THE TROUBLE WITH PAPER PLANES(42)

She nodded slightly, but didn’t make any effort to move. “Thanks.”

“Come on,” I said gently, picking them up and handing them to her. “They’ll help you sleep, if nothing else. Hopefully, you’ll wake up later feeling better.”

She sighed, but did as she was told, putting the water down on the bedside table again when she’d finished.

“Thank you for this,” she said again, staring up at me blankly, as though everything required far too much effort.

“You don’t need to thank me. Just lie down and get some rest.”

I pulled the door closed behind me and left her to it. The house was like an oven, and I opened the French doors to let the cool breeze in. Grabbing a beer from the fridge, I sat out on the deck overlooking the harbour and drank it.

The harbour was sparkling at high tide, a kayak and a couple of paddle-boards in the distance, making their way towards the river mouth. The afternoon was perfect, and I’d been looking forward to spending the evening with her, but not like this. I wished I could do more to help, but I knew from experience there wasn’t much more to be done except wait it out.

I remember Em once describing migraine pain as “crippling.” Judging by how pale and acquiescent she was, I thought Maia was probably in a position to agree. Sensible genes were useless against migraines, and I hated feeling so helpless. That weird sense of déjà vu hit me again.

Bridget had said she was going to call me to get me to take Maia home. Clearly, she didn’t know Maia was sleeping in her car. Was she deliberately keeping it a secret or had the subject just not come up? I didn’t blame Maia for not divulging it willingly. I doubted she’d have told me about it if I didn’t see the evidence with my own eyes. It was clearly a sore point. One thing was for sure, she couldn’t have slept off a migraine in her car, in this heat.

I took another sip of beer. Whatever reason she had for living in her car, it wasn’t good enough. There was no need for it, not with me here, and a spare room available. As soon as she was feeling better, I was going to present her with that option.

I glanced back through the house at the spare room door, my heart pumping as if I had just run a marathon. I’d known her a total of six days and now I was contemplating asking her to move in with me.

Holy shit.





EIGHT O’CLOCK CAME and went and Maia hadn’t roused. I didn’t want to wake her, so I made dinner for two, just in case she was hungry when she woke up. After I ate, I turned the TV down low and lay on the couch with a beer in the dark.


In spite of the circumstances, it felt good to have someone else in the house. When we weren’t together, she crept into my thoughts. I wondered where she was, what she was doing. When we were together, she seemed to fill the space around us, and not just with her physical presence, either.

Maybe it wasn’t her, maybe it was me. Whenever she was near, I felt better. Being with her made everything seem brighter, more hopeful. I felt alive again.

Almost as if she could hear me, the spare room door opened and she stood there, dishevelled and half-asleep and yet looking so completely enchanting I was momentarily speechless. She was the epitome of untamed beauty. She brushed her hair away from her face and finger-combed it into place at the crown. As soon as she laid eyes on me, she gave me a small smile.

“Hi,” she said, standing there, completely oblivious to the effect she was having on me.

“Hi,” I sat up, taking control of my senses again. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. Much better.”

“Good. Hungry? I made you some dinner, just in case.”

“You did?”

She looked shocked. Still foggy, but shocked nonetheless.

“I mean, don’t get excited, it’s nothing fancy – just pasta.”

“It sounds great. Thank you.”

My heart floated inside my chest, buoyed by an overwhelming sense of contentment. I wanted to make her happy, surprise her, spoil her. She deserved it, for all she had done for me this past week, whether she knew it or not.

“Do you want to go freshen up or something while I heat it up? There’s fresh towels in the bathroom, if you want to take a shower.”

She glanced down the hall to the bathroom, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” I said, standing up. “How does fifteen minutes grab you?”

She smiled. “Plenty long enough. Thank you.”