Page 93 of Stuck in Paradise with You

He holds his arms out wide. ‘Can we hug it out or am I overstepping again? Feel free to tell me it’s too much. I know I can be.’

Shaking my head in amusement, I give him a hug, which ends with mutual awkward back pats.

‘You know, I’m still hoping the ending is a happily ever after, though,’ he says when we separate.

‘Joe,’ I say, my voice low, ominous.

He laughs as he walks away and I watch him head toward the main house.

‘Are you okay?’

Luke’s voice is like a warm blanket folding around me after a very long day.

I turn to face him, to tell him, yes, I’m fine, but when I do, all I can think is, this is the man whose heart isn’t whole, asking a girl, whose heart hasn’t been whole since him, if she’s okay.

Without knowing what I’m trying to express, I step into his chest and welcome his arms closing around me, the feel of his lips on my hair.

‘I’m fine,’ I mumble against his body. ‘Thank you for asking.’

We end up sitting where Joe and I just were, side-by-side, watching the setting of the sun. I feel uncommonly calm. At peace even. Which, given the circumstances, speaks volumes about how stressful my real life is. I don’t think I’ve noticed the level of stress I operate at, or considered the things I could be doing and the places I could be seeing if I wasn’t always working and trying to squeeze in snippets of non-office life around the edges.

Callum is right. There’s got to be something more than that. But it’s taken me being here, in the wildness of this island, thescariness of the storm, and the craziness of the eclectic mix of people I’m surrounded by, to actuallyhearhis words.

I suppose that’s why, after a group dinner (which ended with an all-parties dance-off to Disney tunes), when we’re walking back to our pods, Luke asks me, ‘Would you come back with me? As friends, no funny business.’

‘Friends? No touching, no flirting?’

‘Friends. Just two people who enjoy each other’s company, hanging out.’

I blush, glancing to my feet. ‘Sure, Chalmers. I’ll hang out with you.’

Even by the moon’s light, when I look up, I see his eyes widen and dance in a way that makes me think beingjustfriends with Luke will be tricky. But better than nothing, and all that I’m willing to offer.

40

LUKE

We fell asleep facing each other, our heads on pillows, the thin covers over us. Carrie closed her eyes as she talked about taking a trip around Italy and as she spoke, her pauses for breath between words grew longer, her voice became quieter, until eventually, with her hand still tucked under her cheek, she’d fallen asleep.

I watched her – serene, beautiful – and willed myself to stay awake, to take her in, because I knew that today we might get power back, the airport might reopen, and she might head back to New York without me.Then what?I have no idea. I don’t know if she found being friends last night, getting to know new things about each other from the last seven years, speaking of dreams and aspirations we’ve not spoken of before, as amazing as I did. Simultaneously excruciating because I kept forgetting, in our proximity, in our shared smiles and laughter, in the gazes we held for a beat too long, that I promised her no funny business. No touching, no holding, and definitely noother stuff.

If today does turn out to be our last day together, then I don’t want to spend the entirety of it with other people. We’ll be with others long enough when we boat across to Virgin Gorda to seewhat help we can provide. So this morning, I slipped quietly out of the room, hoping she wouldn’t wake and find me missing, while I went to the main house to grab coffees and a tray of breakfast for two.

Now, I set down my tray on the deck outside my pod, tease the door open, then pick up the tray and move inside.

The sun is up, casting shadows across Carrie’s soft skin, highlighting her eyes that start to flicker. A few of the others are up already and sitting around the dining area in the main house. No one questioned why I was stacking a tray to leave. Either it was obvious, or the obsession with Carrie and me has faded.

Bringing the tray to the bed, I slip off my footwear and sit onto my side, back against the wall, coffee in hand. I wait for that moment when Carrie will open her eyes. When she does, she finds the coffee, the food, then me, and it’s me who gets her biggest grin. That small fact makes me feel ten feet tall.

I’m trying my best not to come on too strong. I’m forcing myself to be a friend if that’s all she’s willing to give me. But my soaring heartrate has nothing to do with caffeine.

‘You brought me breakfast in bed?’ she asks sleepily. Adorably so.

‘Yoghurts, fruit, boiled eggs and bread. You get first dibs because you know I’ll eat anything.’

‘Not true!’ She comes up to sit, her back against the wall in my t-shirt, the bedsheet across her otherwise bare legs. She reaches for her coffee with one hand and points to me with the other. ‘You refused to eat jellied eel in that sushi place we went to for a meeting in Midtown that time.’

‘Oh, come on! Jellied eel? That’s not food.’

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