Page 16 of One Week in Paradise
@blue_birdgalso jealous, have fun!
And the last message.
@gail23456862lol. is this one taken too?
The last message makes my heart jump into my throat. I delete it without opening it, and it takes all my strength not to delete the entire story.
This is actually quite tame compared to the messages I got shortly after The Video went viral, but it’s enough to have me doubting this whole plan.
I switch my phone to aeroplane mode and hope the ten hours will be enough to get me out of this mindset.
The plane begins to taxi, slowly picking up momentum as it rolls down the runway. I glance over at Cash. He’s turned away from me as much as the small space will allow.
Seriously? What anass. Does he think I’m going to give him a disease or something?
The plane makes a turn, and Cash squeezes his thighs. He’s gripping them so tightly his hands have gone white, and I’d be willing to bet that there are tiny crescent marks in the fabric of his sweatpants.
The plane jerks slightly as we crawl over an uneven patch on the ground, and Cash inhales sharply.
I realise something that makes me feel awful.
Cash is a nervous flyer.
Suddenly his behaviour back in the airport makes sense. He was probably trying to psyche himself up to board the plane. A wave of sympathy washes over me, and before I can really give it much thought, I put my hand over his.
He stiffens slightly and cracks open an eye.
‘Are you okay?’ I ask.
He closes his eyes again. ‘Mm. I just—’ A deep, shuddery inhale. ‘I hate take-off. Landing too. I’ll be fine once we’re in the air.’
‘Do you need anything?’
‘I’m fine,’ he murmurs. He hasn’t opened his eyes again, but I can feel the tension leaving his body as I squeeze his hand. ‘I promise. Just give me ten minutes.’
‘All right.’
I keep my hand over his, and he doesn’t seem to mind. It doesn’t feel as weird as it should. There’s a warmth emanating from him that is oddly comforting. There are a few callouses, but his hand is surprisingly soft for someonewho works in construction, and before I can help myself, I start to imagine his hands wandering down the length of my body.
I’m not sure where the thought comes from, but I picture his hands ghosting gently down my sides before dipping down past my belly button and slipping under—
‘I think I’m good now.’
Cash’s voice snaps me out of my impromptu fantasy, and I open my eyes. I hadn’t even realised I’d closed them.
We’re in the air now, and Cash looks noticeably less stressed.
‘Thanks,’ he says as he pulls his hand out from underneath mine.
‘No problem,’ I say. And I try not to think about how cold my hand suddenly feels.
The rest of the flight is uneventful. Cash spends most of it sleeping, and I’m left aimlessly scrolling through the in-flight movie selection. I end up watching all threeMagic Mikemovies and treat myself to six hours of Channing Tatum gyrating on stage.
Cash wakes up halfway throughMagic Mike XXLand raises a brow once he notices what’s on my screen. I give him a half-hearted smile, and, to his credit, he doesn’t say anything. I wouldn’t say he’s been the chattiest person duringthe flight, but when the pilot’s voice crackles through the speakers to tell the cabin crew to prepare for landing, Cash suddenly stiffens.
‘It’ll be okay,’ I say gently.
‘I know,’ Cash says through gritted teeth. ‘I know it’s stupid.’
