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“Inspiring?” She makes a face. She doesn’t take compliments very well. I guess that’s another thing we have in common. “Hardly. I mean, I can’t do much else, can I? I’m not inspiring because I’m forced to deal with the hand I’ve been dealt. That’s just life.”
“It’s the way you deal with it,” I argue. “How many people would be falling in a heap right now? You have a wicked sense of humour that you’ve managed to hold onto, and you have this ability to make me laugh about things I really shouldn’t be laughing at. You make people want to be around you.”
“Well, thanks,” she says, her cheeks going red. “I still don’t think I’m anything special, but I’m glad you like spending time with me. It means a lot to hear
you say that.”
We settle into our long flight by alternating sleeping, watching movies, and getting to know one another. She tells me about her job and her friends, and I tell her about Chris.
“He sounds like the type of guy Mel would jump on,” she chuckles.
“And he’d probably love that. We should set them up when we get back. At the very least it will be hilarious.”
She goes quiet, then nods, a wistful smile on her face. “Yeah. It would be.”
“What is it?” I ask.
“Just thinking about some of the things I’ll miss. My friends getting married. Having babies.” She shrugs, pretending it’s not affecting her as much as it clearly is. “It’s just hard sometimes, you know?”
I don’t know, and I’m not going to pretend that I do. I have no idea how hard this is for her, and saying I do just minimizes what she’s going through. So I’ll just listen, and be there if she ever wants to talk, because that’s one thing I can do right.
“Look out there.”
Erin follows my gaze out the window. She gasps, her face lighting up.
“We’re almost there,” she breathes. “I can’t believe this is actually happening.” She grabs my hand and squeezes it, her touch sparking something inside me.
I watch her face, loving how animated she is being. Her excitement is infectious and I can’t help but smile at her.
The plane lands, and we wait impatiently to get through customs and collect our luggage. Nearly an hour later, we are standing outside the airport, trying to track down the correct shuttle bus. The cool air is intensified by the wind, the overcast sky threatening to pour down at any moment. I never thought I’d say this, but I’m already missing my hot, Australian summer.
“Over there.” I point to the far left side, where a line of buses wait, one after the other.
We weave our way through the crowd of people to our bus. I load our bags while Erin takes a seat, and then flop down next to her. I’m fucking exhausted. The jet lag and lack of sleep are really messing with me, but I don’t say anything because I can’t imagine how she must be feeling.
“Please tell me the sun is setting and not rising,” I mumble, rubbing my tired eyes. I feel like shit. All I want to do is crawl into bed and sleep for a week. Erin laughs and nudges me, her blue eyes dancing.
“It’s rising, Cade,” she sings. How the fuck is she so happy? It’s like she downed a cupful of glitter. “We’ve got the whole day ahead of us before we even think about sleep.”
I stifle a groan and fold my arms across my chest. I close my eyes, making do with the fifteen minutes it will take to reach the hotel. Not that she’ll let me sleep. She chatters next to me, like she’s taking every opportunity to keep me awake. And it’s working.
“Nice,” I mutter as we pull up outside a flash-looking hotel that overlooks the centre of town. It’s a huge building with big windows and lush green lawns. We step off the bus and unload our luggage. A porter races over to us, insisting on collecting our bags. I grin and step back, letting him take them.
“What were you expecting, a dorm in a hostel?” she jokes.
“No, but I’m guessing you forked out a bit for this trip. Two rooms, it would add up pretty fast. It’s just nicer than I was expecting, that’s all. Is it rude of me to ask how much this trip is costing you?”
“Ten grand,” she admits. “And that was with some great flight deals. But what am I going to do, take my savings with me?”
“I guess not.”
We book into our rooms—which are interconnecting and on the second floor—and agree to meet back in the lobby in half an hour. I’m tempted to try and squeeze in a power nap, but I know I barely have time for a shower. I normally wouldn’t blink at skipping breakfast for a bit of shut-eye, but I don’t want to disappoint Erin. I glance at my phone and see it’s nearly nine in the evening. It takes me a moment to figure out, but when I do, I smile. She was playing with me. Thank God it’s reasonable for me to go to sleep after grabbing some dinner.
I jump in the shower, then try calling Bella. Not surprisingly, since she’s been avoiding my calls, there is no answer. As an afterthought, I check the time in Australia. Ten hours ahead, which places it Tuesday morning. My stomach twists into knots. What is she doing? Who is she with? I force myself not to think about it, because it’s going to drive me crazy.
I spot Erin sitting over by reception. She looks gorgeous in a black, knee-length dress, her hair swept back in a bun. Even after God knows how many rounds of treatment, her curves are perfect. I saunter over to join her.
“Morning, huh?” I say, narrowing my eyes.
