‘I doubt that.’ Jesus, how were they flirting already? She was sick, in dire need of hot water and soap, and meant to be mad at him for intimating that she was the only one to whom their relationship meant anything. For allowing her to think that everything they’d been through together – her grief, his insecurities – and the mutual bonds between them, were a figment of her imagination.
‘We’ve been worried about you,’ he said, suddenly serious. ‘I’ve been worried about you.’
‘I’m fine. I get like this sometimes.’
‘You do?’
‘Kind of.’
Niall narrowed his gaze like he suspected there might be more to Carli’s sickness than the flight, but he didn’t probe further. ‘Well, I’m the doctor on duty tonight,’ he said, ‘and I say drink your Irn-Bru.’
‘I’m not drinking thatfilth.’
His mouth lifted into a soft smile. ‘It’s good filth. You know it.’
She did. Because of Niall’s obsession she’d drunk her fair share of Irn-Bru during their relationship, sometimes with whisky in it. The truth was, it was completely drinkable, but she didn’t need a bellyful of bright orange sugar, caffeine and chemicals. Her body wasn’t able to withstand abuse in the same way it had when she was young.
‘I’d maybe better stick to some dry toast,’ she said.
‘Righto.’ He stood up. ‘I’ll get you some. Anything else? Painkillers or…’
‘The toast is fine. And some water. I should drink some water.’
Carli lay in bed and listened to the low creaking of the house and light kitchen noises as Niall made her order. It was sweet of him.
The least he can do.
Five minutes later, he returned with the dry toast and a glass of water. She sat up in bed and ventured a nibble at the edges. It went down okay and seemed like it might stay down.
‘Alright?’ Niall resumed his position on the chair facing her. Jeans and long-sleeved navy tee clinging to the muscles underneath. The sight of him certainly wouldn’t make her feel any worse.
She nodded. ‘Good, thanks.’
‘So, you get like this from flying now?’ He reached for the Irn-Bru from the side table. Carli eyed him mock accusingly, and he shrugged. ‘You dissed our national drink, so it’s going to someone who appreciates it.’
‘I’m not a great flyer,’ she admitted. ‘Sometimes it’s the food, sometimes it’s motion sickness. That puddle jumper from Glasgow was quite the ride.’
‘Aye, it can be if the weather’s bad. You seemed to have it pretty bad for motion sickness though.’
Carli swallowed a bite of toast. She wasn’t about to go into detail about her health problems, which were rearing their head in protest at flying halfway across the world. Niall didn’t need to know.
‘I’m fine,’ she said. ‘I found out you were back in town, that’s all.’
In his first show of surprising awkwardness, Niall twisted his fingers like they were a combination lock. ‘Aye, sorry about that.’ He met her eye as he apologised. ‘I guess neither of us had a clue the other was going to be here.’
‘Guess not. Thanks for the upgrade, by the way,’ she said, figuring it needed to be said at some stage. ‘I thought it was from your dad, so I turned it down.’
‘You’d have accepted it from me?’
‘Well… no.’
He nodded, possibly not entirely surprised by her response. A beat of silence passed as the words dissolved into the room before Niall picked up the mantle and spoke again.
‘Cass, this isn’t the time, but for what it’s worth, I am sorry.’
Oooft! Why was this apology like a sucker punch that made Carli nauseous all over again? She pulled her slice of toast back from her mouth.
‘Niall, don’t.’
