She blushes and snatches them out of my hand, shoving them back in her suitcase. She zips it closed and glares at me. “I’m beginning to regret this already,” she growls.
“Never regret lacy panties, Erin,” I tease. “But seriously, I’m just messing with you. This trip will be great. Trust me. We’ll have fun.”
“I’m having trouble believing that,” she retorts, properly facing me for the first time. She peers up at me, her eyes clouded with concern. “Jesus, what happened to you?” she breathes.
I touch my bruised face. I’d almost forgotten, which is surprising, considering how much it fucking hurts. The swelling is much less than what it was. Last night I couldn’t even see out of my left eye.
“Fell off my bike,” I say dismissively.
She rolls her eyes. “Is that why you had to cancel Saturday?” she accuses. “I’ll never understand why people ride those things. They’re a death sentence.”
I shrug and pick up my suitcase. I wish it had been a bike, instead of the three thugs who pounded the shit out of me—two days before they were supposed to.
I’d been just about to leave for Erin’s barbecue when they came out of nowhere and dragged me into the back of their car. They took me to some derelict house over in the western suburbs, where they tied me to a chair and beat me senseless. I told them I had their money, but that didn’t mean shit to them. They’d found out I was leaving town and decided to send me a message, and then took what I owed them.
“So, I must be pretty special that you chose me out of thousands of applicants,” I muse, a grin playing on my lips. My diversion tactics work as she narrows hers eyes at me. I chuckle. She’s just as feisty as I remember.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she snaps. She takes off in the direction of the check-in counter.
I laugh and fall into step beside her.
“You were the best of a mediocre selection pool. At least, I thought you were.”
“Harsh,” I chuckle. “All because I’m having a little bit of fun with you? Or because you feel like you owe me? If you wanted someone to pat you on the back and tell you how brave you are for doing this, then I’m not your guy.”
“I’m not after your praise,” she retorts. Her eyes flash as she faces me. “God, you can be so infuriating sometimes, Cade, and that’s impressive since this is only the third time I’ve met you.”
“Yeah, I have that effect on people,” I joke. “And I can’t be all that bad. I did save your life, remember?”
“Which you keep going on about, even after telling me to forget about it. Funny, I remember you being the reason I fell in that river in the first place,” she replies, glowering at me.
I hand my passport and ticket to the attendant at the desk, and load my bag onto the conveyer belt. She smiles at me as she hands my ticket back, telling me to have a nice trip. I wait to the side for Erin to finish, chuckling to myself as she struggles with her oversized suitcase.
“You could have helped me,” she mutters after she’s done.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t seem like the type of girl to willingly accept help.”
“I accept help when I know I need it.” She sighs and rubs her temples and I wonder if she’s also thinking about that morning by the river. Her flushed cheeks and shallow breathing have me a little worried. “Can we sit down somewhere? I’m feeling a little dizzy.”
I take her arm and lead her to a vacant table at a nearby café. Once I’ve helped her into her seat, I head over to the counter and order a bottle of water, and take it back to the table. She smiles gratefully as I twist the cap and fill her glass.
“Thanks,” she says.
“Can I get you anything else? Do you have a headache? Are you cold?”
“I always have a headache—just sometimes it’s more manageable than others.” She smiles, biting her lip before continuing. “Hey, I’m sorry if I seem a little strung out.”
“A little strung out?” I snort with a grin. “Erin, you’re channelling Hitler.”
“Ugh.” She bows her head. “I know. I’m just really nervous, and when I get nervous I get anxious, and anxiety leads to angry Erin.” She sighs. “It just goes on.”
I laugh and sit down opposite her. She can take things out on me as much as she needs to. Whatever makes her feel even just a little bit better, because all I see is a vulnerable little girl—the part of her she seems desperate to hide.
“Don’t apologize. It’s kind of entertaining, seeing you all worked up.”
“Gee thanks,” I grin.
The conversation stops, and we both sit there awkwardly. I glance around, trying to think of something to say. Apart from her illness, I really don’t know much about her. There must be more to her than that.
“So, tell me a bit about Erin. What’s she like? Family, job, that kind of thing.”
She smiles at me and my heart races. Such a fucking beautiful smile.
“Tell you about Erin?” she giggles, making a face. “Okay, well, let’s see.” She sits back in her chair, running her fingers through her golden waves. “Well, I have a good relationship with my parents. I have one sister. I love pizza and beer, I hate birds and blueberries, and up until a week ago I worked as a consultant for a global sports company.”
“Are you close to your sister? This whole thing must be hard on your parents,” I comment. What a stupid thing to say. Of course it’s going to be hard on her parents.
“You can ask them yourself.” I must look confused because she laughs and nods over my shoulder. I turn around and see a couple who I assume are her parents heading towards our table.
Oh shit. Fuck.
“What’s the matter?” she asks innocently. “They were so excited to meet the guy who is taking their little girl away from them that they insisted on coming to see us off.”
“Nothing,” I mumble. Just the fact that the people paying me to keep an eye on you are standing a few feet away. What if I let something slip? I rub a layer of sweat off the back of my neck and continue my panic attack.
Erin starts laughing so hard that she’s gasping for breath, and it takes me a moment to catch on. “You should see your face,” she grins. “Honestly, I have no idea who those people are. I just thought I’d mess with you.”
“Really? You think that’s funny?” I growl, narrowing my eyes at her.
“Hilarious,” she giggles. “They did actually want to meet you, but you piked out of lunch on Saturday so they missed their chance. But seriously, yes, this is hard on them. Everything about the last couple of years has been hard on them.”
“How long have you been sick for?” I ask. These are questions I’ve wanted to ask since I saw her on the river. Now seems like the right moment.
“Six years, three months, and twenty-seven days.” She looks down at the table. “Not that I’m counting or anything. What about you?” she asks, abruptly changing the subject. “What makes a guy like you take time out to help a girl like me? And don’t try and tell me it’s all about the free trip, because I don’t believe that for a second.”
I shrug. “I just need to get away for a while. Get my life back on track. This is the best way I could see to do that.”
“What’s so bad about your life that it’s fallen off track?”
“I don’t even know where to start,” I chuckle. “Let’s just say I’ve done some things that disappoint even me. Let’s direct this conversation back where it belongs. Where are we going? I assume you’ve planned this trip right down to the very last detail.”
She blushes. “What makes you say that? I’ll have you know I can be very spontaneous and fun.” She glares at me when I snort. “Just because I like to be organized—”
“There’s being organized and then there’s being anal.”
“There is nothing about me that is anal,” she exclaims a little too loudly, catching the attention of an elderly couple at the next table. Her cheeks turn red, making me laugh. “I am not anal,” she
hisses, her tone lower.
“That’s what she said,” I reply.
She looks at me strangely. Bad joke.
“I just mean you seem organized. It wasn’t necessarily an insult, Erin.”
“It sounded like one,” she replies, eyeing me suspiciously. “Yes, I’ve got things planned, but I want to leave room to explore too. We start in Italy, then over to Spain and France. From there, we go back to Italy, with a few weeks unplanned until we fly home.”
“Anything you’re hanging out to see?”
She thinks for a moment. “I’ve always wanted to see the Eiffel Tower. Cliché, I know, but it’s so beautiful and romantic. I’ve dreamt of walking through Paris at night with a cute guy by my side.”
“Glad I can be of service.” I grin.
She blushes and I laugh.
“The tower is cool, but there is plenty more things that are worth seeing.”
“You’ve been before?” she asks, interested.
“We went on lots of holidays when I was a kid. My dad went to lots of conferences, and sometimes we were lucky enough to tag along. I’ve been pretty much everywhere there is to go.”
“Sounds like you had a hard life,” she comments.
I don’t answer. I know she’s only teasing, but her words get under my skin. I’d have traded all the money and material things for my father’s attention, or for a real, brotherly relationship with Noah. We are so close in age, with him fourteen months older at twenty-six, that we should be close. Especially growing up. But our father took care of any chance of that happening when he decided Noah meant more to him. At least now I know why.
I didn’t even call my father or Noah to tell them about this trip. I figured Mum would do that for me. That’s wrong on so many levels. Who leaves the country for two months without saying goodbye to their family? I can just imagine Erin’s reaction if she knew that.
Our flight number is called over the loudspeaker, announcing that our plane is ready to board. I quickly text Mum, letting her know that we’re leaving, then stand up.
“We’d better go,” I mumble, grabbing my hand luggage and swinging it over my shoulder. “Are you okay to walk?”
“I’m fine.” She winces when she stands. I grab her bag with one hand and her arm with the other. She glances at me with a small smile. “Thanks.”
We reach the gate just as the line is beginning to thin out. Erin looks pale, like she’s going to pass out.
“Sit down over there. I’ll wait.”
“No, I’m good,” she replies, insisting that she stand with me. “Seriously, Cade. If I wanted someone analysing my every move, I would’ve brought my sister. Please, for the sake of my sanity, chill out.”
“Okay, I’ll back off, so long as you promise you’ll tell me if you aren’t coping.”
“Deal.” She grins. She links her arm in mine. I’m trying not to notice how flushed her cheeks are, but the medical student in me knows she has a temperature. “I guess this is really happening, huh?”
I chuckle, raising my eyebrows. “It’s taken you to the boarding gate to realise this is real?”
“I guess I’m not used to things playing out the way I want them to.” She shrugs, handing our boarding passes to the gate agent in front of us. She scans them and wishes us a safe flight. We make our way down the corridor, towards the plane. “I’m waiting for something to go wrong, like it always does.”
I smile. Another thing we have in common.
This should be interesting, if nothing else.
Chapter Ten
Cade
Repositioning myself in my cramped seat, I glance over at Erin. She’s asleep, with her head resting on a pillow against the window. Her long blond hair, tangled and unruly from the flight, falls in waves around her shoulders. She looks much more relaxed when she’s sleeping. She stirs and turns her head, her face now inches from mine. Every now and then the tiniest smile passes her lips. What’s she thinking? I wet my lips and swallow, still in awe of how beautiful she is. Just looking at her, you’d never think she was sick, much less dying.
Dying. I like this girl a lot, even in the short time I’ve known her. I want to embrace the friendship I know we could easily have, but I’m wary about letting her get too close. It’s selfish of me, but I can’t handle another tragedy in my life. Not now.
“What did you mean when you said your life was complicated?” she asks, her voice sleepy. Her eyes stay closed, and for a moment I wonder if she’s actually awake.
“I got the girl I’ve been in love with half my life pregnant,” I say.
Fuck. It sounds so much worse saying it aloud. I don’t want to talk about it, but I feel like I have to give her something, considering how open she’s been with me.
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Erin mumbles.
“She doesn’t want to keep it because she’s in love with my brother.”
Her eyes flutter open. The sympathy behind them kills me, because I’ve been pitied all my life. It’s funny, in a non-humorous way. She’s feeling sorry for me when her problems are so much bigger than mine. I should be embarrassed that I’m burdening the poor girl with shit like this.
“Well then, you’re right,” she agrees, nodding her head. “That does sound complicated.”
“That’s barely scratching the surface,” I admit. “Let’s just say getting away for a couple of months can’t hurt my life. I’m kind of hoping things just fix themselves while I’m gone.”
“Trust me, it doesn’t work that way,” she replies. “Running away only exacerbates the problems. If you don’t face them head-on, they’ll fester, and eat you up inside.”
“Aren’t you running away?” I ask lightly.
“You think that’s what I’m doing?” she asks. Hurt flashes through her eyes, which is quickly replaced with anger. “I’m not running away. I’m just putting myself first for once. If anything, I’m doing the opposite of running away.”
“That would be running forward,” I joke. I stop and take a different approach. “Sorry if I’m out of line. Obviously you know yourself better than I do. It just seems to me like you’re avoiding having to deal with how your family is coping with you dying. But, by your own logic, you can’t avoid that forever.”
She’s quiet for a moment, like she’s thinking about what I’m saying. She turns to face me, her expression serious. “You’re right, but there’s an exception to every rule, and the exception to this one is death. Death avoids everything.”
I don’t have a response to that. I guess it does avoid everything.
“Maybe I am avoiding this,” she sighs, “but that doesn’t change the fact that you are doing the same thing, does it?”
“No.” I grin. “I guess we’re both a couple of cowards, running away from their problems.”
“Oh, you did not just call the girl with brain cancer a coward, did you?” she teases. “You’re a monster!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the look of disgust the person next to me gives me and I laugh.
“You’re handling everything much better than I would,” I reply honestly. My smile is replaced with sincerity. She’s the strongest person I’ve ever met, and I feel honoured to be on this trip with her. “You’re inspiring, Erin.”
“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.
Don't Hold Back (Love Hurts Book 4) Page 8