Page 87 of The VIP Package

It sounds like Whitney Houston.

The opening notes ofI Will Always Love Youdrift through the open plane door. As the music gets louder, footsteps thud up the steps.

Then a familiar voice rings out.

“Frenulum.”

“Shut up, bird,” says amorefamiliar voice. Ash steps through the door, a bright silver cage gripped in one hand. As his eyes lock with mine, he sets down the cage.

McFly flaps his wings and squawks.“Labia.”

Since I’m wearing panties and I’m five feet away, I doubt he can see up my dress. But I jump to my feet, pressing my legs tight together at the sight of Ash looking sweaty and frazzled and so goddamn handsome.

“Wh—how—” I swallow hard, finding my bearings. “You’re here.” I glance at the bird. “With McFly?”

“I know he’s not a dove, but this is the closest I could get on short notice.”

“A dove?” Has the man lost his mind?

“What you told me the first day we met.” He fishes his phone from a pocket, propping it up in a seat pocket as Whitney wails the first golden notes of the chorus. “You described the proposal you didn’t get. With doves and a boombox and—” He glares at his phone like he’s mad that it isn’t a boombox. “And maybe you were joking, but I heard you, Camille. And I don’t have a ring because it’s nuts to ask you to marry me when we met a week ago. But maybeI’mnuts, because I can tell you right now that I will marry the fuck out of you the moment you give me the word it’s what you want. Because that’s whatIwant. You. Me. I—” He drags a hand through his hair. “I’m not very good at this.”

“Um, you’re doing pretty great.” I stare at the rumple-haired billionaire who has possibly lost his mind. “Are you high?”

Ash takes a step, moving around McFly’s cage. He’s two feet in front of me, but stands there a moment like he’s afraid hemight scare me away. “I’m not high or drunk or even sleep deprived.” He drops to his knees on the airplane’s carpeted floor. “What I am is utterly, completely, insanely in love with you.”

“What?”

Did he just say what I think he did? My eyes start to sting as I stare down at Ash. “I don’t understand.”

“I love you, Camille. That’s what I came here to say.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m here on my knees, begging you to give me another chance. I made an unforgivable mistake by sending you away, and I wish I could go back and undo that. But I can’t rewind time. All I can do is tell you how sorry I am. How I plan to move forward from a healthier place if you’ll give me a chance to start over. To be the man I know I can be for you.”

Tears blur my vision and I blink them back, hard.Holy shit.Is he really saying these things? And does he honestly mean it?

My hands start to tremble, so I tuck them away in the folds of my dress. I speak from the heart, since that’s all I’m equipped to do in this moment. “You hurt me,” I say. “It happens in relationships, and I’d understand if you really didn’t want me. But to cut things off so abruptly, like the last week meant nothing to you, was unnecessarily cruel.”

“I know, and I’m so fucking sorry.” He’s still on the floor, which has to be killing his knees. “And I wish I could promise I’ll never hurt you again, but let’s be honest, here—I’m hardly the poster child for emotional stability. I’m going to make mistakes. But I’m willing to put in the work, Camille. To talk through my trauma and grief and the bullshit I’ve been telling myself about how I could never make you happy. I can and I will, and do you want to know why?”

“Why?” A tear rolls down my cheek. I dash it away with the back of my wrist and look into Ash’s blue eyes.

“Because you deserve to be happy. You deserve doves and love songs if that’s what you want, or unbridled passion in thebedroom or boiler room or the top of the goddamn Eiffel Tower. Whatever you want, wherever you want it, Camille. You deserve someone who recognizes you’re the smartest person in the room and the kindest friend in the world and the best goddamn therapist on the planet.”

My heart thuds so hard that I’m sure it’ll burst. “I don’t know that I’d gothatfar?—”

“I would. I’d go to the ends of the Earth to deserve another shot at what you asked for in that laundry room. What I was too terrified to acknowledge I want, too.” He draws a shuddery breath and I feel something melt in my chest. “I’m ready to show up for you. Now that I’ve had some assistance in removing my head from my posterior, I can promise I’ll do what it takes to be the man you deserve.”

Everything he’s saying sounds good. Amazing, honestly. My lungs ache from holding back sobs of joy and relief.

Meanwhile, my brain replays his words. “Someone pulled your head out of your ass?” I think that’s what he said. “To whom do I owe a debt of gratitude?”

“Logan. And Kora. And Sybil. And—you know what? They only helped me to see what you’ve pointed out plainly for days. I’m allowed to fuck up. People make mistakes and sending you that text was one of my worst. Learning from mistakes is goddamn hard work. Work I’ve never been willing to put in until I met you. You make the work worth doing, Camille.”

Another tear rolls down my cheek. This is almost too good to be true. “You’re saying you want a relationship.” I need to be crystal clear what he’s agreeing to. “That you want to try being together outside the confines of a closed-down sex resort.”

“That’s what I’m saying.” He looks a little relieved that I get it. “I want to be with you, Camille. If you give me a chance, I’ll never let you go again. Unless you tell me that’s what you need. I swear to God, I won’t let you out of my sight for as long as welive.” He frowns. “Except when you go to the bathroom. Or to work. Or out with your friends or?—”

“Ash?”

“Yes?”

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