‘I’ve told you about her.’

He nodded.

‘She’s getting married. In Bali. In November.’ I took a breath. ‘She’s booked out this really nice resort. It’s on the beach but it’s near a rainforest and there’s a pool and a bar and the villas have freestanding baths, right in—’

‘Cait.’

I hesitated. He was looking at me now, properly, making me giddy. I had no idea what I was doing. ‘I know Bali is probably a little touristy and basic and you’ve probably been a dozen times, but I thought, if you’re free, you might want to come with me?’

His face did something. The twitching of his jaw intensified and I saw his hands move.

‘It’s not a big deal,’ I lied. ‘I just have a plus one.’

He nodded, thinking.

‘You don’t have to answer right now.’ That was a lie too. My whole body was aching, waiting for him to react, my voice shaking. ‘But think about it.’

‘I will.’ He hesitated. ‘But why?’

I shrugged. ‘Why not?’

‘Because—’

‘Why haven’t you been in to Sawyer’s?’ I asked, cutting him off. ‘You usually come in all the time. Nobody’s drinking the Glenmorangie. It’s going to go off.’

He looked at me. ‘Whisky doesn’t go off, Cait.’

‘Still.’

I took a step towards him. He didn’t move but I saw him inhale.

‘Have you been working different shifts?’

I could see him consider it, deciding whether to lie or not. ‘No.’

His voice was pained, and it made my chest tighten even more. I stepped forward again, looked at the ground between us, trying to figure out how much more there was to cover. Too much. Too little.

‘So?’

He exhaled. ‘I thought you might want space.’

I paused, thinking about it, thinking about how I’d felt all week. Terrified of what was going to happen when I saw him again. But not just terrified. Not the way I’d been on that overpass. Something else.

I took another step, looked back up at him, shook my head.

One thing.

‘I don’t want space.’

‘Okay.’ But he didn’t sound convinced.

‘I don’t want space,’ I repeated. When I stepped forward again he was right in front of me, hands still in his pockets.

‘So do you want to go for a drink, or …’ His voice was unsteady.

‘No.’

I blinked, and then he was closer, and I didn’t know if I’d moved this time or he had. He was so close I could see the curve of his neck, the twitch of his jaw, the pulse in the hollow of his collarbone. Fast. Mine was fast too. And loud. All I could hear. I forgot what I wanted to say. I forgot—everything.

How to breathe.

‘What do you want, Cait?’

My eyes met his, hot, stinging. It hurt, everywhere.

All over. Ached.

One thing.