Don't Hold Back (Love Hurts Book 4)

by Missy Johnson

  Click. There is no going back now.

  “Well, I guess now we just wait for his reply.” Calli squeals. She hugs me.

  I hug her back, appreciating her support more than she’ll ever know. I know much of her enthusiasm over all this is for my benefit. That’s just how she is. We’d do anything for each other.

  “I better go. Early meeting with a potential client for a shoot. I think you should get some rest too, Ez. You’re looking—”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m looking tired,” I cut in. I’ve heard it all before. “Thanks for tonight, I actually had a lot of fun.” I get up from the couch and wrap my arms around my baby sister, and kiss her cheek. I follow her over to the door, hugging her one last time before she leaves.

  “Night, Panda. Love you.”

  Locking the door behind her, I fish out my MacBook from my bag. My heart pounds as I make myself comfortable on the couch. I flick open the sent email and re-read it. I click refresh, disappointed that he hasn’t replied yet. Saturday is two whole days away. I can’t wait until then. I click compose and quickly type out another message.

  Better yet, I’m staying at the Tower Hotel tonight. Room 212. I’d love to meet you sooner.

  The moment I hit Send, panic sets in. What the hell am I doing? I just invited him to my hotel room. Here. With me. Alone. What the hell is he going to think? Groaning, I slam my MacBook shut and stretch back out on the sofa. I can’t believe I just did that. I’m about five seconds away from calling reception and asking for a different room when I force myself to calm down.

  He’s not going to turn up at my door, late on a weekday evening, without responding first, because who would do that? Oh, I don’t know, the same kind of person who answers ads like this on Craigslist? Or the kind of person who hangs out at rivers in the middle of the night? I cringe, bury myself deeper into the comfort of the cushions, and close my eyes.

  I wake abruptly, shivering, my body ice cold. With my eyes still adjusting, it takes a second for me to realise that I’m not at home. The hotel. Fumbling next to me on the couch for the remote, I switch off the air conditioning and throw a jacket over my arms. That’s better. I relax, until I remember the last thing I did before I fell asleep.

  Oh, shit.

  I fumble for my laptop. I can’t open it to my email fast enough. As the screen refreshes, I see his reply sitting there, begging to be read. My mouth feels numb as I try to swallow. Why did I send that second email? I click on the reply, and four little words send me into a panic.

  I’m on my way.

  Frantically, I scan the email for the time. He sent it twenty minutes ago.

  I curse again, and then again when I look around me. The place is a mess. If there is one thing I don’t do well, it’s travel tidy. I can’t have him in here—although maybe he should know what he’s getting himself into. Not that we will be sharing a room. I blush at the thought of sharing anything with him. Quickly, I call reception and request they call me when he arrives. I know for a fact the bar of the hotel is open till two a.m., so I’ll take him there.

  “Certainly, ma’am.” The receptionist responds to my request as if he’s been asked it a million times before. I bet he’s seen it all. He probably thinks I’m an escort waiting on a client.

  I hunt through my overnight bag for a clean outfit, secretly thankful that I packed a dress with at least a little bit of sex appeal. I was adamant about not prettying myself up too much for these interviews, because the last thing I needed was the pressure of physical attraction on this trip. And now I’ve all but chosen possibly the sexiest guy I’ve ever seen. If I wasn’t so nervous I’d be laughing at the irony.

  As I wait for the phone to ring, I run my brush through my hair. A few strands break away, enough to make my stomach turn as I pry them away from the brush. I was lucky not to lose my hair during chemo, but the fear that I’d wake up one day and find it all gone never went away.

  There. That’s as good as it’s going to get. I smile, trying to calm myself, but it’s no use. I’m a wreck. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I’ve met with so many people this week that any hesitations about what I’m doing should be long gone. But without even having met Cade yet, I know he’s different because of that morning.

  Calli would kill me if she knew I was doing this without her.

  On one hand, I’m regretting not letting her be here, if only to stop me from saying something stupid, but I know I need to do this on my own. That, and I can’t risk her finding out what happened. Besides, if I can’t get through a drink with the guy, how am I going to handle two months?

  Chapter Six

  Cade

  “Hi, uh, I’m meeting someone in room 212? Erin Camden?”

  The night porter nods and points behind me. “She asked that you meet her in the bar. I will call and let her know you’re here.”

  “Right.” I nod.

  He raises his eyebrows at the medium Coke and tightly wrapped cheeseburger I’m clutching in my hand.

  “Private joke,” I mutter. It seemed funnier on the drive over. I saunter over to the bar, taking a table near the back, and order myself a drink.

  I’m glad that she had the smarts not to just let me into her room. The last thing I need is to worry about her doing something stupid while we’re in the middle of nowhere with each other. I’m nervous, not only because there is a lot riding on this, but also because the last time I saw this girl she ditched me after saving her life.

  “Thanks,” I mutter as the barman places a whiskey in front of me.

  I look up just as she enters the room. Holy shit. Last time I saw her she looked like a mess, but she was still beautiful. I remember seeing her on that riverbank, wondering what could be so bad that she’d be contemplating suicide. Turns out she’s the very reason you shouldn’t judge anyone without knowing their story. Who knows what I’d be feeling if I were in her situation?

  A smile creeps across my mouth as I watch her, because tonight, she’s perfect. The pale blue dress she wears clings to her lean body, dropping just below the knee. She spots me and smiles shyly.

  “Hey,” she says when she reaches me. Her eyes fall on the Coke and cheeseburger and she laughs, her eyes dancing. “I guess I owe you an explanation.”

  “You don’t owe me anything,” I answer honestly. I know better than anyone that things aren’t always as they seem. Besides, I can tell she’s embarrassed about what happened.

  “Not even the three dollars and fifty cents that would’ve cost you?” she asks, her voice light. She slips into the chair opposite me, resting her arms on the tabletop.

  “Times two, since I had to buy it twice.” I grin. “That’s why I’m here, to collect my seven dollars.”

  “Ah, I didn’t ask for it the second time,” she replies. Her eyes twinkle as she holds my gaze, her body language relaxing.

  “That’s something I’ve never heard before from a woman,” I quip.

  Her face reddens. She’s way too easy to mess with.

  “Relax, we’re even.” I push the burger across the table to her. “Want it?”

  “Well I wouldn’t want it to go to waste.” She carefully unwraps it, splitting it in half. “How about we share?”

  I lean over and take half. Our fingers touch and she jumps back. She glances up at me as if to gauge my reaction, so I don’t react. Instead I shove the whole half into my mouth. It’s verging on cold, but a burger is a burger, in any condition. Kind of like pizza. It’s just as good the next day, cold, right out of the fridge.

  “So,” I comment, following up my burger with a swig of whiskey, “from jumping into a river to the trip of a lifetime, huh?”

  “When did you realise it was me?” she asks, her voice quiet. She plays with the bun in her hands, breaking it into tiny pieces. She’s investing way too much energy in deconstructing it to not be affected by seeing me here. I can’t figure out if that’s a good or bad thing.

  “Honestly?” I say. “When you walked in here. I h
ad an inkling when I read your ad, and it grew stronger when your sister called me, but I didn’t know for sure until I saw you. How about you?”

  “When I saw your Facebook photo.”

  “You Facebook stalked me?” I say with interest.

  She blushes again and I laugh.

  “It’s cool. I’m sure you’re not the first.”

  “My sister Facebook stalked you,” she replies, ignoring my chuckles, her tone indignant. “I was simply there when she did.”

  “Uh huh,” I tease.

  “So, is leaving on Sunday going to be a problem for you? What about work, or school, or whatever it is that you do? And do you have a passport?” she asks, diverting the conversation.

  “I’m good.” I shrug. “My job is casual, so no real notice required.” I’ve been lying to the people closest to me for months, so I don’t blink an eye lying to her. With university a no-go now, and no job to speak of, the only thing close to a commitment I have is the one I’m trying to escape from: gambling.

  “What do you do?” she asks, interested. She pops a piece of the burger bun into her mouth.

  “I work in investments,” I lie, though it’s not a huge jump from the truth. Gambling is a form of investing, right? And I never said I was good at my job. “So what made you reply to my email?” I ask. I’m genuinely interested, because as much as her mother said the sister would take care of it, I get the feeling nobody makes this girl do anything she doesn’t want to do. “I’m sure it wasn’t just to apologize for flaking on me?”

  “I never thanked you properly for what you did.”

  The sadness in her eyes makes my stomach turn. Am I really going to profit from this girl’s pain? What kind of man does that make me?

  One that’s no better than my father.

  “I still maintain that it was partly your fault I actually fell in, but what you said afterwards put lots of things in perspective for me. So, thank you for that.”

  “No problem,” I murmur. I’ve never been one to accept gratitude easily—probably because it’s something I’m not often subjected to. I quickly change the subject, like I do whenever conversations become about me. “So what made you decide to do this?”

  “Honestly?” She smiles and pushes a strand of hair from her face. “It was something you said. I don’t know what’s going to happen, and I should be thankful that I have time to do the things I want to do. Not everyone gets that luxury.”

  “I said that?” I grin.

  “Something along those lines,” she replies, her smile growing. “You made me realise that just because I have a time limit, it’s not over. That’s why you’re here. That’s why I want you to come with me, because I feel like you get me.” She takes a deep breath, avoiding my eyes. “I feel like I can trust you.”

  Shit. I’m already betraying that trust and we haven’t even left yet. I don’t reply, because I don’t know what to say. I glance around and realise that they are starting to close up. “Why did you invite me here tonight?” I ask suddenly. “Why not wait till Saturday, like you originally said?”

  “Because I needed to see you. Because I’m too impatient. Because waiting until Saturday on my time is like waiting forever, and because we leave on Sunday.” She pauses, her blue eyes lost in thought. “My cancer is all I think about. Dying is all I think about. I need something to replace those thoughts before I drive myself crazy.” She laughs, her forehead creased in frustration. “Sorry, I feel like I’m not explaining myself very well.”

  “You are,” I cut in softly. I know exactly what she’s feeling because I feel it too, on a much lesser level. “You need a distraction from real life.”

  “I guess I do.” She hesitates before levelling her eyes with mine. “Are you that distraction, Cade?”

  As I stare back at her, all I see is a vulnerable girl who is lost, and I’m about to take advantage of that. I thought this would be easier. I thought I could do this, get my life back on track, and things would be fine. But I wasn’t expecting my conscience to kick in.

  “I can’t do it,” I mutter suddenly. “I’m sorry. I’ve wasted your time.”

  Her head tilts to the side, confusion clouding her eyes. Before she can ask why, I’m on my feet, throwing money on the table to cover the bill. My heart races as I all but run for the exit. I can’t breathe. All I can think about is getting the hell out of there.

  Talk about putting shit into perspective.

  I just spent the last hour talking to a woman who is dying, and suddenly my own issues seem kind of trivial. To make things worse, everything that is wrong in my life I’ve brought on myself. She doesn’t get to choose her outcome.

  Top all that off with the fact that I’m flat-out lying to her and I’m a giant dick.

  I climb into my car and slam the door. My fists close around the steering wheel as I just sit there, feeling the pound of my heart against my chest. I try to shift the uneasy feeling in my stomach. It’s a familiar feeling, one I usually get just before a big gamble. My hands begin to sweat, my heart thumps, and the anxiety that pulsates through me is crippling. Only this time it has nothing to do with winning or losing and everything to do with her.

  Erin. I like her already, which makes this whole thing harder. I pull out my phone, hoping it see a message from Bella, but there’s nothing. My stomach churns. I haven’t heard from her since she told me the news.

  I punch in her number. She answers on the fourth ring.

  “Cade,” she sighs. She sounds half asleep.

  I glance at the clock and wince.

  “It’s after midnight. I can’t talk right now. Besides, I told you I need space.”

  “And I need my best friend back,” I reply, gritting my teeth. “I get this is hard for you, but this is about me too.”

  “You?” she laughs. “You can’t even look after yourself.” Her tone is gentle, but it still cuts deep. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I just mean you have a lot going on right now too. Do you really want to throw a kid into that mix?”

  I don’t have a response, because I know she’s right. I’m not fit to be a parent.

  “Cade.” She hesitates. “I’m back with Noah. We’re going to try and figure out if we can fix our relationship.”

  And there it is. I rub my forehead. If she chooses me and the baby, then any chance of a life with Noah is gone.

  “It’s not about him,” she says, but I’m not sure I believe her. “This is about you and me and the fact that we’re not ready to be parents.”

  “He fucked a stripper in the back of a club, Bella. How many chances are you going to give the guy?” I ask, frustrated. “You’re better off without him.”

  “He’s your brother,” she protests with a laugh.

  “So I know him better than anyone,” I growl. Why can’t she see that she can do better than him?

  “When are you going to let go of this jealousy thing you have going on? He wants to be your friend, you know. He’s always wanted that.”

  “We’ve never been friends, Bella,” I growl. “I doubt that we’re going to start now. What do you want me to do, go over and braid his hair and make cupcakes?”

  “I can’t do this,” she repeats with a soft sigh. “I have to go. Bye, Cade.”

  She hangs up before I can reply. I stare at the phone in my hands, my jaw clenched. I shouldn’t have slept with her. I shouldn’t have gotten her pregnant and I definitely shouldn’t have confessed to her about my gambling. She’s using it against me and there is nothing I can do. Except there is something I can do. I can fix my goddamned mess of a life. I can man up and give Erin the best fucking holiday she could ask for. So what if I’m being paid? Does that really change anything? In a few months, that’s not going to matter.

  I’ve got twenty thousand reasons why I need to do this.

  Chapter Seven

  Erin

  “I don’t understand.” Calli shakes her head.

  I sigh and rock forward in my seat. It’s Friday aft
ernoon and I’m still in shock at what happened the night before. I’m only just filling in Calli, after not being able to get ahold of her all day. God forbid it was an emergency or something.

  “What’s not to get? He’s perfect for this trip and he said no.” Did he meet me just to mess with me? Was that his idea of a joke? Why even reply to my ad in the first place unless it was just some stupid way of getting back at me for bailing on him?

  “Why go to the trouble of meeting with you and then back out?” she asks, echoing my thoughts. “I just don’t get it. And I still can’t believe you invited him to the hotel.”

  “I don’t know, maybe the idea of me dying was too much for him?” I shrug, ignoring her dig at me. It’s the only thing I can think of. But even that doesn’t make sense, because he knew it was me. “Maybe he just wanted closure?”

  “Closure from what?” Calli asks, confused.

  My eyes widen. I said that aloud?

  “I don’t know, from whatever bullshit led him to this.” I feign frustration and wave my hand at her, hoping she doesn’t question me. “Either way, I’m two seconds away from just fucking off this whole trip.”

  Calli opens her mouth to respond, but then closes it. My phone vibrates in my pocket. I fish it out and check the screen, not recognizing the number. I click Open.

  Cade: I’m sorry about earlier. If you still want me, I’d love to come.

  Smiling, I hold up the screen so Calli can see.

  She sighs and falls back against the chair, tucking her legs under her, the relief evident in her eyes. “Whew, I was beginning to panic.”

  “You were starting to panic?” I laugh.

  Calli waves her hand dismissively. “I wonder what changed his mind.”

  “Obviously the free trip part weighs out the dying part,” I chuckle. Secretly, I’m over the moon. I thought we had a connection last night, and this confirms it. “I don’t even care. I’m just glad something is going right.”

  “You should probably text him back if you expect to see him at the airport on Sunday,” Calli points out.