Page 97 of So, I Met This Guy . . .

Rory frowned and swigged his beer, his forehead creasing. It was the colour of beetroot. That was going to be painful tomorrow, thought Flick absently.

‘Don’t tell me, it’s drugs.’

‘What?’ She snapped back.

‘It’s a drugs ring. All that weed they’re selling down by the canal. It’s coming from out here, isn’t it? Is that why they’ve got you gallivanting across Europe? Chasing the source?’

Rory broke off, shaking his head; the effect of his second beer, his true-crime podcast and too much sun were beginning to fuel his imagination.

‘Bloody hell, Flick, you be careful.’

‘Don’t be silly.’

‘Haven’t you seen Narcos?’

‘Rory, please, it’s not a drugs ring.’ Flick felt a stab of guilt. She felt bad lying to Rory. ‘And I think a Colombian cartel is slightly different to the teenagers from the local comp smoking spliffs by the canal,’ she teased, trying to diffuse the situation. ‘You’ve been listening to too many of those true-crime podcasts.’

But Rory looked put out. ‘It’s not funny, you know.’

‘I’m sorry, you’re right.’ Flick felt suitably chastised. Rory had a habit of always making her feel like she’d said the wrong thing.

‘Honestly, I don’t know what’s got into you, Flick. Ever since you lost your mum . . .’

At the mention of her mum, Flick felt herself brace.

‘I’m worried about you.’ Rory softened, leaning forward and rubbing her arm.

And now she was actually feeling a bit terrible. None of this was Rory’s fault. She was being totally selfish. He didn’t know her and Maggie had all these plans for tomorrow, and now they were ruined. He’d flown out to see her, because he missed her and was worried about her. So many of her friends at uni had been in shitty relationships with bad boyfriends who didn’t seem to care, but she was lucky. Rory had always been there for her. Ever since she was sixteen. She should be grateful that he cared, that he wanted to see her.

Control her.

A little voice in her head. She brushed it aside swiftly.

‘Why don’t we get something to eat?’ she said brightly, changing the subject. ‘There’s supposed to be some lovely restaurants down by the port.’

‘What about your work colleague?’

For a moment she wondered who he was talking about, before realizing.

‘Oh, I’m sure Maggie will be fine. She’ll probably be pleased to get a night off from me.’ She forced a laugh.

‘I feel like I’ve seen her before.’ Draining his beer, Rory looked thoughtful.

‘You might have, she’s living just outside town. That’s how we met. We’re working on a story together,’ she added quickly, before he could ask where exactly she lived.

‘Investigative journalism, eh?’ Rory spoke slowly, enunciating every syllable, then laughed as if this was the funniest thing ever. ‘Sorry, I’m not taking the mick, I’m just teasing.’ He leaned in and gave her a kiss. ‘To be honest, I’m just relieved you’re not with another bloke.’

‘Rory,’ she protested, irritated again.

‘Well, when I saw that honeymoon suite, what did you expect me to think?’

Flick shook her head. Honestly, those bloody swan-shaped towels had a lot to answer for.

‘Made me realize a few things.’

‘Well, I’m not with another bloke, am I? I’m with you,’ she said briskly, determined to get off this subject. ‘So, what do you fancy doing?’

‘You.’