Page 99 of Raine Out (Grand Slam 2)

Alex

Raine and I were awake most of the night—trying to get in every bit of together time we could before we left the island today. I think I finally drifted off to sleep about four.

Although my flight back to Miami doesn’t leave until this afternoon, I’m awake at seven to make sure she gets on her morning flight. She’s been protesting from the moment she opened her eyes.

“Alex.” She looks up as she continues to stuff her belongings into her suitcase. “You don’t have to go to the airport with me this early. Your plane doesn’t leave until three. Go back to bed.”

“I’m coming with you,” I say, handing her a few pieces of clothing that are hanging in the closet. “I’ll sleep on the plane later.”

“But what are you going to do all day over in St. Thomas? It wouldn’t make sense to come back here on the ferry just in time to catch your ride to the airport.” She tries to zip her suitcase, but it’s too stuffed. “Why don’t you stay here and enjoy the resort for another few hours?”

“I’m going with you. I’ll find something to do over there until my flight leaves.” I pull her away from the suitcase as I try to reposition a few things.

“Wait, is this my T-shirt?” I say, holding it up.

She grabs it and buries it in her suitcase. “Yes, and you’re not getting it back. It smells like you.”

“I smell like me, too,” I say as I hug her. “You’ll get to smell me in January when I visit you.”

“That’s almost three months away,” she says, breaking away from me. She checks in her parrot bag to make sure she has everything. “And that’s if we make it that long.”

“Raine,” I say, pulling her over to me. “You promised. We’re going to talk every day until I get back from Puerto Rico. Then I’ll come out to San Diego to see you.”

“Okay,” she says, looking down.

“Raine.” I pull her chin up. “You promised.”

She nods and tries to zip her suitcase again with no luck. She lets out a huge sigh and leans against the wall.

“Here. I’ll do it. Just make sure you have everything. Our car leaves in ten minutes.”

“My car,” she says, sitting on the bed. “You don’t have to come with me.”

“Really? I had no idea. It’s not like you’ve said that before.”

“I’m too tired for sarcasm, Alex.”

I lift her newly zipped suitcase off the bed. “I promised Butch that I’d get you to the airport. I’m going to keep that promise. I don’t want him coming after me.”

“I won’t tell him.”

“He’ll know. In fact, he’s probably watching us right now,” I say, looking around the room. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he installed cameras before he left.”

“Yeah, he probably did,” she says, finally smiling. “For protective and perverted reasons.”

“Then he’s seen more than enough already,” I say, grabbing her suitcase in one hand and her in the other. “Let’s get out of here before we miss the car.”

“But I don’t want to go,” she whines as I pull her out of her room. “Please don’t make me.”

“If you behave right now, I promise I’ll bring you back down here when you get time off from work.” I keep pushing her reluctant body toward the lobby. “And it will just be us—no more of the spring break vibe.”

As we round the corner into the lobby, Roman makes a beeline over to us. “Raine! Your car’s here. And I didn’t want to let you get away without saying goodbye. I enjoyed working with you on our little mission.”

“Our very little mission,” she says, laughing. “The Case of the Immature Note Writer.”

“You know I’m always available if you need extra, uh, spy help,” Roman says, lowering his voice.

“What exactly is ‘spy help,’ Roman?” She rolls her eyes. “I’m going to pass, but thanks for the offer.”

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