Page 45 of Forbid It

“What’s that got to do with you?”

She peeks at me between her fingers. “What do you mean?”

“It’s your mum’s line, right?” I glance back at her phone. “So why are you meeting Claudia in Soho House?”

“Because it’s my brand, apparently. I don’t even know anything about homeware. I hired an interior designer and just said yes to everything she suggested.” She’s almost hysterical now, her hands pulling at the hair from her root. Cassie glances up at me, and I would do anything in the world to wipe away the overwhelmed tears gathering in her eyes.

“Okay.” I cross my arms so I don’t do something stupid like reach out and cradle her face in my hands. “Fuck this.”

She laughs.

“I’m being serious. You’re on holiday, right?”

She keeps a firm grasp on her hair as she looks at the floor, like it’s the only thing keeping her head up. Since the second the plane took off she’s been pulling her hair up and then letting it fall back down, like having something to do with her hands will keep her held together.

“Look at me, trouble.” I gently cup her elbows, even though all I want to do is untangle her fingers from her hair.

Finally, she releases her death grip.

“They’re both back in the States, right?”

She nods warily.

“Then they can both stay there and mind their own bloody business.”

She bites her lip. I slide my hands down her forearms, until her delicate wrists are resting in my palms.

“I don’t know.”

“Come home with me.” The words are out of my mouth before I can decide if it’s a tremendous mistake or not.

“What?” Her eyes widen.

I swallow. “Come with me. Turn your phone off. Spend a few days at a beach no one will expect you to be on. Let your parents fix their own cock-ups.”

The offer hangs in the air between us. It’s a ridiculous offer, but it’s the only one I have right now. I want to bundle her away from the pressure her parents are piling on her, as if she hasn’t got the expectation of the world hanging off her shoulders already.

I’m holding her hands now, her rings grazing against my skin as I brush my fingertips against hers, and I never want to let her go.

“Okay.”

20

CASSIE

“Okay,” I announce, finally. “I respect you and your career as an athlete and all, but I draw the line at listening to the cricket on the radio.”

It’s been over an hour since I fled the party like a runaway bride. We went back in for a while, and I left my phone in my handbag, probably burning a hole in the leather. I let myself be entertained by my friends and a super squishy baby, ignoring the fact that I was about to flee into the night like a criminal. When it was time to go, I barely stopped to say goodbye, instead I just grabbed my handbag and sent Pip a text explaining on my way out the door. I didn’t let myself think about what I was doing and whether or not it was an insane thing to do, but I also didn’t have time for any regret at the thought of disappointing my parents. I just needed to get out, and now Robbie is driving my getaway car.

Even if all I’m listening to is the sound of the world's most boring sport imaginable.

Robbie splays his fingers in the air on the top of the wheel, keeping control with his thumb and wrist. It should not be sexy. “We’re up five-two.”

I shoot him a deadpan look. He keeps his eyes on the road, but I can see the smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

He leans forward into the dash and hands me his phone. “Pick something else then.”

I take his phone with glee and open his music app. “Robbie King’s phone,” I muse. “I wonder how many ladies are dying for this opportunity.”