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“Something you need to do,” Calli cuts in quietly.
My eyes widen at her change of heart. I can't help but smile at the irony. “Yesterday you were sure I was making a huge mistake.”
“And then I got my head out of my own arse and realised this is about you—not us.” She sighs and rubs her temples. “Ez, I barely slept last night thinking about this. You're right. I get it now. I understand why you need to do this, and as much as I’m going to miss you, I can't let you talk yourself out of this. If something I said stopped you going, and then you…” Her voice trails off. “I'd never forgive myself. Besides,” she says as she hands me her iPad, “this just came in.”
I scan the screen, my interest plummeting to zero when I realise it's another email. I can’t handle any more today. I go to hand it back to her but she stops me, forcing it back into my grasp.
“I know, the last thing you want to do is read another email, but trust me on this. I think this guy could be it.” Her eyes plead with me and I don’t have the heart to tell her no. While I might’ve given up hope, she obviously hasn’t.
“Fine,” I grumble. “I'll read it. Then you're buying the pizza. And ice cream. All the ice cream.”
“Deal.” She grins. She kisses me on the nose and gets to her feet. “I’ll go now and give you some privacy.”
“Since when do you ever give me privacy?” I laugh.
She tosses me a look over her shoulder as she grabs her purse. I wait until she’s out of the room before I begin to read. I’m convinced this one little email isn’t going to change anything, but I’m not even through the first line and I’m doubting that thought.
This isn’t exactly the kind of thing I thought I be applying for on a Thursday night, but what the hell. I don’t even know where to begin. What am I supposed to say to a dying woman who wants to take me on the trip of a lifetime?
I have no idea, so I’ll start with this. You probably don’t really know what you want. You’re scared, and you probably feel alone, and you don’t know what to do to fix that. I get it. I understand that more than you’ll ever know.
I’m not going to sit here and pretend to be your friend, or tell you all the reasons why I’m your perfect travel companion. The truth is, I’m probably not. But you can rely on me to tell you how it is and keep whatever dream you have for yourself alive. If you ever find yourself standing on the edge of a fast-flowing river, wondering if you should jump, you can trust me to be there to talk you out of it.
Whatever it is you’re looking for, I’ll help you find it.
I focus on that one line, reading it over and over. My heart pounds as I try to decrypt the message. It couldn’t be him, could it? No way. That would be too much of a coincidence. I shake it off and read through the email again.
Even without the possibility that it might be the same guy, he is miles ahead of everyone else. His email has what all the others were missing: that hard edge, that no-bullshit attitude. I don’t need things sugarcoated. I need someone to push me, because when it gets down to what this whole trip is really all about, I’m not sure I can go through with what I have planned. I need someone who can talk me into things as much as I need them to talk me out of them. The truth is, I’m terrified, and I can’t talk to anyone about it.
Ten minutes later, the door opens and Calli walks back in, carrying a box from next door. Her dark brown eyes search mine as she sets down our food.
“Well? What do you think?” she asks carefully. Her cheek twitches like it does when she’s nervous.
I shrug, pretending I’m not ready to jet set off around the world with this guy. “He sounds fine. But I don’t know anything about him other than this.” I gesture at the email on the screen. “He could be fifty, for all I know.”
“Would that matter?” Calli jokes.
I narrow my eyes at her and she rolls hers in response.
“Geez, he’s not fifty, Ez. Give me that.”
I hand her the iPad back, suspicious of how certain she sounds.
“You’ve spoken to him already, haven’t you?” I accuse her. How else would she know he’s not old and creepy? She’d need a name to be able to stalk him, so she must have contacted him already. I don’t know whether to be impressed or annoyed.
“I—” she starts to protest and then sighs, nodding her head. “Fine. I wasn’t sure you’d agree to meet with him, so I thought I might need more ammunition.”
“Ammunition?” I snort. “We’re not going into battle, Cal. It’s not a war—”
She holds the iPad up to my face and I stop short, speechless. It is him, and he’s even sexier than I remember, with that mop of curly, dark hair that I just want to bury my face in. Calli smirks at my reaction, but I don’t care. I’m too focused on finding out as much as I can about this guy.
According to Facebook, his name is Cade Wilson. I study his profile picture. He has his arm draped casually around the neck of a large golden retriever, and he smiles a lopsided grin sexy enough to make my heart flutter—though that could be a side effect of three years of radiation treatment.
“Okay. You win. I’ll email him. Unless you’ve already given him the plane ticket?” I’m only half joking.
Slowly getting to my feet, I walk over to the couch, rubbing my head as I go. It’s been a long, stressful day. I’m exhausted, and the thought of seeing him again is more than a little terrifying. Cade. Even his name is perfect. I bite my lip and sigh.
“You okay?”
