Page 15

Cherry

Goose pimples bloom all over my arms and I rub at them, trying to get warm.

It’s the thing I find most ridiculous about staying in a fancy hotel like this one.

They always set the air-conditioning to just above freezing, when the reason people travel to places like Miami is that they like to be warm.

With a shiver—I’m surprised I don’t see mist coming out of my mouth as I exhale—I exit the lift into the dimly lit lobby, walking straight into a chest. A strong chest. A chest I’d know anywhere.

“Nicky.”

I linger against him for one more microsecond and then step back.

It has been just less than two weeks since I last saw him in person in Saudi Arabia and my retinas have forgotten just how handsome he is.

Like right now, he’s wearing simple black shorts and a blue Under Armour t-shirt, and he looks divine.

“Cherry.”

He takes my arm in a gentle grip, moving me out of the way of the stream of people entering and exiting the lifts. I’d been so focussed on him; I hadn’t noticed them at all.

“How are you?”

I tilt my head to get a better look at him. “I’m good. And you?”

“I’m good.”

And he looks it.

“Seems like I’ve lucked into getting some time with you.”

A flush takes hold of my face. Since our day together in Kyoto, there’s been a vibe shift between us.

Sometimes I think it’s all in my head, but then I read and dissect and agonise over our text message exchanges and it feels like he may be a little jealous of the time I’m spending with Patrick. It also feels like we may be…flirting.

“Where’re you heading?” he asks, changing the subject. I must have been staring off into space for too long, pondering this new dynamic in our relationship, and he’d grown tired of waiting for a response.

Damn. I’ve missed a chance to be flirty in person. Do better next time, Cherry.

“I’m off to a Hurricane Sienna relief centre.”

He tilts his head, and I continue.

“You know Florida, Miami in particular, got hit by a pretty bad hurricane just before Christmas?”

He nods.

“Well, there are still lots of families who don’t have the basics; who had to start from scratch in the aftermath. I want to help them.”

His brow smooths as his gaze softens. “You do things like this at home, don’t you? Volunteering? I remember Matt mentioning you help at the animal shelter.”

My heart lifts at this reminder. Gosh, I love that place.

“Yes. I feel it’s the least I can do. You know? I like to help people who are going through a rough time. ”

His gaze searches mine and I hold in my exhale, not wanting to ruin the moment. We’ve been doing this a lot, just staring at each other, and every time it’s felt like we’re inching towards something. In my dreams, that something is a kiss.

He steps back, popping my fantasy in an instant. “Do you want to take James?”

And so it begins, this dance we’ve been doing. Every time he learns I’ll be out in public on my own (gasp), he offers to send his bodyguard with me. He’s having a hard time understanding that I don’t need protection from anyone.

Except him. And that’s just my silly heart.

To not look like a teenager, I don’t roll my eyes, but I can’t keep a tone out of my voice. “No, Nicky. I don’t need to waste James’s day by watching over little old me. I’ll be fine.”

His eyes narrow and I steal myself for a fight, surprised when, after a long glance, he gives in.

“Okay, be careful.”

“I will.”

He hesitates. “We’ll catch up soon? Get a coffee or something before the race?”

I swallow the giant lump screaming ‘Yes!’ in my throat and nod. He smiles and squeezes my arm before walking away, leaving a trail of heads turning to follow his progress across the lobby. All the female heads, to be specific.

Shaking off the ridiculous gnawing in my chest that feels a lot like jealousy, I head outside and jump into a waiting taxi. My Maps app tells me I have a thirty-minute ride ahead and I lean back against my seat with a sigh.

With my eyes shielded from the morning sun, I gaze out the window and, as so often happens when I have a moment alone with my thoughts, my mind flashes back to that day in Kyoto.

Otherwise known as the best day of my life.

Like seriously, if there was a calendar ranking all the days of my life, this day would be highlighted, circled in red and stamped with a giant love heart. It was that good.

Nicky was the perfect travel buddy (the man is good at everything).

From the moment we arrived at the Kyoto Botanical Gardens, he was willing to do whatever I wanted.

He stood by while I took a billion photos of everything .

And throughout it all, it felt like I was spending the day with Nicky.

My Nicky. Not my boss or my brother’s friend.

It felt like we were forging something new, something that was just our own, and gosh did my mushy heart love every minute.

“This is it.”

I blink back to the present and see that we’ve pulled up in front of a nondescript-looking warehouse. I pay the taxi driver with a thanks and a tip (that’s weird), then head to a large steel door at the entrance. A sad printed sign stuck to the door is the only indication I’m in the right place.

Help 4 Hurricane Relief.

“Hi,” I say to a person lingering just inside the door. She has a clipboard and looks important. “I’m here to volunteer.”

Clipboard lady’s face lights up. “Great! We can use all the help we can get. I’ll get you to sign in over here.”

She walks us over to a large table, introducing herself as Mallory, the person in charge. As I fill in her forms, she fills me in on what needs to get done today.

“We know it’s been months since the hurricane hit and these relief stories are no longer in the news, but these people, the victims, they still need our help.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

She beams at me. “And where’re you from? ”

“Melbourne.”

Head tilt.

“Melbourne, Australia,” I clarify, remembering there’s also a Melbourne, Florida. I clearly don’t sound like I’m from there.

“Well, we appreciate you coming all the way from Down Under to help us out.”

I nod, not explaining that I’ve come here from Down Under, by way of China, Japan, England, Bahrain and Saudi Arabia.

“I’m happy to help.”

She introduces me to an older woman who shows me what I’ll be doing to begin with. “We’re packing essential items into care packages, to send to people who are in need.”

I watch as she fills a medium-sized box with kitchen, pantry and laundry essentials.

She then adds a few non-essentials, like toys and non-perishable treats.

Once done, she seals it and places it in the truck behind her.

The entire process from start to finish takes about fifteen minutes, and I look around at the dozen or so people volunteering today and wonder how much they can get done in a day.

They need more help.

Feeling motivated to get as much done as I can while I’m here, I get to work. I fill box after box with a sense of accomplishment, knowing that there are real people on the other end of this production line.

“Need some help?”

I let go of the box I’m carrying and the contents are saved from landing scattered all over the floor by a strong pair of hands catching it for me.

“Nicky?”

My mind must be playing tricks on me. Have I been craving more time with him so much that I’ve conjured him up out of thin air?

“Where does this go?”

I shake my head and my Nicky mirage doesn’t disappear. He’s still standing in front of me, wearing a backwards cap with a few curls peeking out the sides, and his trademarked smirk.

“Over there.” I point to the truck and marvel at the ease with which he transports the heavy box to its destination.

“What are you doing here?” I ask when he returns to stand next to me. “How did you find me?”

Has he got James out here covertly following me?

“I called Sue.”

“You called Sue?” I repeat.

“Yes, I called Sue, and she told me where to find this place.”

Okay, that’s not so bad. At least poor James hasn’t spent the day tailing me.

I tug on his sleeve to pull him in closer. “That still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here.”

He shrugs. “I have the afternoon off. I’d like to help. And I get to spend time with you, so it’s a win-win for me.”

My heart goes pitter-patter at this declaration, and I pinch the soft spot under my arm to make sure I’m not dreaming.

He came here because he wants to spend time with me.

“That’s great.” I wince at the breathy quality of my voice, ignoring how the smirk grows on his face as he registers it. The man knows when he’s getting to a woman.

It must happen to him all the time.

Ignoring my racing heart, I beam up at him, pulling him in for a hug. His arms go instantly around my back and I waste no time breathing him in. Who knows when my next Nicky hit will be?

“We should get to work.” I’m reluctant to step back and so when his hands don’t drop, I sink into him just a little.

I’m a mere human, after all.

“And who do we have here?”

Nicky groans softly and his hands leave my body.

“Mallory, this is my friend Nicky. He’s here to help, if that’s okay?”

She takes him in, her smile growing as she checks him out. “Honey, with those arms, he can help all day, every day.”

I laugh as Nicky blushes. “He’s handy to have around.”

She fans herself, winking at him with a smile. “I’ll say.”

“I’ll just move some boxes,” Nicky murmurs, turning back to the table behind us.

“Hoo boy, he’s yummy.” Mallory squeezes my arm as we watch him transporting box after box to the truck. With him working here with us, things are going to get done at a much faster rate. “He must really like you to spend a day like today in a dusty old warehouse.”

“Oh no,” I rush to correct her. “We’re just old friends.”

She looks behind me and I follow her gaze. Nicky is talking to someone at the next table, but his eyes are on me.

Sometimes it feels like his eyes are always on me.

“Sure thing, honey. Just friends. Whatever you say.”