Ras and I are nestled on a pile of blankets between two such stacks, our backs pressed against the wall of the plane. It should be uncomfortable, but somehow, it’s not. In fact, everything feels softer than it should.
The earlier pain I felt in my side has completely faded away. There’s no tension in my muscles, and a comfortable warmth has spread through my body. A smile pulls at my lips. The pallets are painted such pretty colors.
“Ras?” I lace my fingers through his. “I feel kind of weird.”
He pulls me into his chest and presses a kiss to my temple. “It’s the oxy. It’ll go away before we land.”
Oh. I giggle. How did I not realize I was high? “I should have taken just one. You told me to take two.”
“I didn’t want you to feel any pain. The pills the doctor prescribed aren’t a high dose.”
My eyelids drift closed as I snuggle up to him. I don’t think I’ll ever get over how warm he is. A human radiator with the exact perfect temperature.
I slide my fingers under the bottom on his T-shirt and splay my hand over his abs. “I like these,” I mumble, feeling very content.
He chuckles, pulling me closer. “Cazzo, you’re cute like this.”
My nails start tracing circles over his taut stomach, and Ras sucks in a low breath. I’m trying to remember what tattoos he has there. I wish I’d looked at him more the night we slept together.
That was last night.
My brows rise with surprise. It feels like a week has passed given how much has happened since. I think I should be scared right about now, but I’m not. The gravity of what we’re doing hasn’t hit yet.
It’s probably the oxy.
I sigh. When Papà realizes I’m gone, he’ll send his men after me and Ras. I don’t see why he wouldn’t. Although it might be tricker for him to organize all that from jail. I wonder if Rafaele will help him. He might prefer to walk away from this entire mess, but there’s a chance he’ll try to find me. No one knows I left with Ras of my own will, and it’s possible they’ll think he forced me.
But Ras has Damiano to try to smooth things over. They must have worked out some kind of plan when Ras talked to him at the hospital.
What will happen with Rafaele’s succession? Without us getting married, the Garzolos won’t accept him as their don, so the deal must be off.
Unless Rafaele tries to marry Cleo instead of me.
I sit up straighter, a burst of panic flashing through my mind. No, Cleo isn’t a virgin, and everybody knows it. She made sure of that. Papà tried to get her to keep her mouth shut, but she told everyone about the pizza-boy fiasco. That cat is out of the bag, so there’s no way Rafaele would even consider her as an option.
I settle back down against Ras. Rafaele will just have to walk away from the deal and leave Papà to fend for himself.
“You okay?” Ras asks, peering down at me.
“Hmm?”
Ras brushes a strand of hair off my face. “You got all tense for a second.”
Should I tell him? We haven’t even landed in Greece, and I’m already worried. “I was just thinking about what’s going to happen back in New York.”
His expression turns pensive, and he drags his fingers over my face, as if trying to commit the angle of my jaw and the swell of my cheeks to memory.
“Do you remember what you wanted that night after I took you to the diner?” he asks.
I nod, the memory of us in the car fresh in my mind. “I wanted to be with you.”
“You wanted to pretend you were someone else.”
A normal twenty-year-old. “Yeah.”
“Let’s pretend again.” He drags his thumb over my bottom lip. “We’re a couple about to go on a vacation to Greece. No one’s going to contact us because we’re going to turn off our phones so that we can enjoy our time away.”
Another fantasy. I smile. I like how this one sounds.
“So we’re dating?” I ask.
One corner of his mouth rises. “Yeah, we’re fucking dating.”
“Exclusive?”
He arches a brow. “Do I seem like someone who shares?”
“I don’t know, you seem like you could get a little wild,” I say with a smile.
He dips his head to give me a deep, searching kiss. When we break apart, I’m breathless.
“Yeah, wild about you,” he murmurs.
Warmth spreads through my chest. “What are our plans for our vacation?”
“We’re lazy travelers. The absolute worst. Most days we won’t even bother putting on our clothes.”
I laugh. “Do we at least shower?”
“Of course.” He places one hand on my tummy and slides his thumb under the hem of my shirt to touch bare skin. “But we’re environmentally conscious, so we always use the shower at the same time.”
Goosebumps spread over my flesh. “That must save so much water.”
He leans down and presses a slow, wet kiss on the side of my neck. “Heaps.”
I snuggle up to him and imagine our vacation until his warmth and the low hum of the plane eventually lull me to sleep.
Our landing is bumpy and disorienting since there aren’t any windows and we can’t see the outside. When the plane touches down, the crates rattle against their restraints.
Ras keeps a firm hold on me until the plane decelerates, one palm snug around my shoulder, and the other wrapped around my knee.
The oxy’s almost completely worn off by now, and the ache in my ribs is back, but it’s not as bad as it was before.
What hurts more is what the pain reminds me of. The moment I fell to the ground and curled up to protect myself. The shock of Papà’s foot connecting with my body.
Until that moment, some part of me still believed he loved me.
But now that part is dead.
“Where exactly are we?” I ask Ras.
“Heraklion airport.”
“Won’t we have any problems getting off?” I ask as the plane comes to a stop.
“Don’t worry,” he assures me. “Orrin’s got us all set up.”
Despite his reassurances, I’m sweating as we disembark the plane and step out into warm sunshine.
I blink against the bright light. I’ve never been to Greece before. The sea stretches across the horizon ahead of us, so close it feels like it’s only a stone’s throw away from the landing strip. A cruise ship creeps across the surface of the water against the backdrop of a rocky landscape in the far distance. There’s the unmistakable smell of brine in the air.
Ras takes my hand and leads me to a buggy that’s waiting for us. The driver greets him and makes no comment about the fact that we just got off a cargo plane and have no luggage.
I glance down at my ill-fitting Poet’s Café uniform, and I can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
Ras arches a questioning brow.
“I’m going to need some clothes.”
He does a scan of my ridiculous outfit and smirks. “I’ll take you shopping in town.”
The buggy takes us around the airport and drops us off at what seems to be the employee parking lot where we transfer to a car.
It’s all seamless. No one gives us any trouble. No one asks us any questions, not even the airport officials, or the driver.