. Gently, he laid her on the mattress, lifted her legs under the duvet, then pulled it up over her shoulders.
Exhaustion and embarrassment hovered over Carli. She wished they would drop and push her through the mattress into the floorboards. Should she close her eyes and hope Niall went away so she could regain some of her lost dignity or open them and look at him, take in how he’d changed in the intervening years? At this moment, she was being granted a five-star view of his broad, denimed thighs and crotch as he stood overher bed.
Tilting her head back on the pillow, she watched him towering over her.
Hunkering back on his knees, Niall crouched down to meet her, bringing their faces level. Except there was no level because now, in the lamplight, it was obvious that present-day Niall Butler held the power to captivate her as much as the original version did. More so. The soft, boyish face had been edged out by the masculine angles and strong stubbled jawline of a man, the nose was stronger now and, oh, the eyes – oceanic blue with flecks of emerald. They hadn’t changed one bit apart from to fit even more perfectly into the surrounding features, and that was their power. Niall Butler had grown into himself in the most striking way.
And she was falling apart.
Ugh.
She shouldn’t even have the energy to be humiliated. But she was mortified.
‘Hey.’ Niall smiled tenderly, the softness in his eyes betraying the sweetheart she’d once known. ‘It’s good to see you again.’
Liar.She could not be good for anyone’s sight right now.Could she turn around, face the wall and hope that this wasn’t happening? At least not until tomorrow when she’d showered and washed her hair.
‘Hey, Niall,’ she groaned back. ‘I’m sick.’
‘I know.’ His rich Scottish accent filtered through her like gravelly, healing honey. ‘Do you need anything?’
To understand why you’re here. For you to go away until I’m ready for this.
‘No… ’s fine.’ Why wasn’t there some kind of adrenaline fuelling her here? Helping bolster her in the presence of her teenage love – the man she’d lost her virginity to, for goodness’ sake, who after four months of long-distance letter writing and texts where he appeared to miss her as much as she missed him, and even talked about getting married, had told her that he wasn’t sure he loved her anymore, or if he ever had. Surely, at the very least, she deserved to be the one calling the shots today.
Thanks, universe, for rendering me a shivering, sweating mess. Thanks a bloody lot.
‘Okay, if you want anything, you just… um…’ Niall glanced around the room as if for some kind of bell or alarm.
‘I’ll be okay.’
‘I’ll come back and check on you.’ The weight of his gaze on her was heavy, flickers of concern, like there was genuine worry contained there. His upper arm flexed for a moment, like it wanted to move to her face. But he stopped it. He couldn’t stop the looking though, it seemed. The searching. The questioning.
What was he questioning?
Years seemed to pass as their gazes locked. Like they were spinning back through the years, trying to find a way to grasp onto each other again. Trying to travel back to when they were Niall and Carli, singular. A couple of desperately in love teenagers.
