Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
My stomach churned. “Is he okay?”
“Other than being a fucking moron, aye, he’s fine. Hurt his ankle. Bike is wrecked. Twat. I’m so mad at him! I thought we were over this kamikaze phase.”
“I thought so too.”
“I’ve tried talking to him. Mum’s tried.”
“So have I.”
“Well, I need you to try harder, Maia. You are the only one he will listen to.”
“Ainsley—”
“I’m in Inverness right now for a design job. I can’t pick him up, and his phone is running out of charge, so I told him I’d call John to pick him up. I’m not calling John. Those idiots enable one another. I know you don’t have a car, My, but can you jump in a taxi to go get him? He’ll listen to you.”
I winced, feeling terrible and like an utter failure. “I’ve tried. Believe me, he doesn’t listen to me.”
“Then make him listen. Even if you have to be cruel to be kind. Because I am done waiting for another call that my wee bro is in hospital. I can’t go through what Mum and I went through last year.”
Tears burned my eyes because I’d never heard Ainsley sound so vulnerable, so upset. She was kind of a female version of Baird but edgier.
“I’ll do what I can.”
“That’s all I ask. You … you have more influence than you know with him, Maia.” Ainsley hung up.
I stared into the mirror. I was in my sloppy, lounging-around-the-flat clothes, hair in a messy bun, makeup off with my glasses on. Yet there was no time to put on a face or contacts in.
This was me. For once I didn’t have time to care about my usual “armor.”
I was too worried, confused, and pissed off.
I decided this was the version of me Baird McMillan deserved to see right now.
“Will you say something?” Baird pleaded as I parked the borrowed car next to his in the private car park in Dean Village.
Dusk was turning to night. I’d picked up Baird half an hour ago from A&E. He’d been somewhat shocked to see me behind the wheel of my stepmum’s car. Dad and Grace lived ten minutes from the hospital, so I’d gotten an Uber there and she’d let me borrow the car. I’d return it in the morning.
Dad had wanted to accompany me, but I’d told them we’d be okay.
However, I found myself unable to speak to Baird I was that freaking angry with him.
He’d limped his way into the vehicle and tried to ask me why I’d shown up, where was John, what was going on …
I didn’t speak.
I couldn’t.
Because I might throttle him.
Pushing out of the car, I rounded it to help him, but Baird had already unfolded his large body and was closing the passenger door.
Shooting him a filthy look, I gestured for him to let us into his flat.
Baird happened to live in the coolest apartment I’d ever seen. Dean Village was medieval and among the most beautiful spots in the city. It was set down by the Water of Leith, an eclectic mix of Victorian and Tudor-style buildings. Baird’s was an iconic nineteenth-century building perched on the banks of the water.
“Maia?” He gave me a pleading look as he let me into the flat, all signs of the arrogant, cocky avoider from earlier gone.
I still didn’t say a word as I walked into his apartment and stood in the middle of the cavernous main living space. Once a social hall, the building had been split into flats, and Baird’s was the largest and most unique. The main space was cathedral-like, with ceilings so high it barely felt residential. The period windows had been retained, as had the gigantic, tiled fireplace on the west end of the room. Rows of windows on either side gave away its historic use.
Baird had tried to make the space homey with the help of Ainsley’s keen designer eye. Dramatically long curtains hung at every window, a twelve-seater dining table down one side near the fireplace, and a large corner sofa with chairs situated around a coffee table, all pointing at a large television screen beyond the dining table.
On the east end of the room was a stylish kitchen with a six-seater marble island. A mezzanine bedroom sat on a mounted base above the kitchen. A glass balustrade was the only thing between the bedroom and the hall.
No privacy, but epic design. A doorway on either side of the kitchen led up winding, narrow staircases to two more bedrooms. I knew because one time when we had movie night, I’d been too tired to travel home, so I’d stayed in one of his guest rooms.
Will was seriously pissed off I’d stayed over, so I never did that again.
“For fuck’s sake, Maia, talk to me.” Baird threw his keys on the coffee table. “The silent treatment is driving me crazy.”