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“Upstairs.” Bryce’s tone is gruff. “She’s not feeling too great.”

“Really?” I frown. “But she just posted a video.”

“Aye, well.” Bryce hands over the pint he’s just poured then turns back to me. “You going up to see her then?”

“If that’s all right?”

He shrugs. “You’re both adults. Just remember there are folk down here with ears.”

Heat creeps up my neck. Christ, how much does he know about what happened between me and Maisie last time?

From his knowing look, quite a lot.

“Right. Well. I’ll just . . .” I gesture vaguely towards the stairs up to their flat then make a quick escape.

I take the stairs two at a time, my mind already forming the perfect comeback to her video. Something witty. Something that’ll get under her skin. If history repeats itself (and here’s hoping it does), our inevitable argument might just be foreplay for us tearing each other’s clothes off and her wrapping her legs around me again. I mean, obviously that wouldn’t solve anything, but⁠—

I find her curled up on the couch, swaddled in a blanket like a burrito, a hot water bottle clutched to her stomach. She’s pale, there’s a faint sheen of sweat on her brow, and there’s no sign of the usual fire in her eyes.

“Great timing, Jamie,” she says, her voice as sharp as ever despite her obvious discomfort. “Come to gloat about me being under the weather?”

All my clever words evaporate. “I . . . er, are you all right?”

“Just peachy.” She shifts slightly under the blanket. “Crippling cramps are exactly what I needed to brighten my day.”

“Oh. Right. But . . .” My gaze darts to her hot water bottle—wait, that’s a bit lower than her stomach, actually—and then straight back to her face. God, where do I even look? “You literally just posted a video, and you were smiling in it. Being cheeky! Making fun of the way heavy rain messes with my head.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh shit, it was a poke at the beer garden, not at⁠—”

“I’m winding you up.” I hold up my hands in a gesture of peace before she injures herself trying to explain. “But seriously, no one watching would’ve guessed you’re feeling crap right now.”

“It was a thirty-second video, Jamie.” She lets out an exasperated huff but winces partway through, like every movement hurts right now, even just breathing. “Social media isn’t real. Didn’t you know that? It’s called ‘grinning and bearing it’. I’m a woman. We’ve been faking it since the dawn of time.”

“Hmm.” My lips curve into a slow smirk. “Now, Maisie, let’s not rewrite history here. We both know those moans and cries you made the other day were one hundred per cent real.”

Her face flushes—not with pleasure this time but irritation—and she rolls her eyes so hard it’s a miracle they don’t get stuck. “I really don’t want to talk about that right now.”

Just then her shoulders slump and her pale face tightens, like she’s bracing for another wave of pain, and my smirk falters. Okay, maybe now isn’t the time for jokes about sexcapades.

“How long is this gloating going to take?” she asks. “Any chance we can just skip to the part where you sod off?”

“But . . .” I hesitate and gesture vaguely to her midsection. “You seem like you’re in quite a lot of pain.”

“I am in a lot of pain!” she snaps. “My periods aren’t normally this bad, but they’re always worse when I’m stressed, and guess what? I have been feeling pretty stressed recently—on account of some arse down the road opening a beer garden.” She jabs a finger at me. “It’s your fault I’m in this much pain!”

I blink at her tirade then take a half-step back for safety reasons (lest that hot water bottle become a projectile). “Aw, shit. Er . . . sorry?”

She blows out an exasperated sigh and slumps back against the cushions. “This is such terrible timing. My first video blew up—like, properly viral—and now I’ve got this amazing chance to keep the momentum going. I should be posting new content while people are still hooked, but seriously? Right now the last thing I feel like doing is making videos.”

“Then don’t! Take a break.”

She glares at me like my sole purpose on Earth is to ruin her life. “Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you? Stop making videos when folk are literally starting to come here because of them! Yesterday Da and I had a couple from Glasgow and a group of friends from Aberdeen stop by, all thanks to my video of the stone circle. I’ve had messages from people as far away as Australia saying they plan to pop in for a pint someday. I need . . . to keep making . . . more content.”

Spying her phone perched on the arm of the couch, I swoop in and snatch it up before she can stop me. “I’m taking this. For your own good.”

“Oi!” She jerks upright. “You can’t do that. Give me that back!”

“Nope, you need to rest. I’ll go out and pick you up some supplies. I know just what’ll cheer you up.”