Page 25

Nicky

“You’re coming with me.”

The command is out of my mouth before my brain can think better of it, and by the heat creeping up Cherry’s neck, I know I’ve said the wrong thing.

“Why can’t I go with the team?”

It’s a fair question and one I don’t have a suitable answer for. All I know is that ever since she’s been sick, I’ve wanted— needed —to keep her close. And it’s most likely smothering her.

“You can sleep on the private plane. Get your rest.” There. That sounds reasonable.

“It’s a day flight. Why would I need to sleep?”

Gosh, she’s infuriating. Asking all these reasonable questions.

I crouch down on the floor next to where she’s packing her suitcase.

When I’d first found out she was planning on going to the Montreal race, I’d been very unhappy, to put it mildly.

It’s like she’d learnt nothing from the Madrid debacle when she’d turned up ready to work…

while battling pneumonia. And sure, she can argue it was almost pneumonia, but when I’d gotten that update from the team doctor, I’d almost lost it.

It was a miracle I’d got second place in that race, what with my thoughts stuck on the worst-case scenario, envisioning Cherry ending up alone in a hospital somewhere.

“Look.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and pray for patience. “I know you want to come this weekend—”

“We’ve been through this,” she grits out through clenched teeth.

I put my hand up to stop her incoming rant. “Yes, I know. I think we need to be extra careful and make sure you get enough rest. We don’t want a relapse.”

“Who’s this ‘we’?” she mutters under her breath, throwing her clothes into her suitcase with more force than necessary.

“We, as in you and me. I need you to be healthy. I need you to be okay.”

Something in my voice catches her attention and she stops her aggressive packing to stare up at me.

“Fine,” she whispers. “I’ll come with you.”

I smother a grin, not risking poking the bear—such a cute little bear—and rise to standing. A quick exit is necessary to avoid her changing her mind.

“Let’s meet downstairs when you’re done here.”

“Sleeping on a ten-hour day flight. So ridiculous…” she mutters as I leave the room.

My smile breaks free and I leave her to her annoyance at my over-protective/overbearing nature. These are both words she’s thrown at me in the two weeks she’s been in my home and under my watchful eye. I don’t mind what she calls me; as long as she’s no longer on death’s door.

The image of a pale, sickly Cherry is one I won’t shake for a long time.

I head downstairs, texting Sue with the new flight details as I go. That Cherry was going to fly with the rest of the team is ludicrous, when I have a plane pretty much all to myself.

My phone vibrates in my hand, and expecting a response from my trusty PA Sue, I jolt when I see Matt’s name flash across my screen.

“Hey, man,” I answer, wiping my sweaty palm on the front of my jeans.

I’ve called and texted with my best friend many times since the start of the season, but ever since the rumour mill kicked up about me and his sister, I’ve been reluctant to speak to him.

He assures me he knows it’s all fiction, but given how real my feelings have become, I feel like a liar whenever he’s reassuring me of this.

“Hey, how’s Cherry?”

Matt’s voice has the same concern in it that I’m feeling. I’ve been keeping him and their parents up to date with how she’s doing, and I know they’re relieved she’s out of the woods.

“Better. Good.”

I enter my study and with my phone tucked between my shoulder and my ear, I pack my hand luggage.

“That’s good to hear. She’s been telling me she’s fine; but funnily enough, I don’t believe her. She could have the bubonic plague and would be telling us it’s just a sniffle.”

A laugh wrenches from me. The little minx used the ‘I’m fine’ line on me back in Imola. “Yeah, well, I’ve been keeping a close eye on her. She’s good.”

A long silence greets this, and I play back my words in my head. “I mean, not that I’ve been watching her or spending too much time with her or anything like that…”

My friend cuts me off with a laugh of his own. “Chill, man. I know you guys are just friends.”

There’s that word again .

Friends.

“Right.”

Another silence lingers, longer this time, and I scramble to fill it. “She’s going to Montreal this weekend. But don’t worry, I’ve made sure she’s well enough to travel.”

“I trust you, man. I know you’ll look after her.”

His words land heavily in my stomach long after we’ve said our goodbyes. Matt is more than a best friend to me. He’s like my brother. He’s the one person in the world who has never let me down and has always had my back. He trusts me with Cherry, and how do I repay him?

By falling for his little sister.

“Such a schmuck,” I mutter.

“What was that?”

I whip around to see Cherry standing in the doorway. She’s thinner than she was a month ago, her cheekbones more prominent in her face. There are shadows under her eyes and her skin is a shade paler than normal.

She’s beautiful.

“Hmm? Nothing.” I turn away from her and grind my molars to get myself in check. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes.” She pauses. “Nicky. I’m good. I promise.”

I bite down on my urge to argue with her, to ask her again to stay home and rest. From the look of determination on her face, I know any argument would be futile. “Let’s get going.”

The car ride to the airport is quiet, broken only by Cherry’s conversation with James. Over the past months, they’ve developed a solid friendship between them, and I’m pretty sure if it ever came to it, he’d take a job with her over me any day and twice on Sunday.

“Here.” She reaches across me to hand something to James where he sits up front, and I suck in a breath at the contact. I’ve been keeping my distance since I almost kissed her on that bench in Imola and, like a man deprived, my body is craving the touch of her skin on mine.

My bodyguard turns to look at us, oblivious to my inner turmoil, a delighted smile lighting his face. “For me?”

“They’re jellybeans,” she explains as he stares at the bag in his hand. “I got them from a handmade lolly shop in town. They’re a mix of crazy fruity flavours.”

We watch him sift through the bag before popping a jellybean in his mouth with a giggle—that’s right, an actual giggle comes out of the big, powerful man—and I can only stare open-mouthed in response.

James came to me ex-military. He’s a giant, tatted-up soldier who takes crap from nobody.

And he apparently loves lollies and giggles like a school kid.

“It tastes just like passionfruit.”

Cherry nods and settles back into her seat with a satisfied sigh.

“That was nice,” I tell her.

James chooses another jellybean and yells, “Watermelon!”

“It was nothing,” she says.

“It was something. You noticed what makes him happy and you gave it to him. It’s not nothing.”

This gets her attention. She stares up at me, her eyes searching mine, and I hurry to clear what I’m feeling for her from my face.

It’s a losing battle.

“Are we almost there?” she says, changing the subject, and the relief I should be feeling when she doesn’t push or probe me for more isn’t there. Part of me wants her to want more from me.

I glance out through the front windscreen. “We’re here now.”

Our driver pulls up on the tarmac, right next to the plane, and she jiggles in her seat next to me, pressing her nose up against the window. “It’s just like the movies. ”

“I guess it is.”

I motion for her to leave the car as our luggage is unloaded from the back and once standing, she bounces up and down, staring at the stairs up to the plane like she can’t wait to get up there.

No longer resisting travelling with me now, are you, Miss Cherry?

“Wow!” she breathes when we enter the plane. “It’s just like the one they take on Real Housewives of Beverly Hills .”

She is so cute.

“Do I want to know what that is?” I murmur into her ear.

She gapes up at me. “Yes. You. Do.”

I laugh and motion to the chairs around us. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Cherry twirls on the spot, taking in the plush interior around her, the beige leather seats, the bar along one side, with a long couch along the other.

“I swear this is the exact plane the ladies of RHOBH took to Aspen. Gosh, that was a great season,” she chatters like an excited chipmunk.

I want to hug her.

“Mr Dimitrios. Miss Brenner. Can I offer you a drink?”

We turn in unison. “Hi, Justine,” I greet the air hostess who often travels with us. “I’m fine for now.”

She turns to Cherry, who shakes her head. “Um, maybe later.”

She nods and wanders away from us.

“Have you noticed she looks just like Princess Jasmine? From Aladdin ? She’s gorgeous.”

My eyes bounce between the two women before settling back on the one who always has all my attention. She stays looking at Justine with a star-struck expression for another minute, before plonking herself down on the nearest seat. I check my watch and sit down next to her.

“This is pretty special.” She waves her hand around us. “Why don’t you always fly this way?”

I scrunch my nose. “I try not to do it too often. The carbon footprint these flights leave is huge. I only do this when there’s a really long flight…or if there are other reasons.”

She doesn’t need to know that she’s the reason for it this time.

“That makes sense,” she nods. “Is there anyone else joining us?”

As if on cue, three people clamour onboard. Paul, Jack and Frieda. We’ve all travelled together on this plane many times, so they are missing the private plane novice glow Cherry is currently sporting.

“Hi, Nicky,” Frieda calls out as she takes a spot on the couch, a champagne glass already in her hand.

I nod at her, noting with a wry smile her power suit and fabulous shoulder pads.

“Oh, hi, Cherry,” Frieda adds. “I didn’t know you were joining us.”