Page 41 of Away We Go

“Yes. I feel it’s the least I can do. You know? I like to help people who are going through a rough time.”

His gaze searches mine and I hold in my exhale, not wanting to ruin the moment. We’ve been doing this a lot, just staring at each other, and every time it’s felt like we’re inching towards something. In my dreams, that something is a kiss.

He steps back, popping my fantasy in an instant. “Do you want to take James?”

And so it begins, this dance we’ve been doing. Every time he learns I’ll be out in public on my own (gasp), he offers to send his bodyguard with me. He’s having a hard time understanding that I don’t need protection from anyone.

Except him. And that’s just my silly heart.

To not look like a teenager, I don’t roll my eyes, but I can’t keep a tone out of my voice. “No, Nicky. I don’t need to waste James’s day by watching over little old me. I’ll be fine.”

His eyes narrow and I steal myself for a fight, surprised when, after a long glance, he gives in.

“Okay, be careful.”

“I will.”

He hesitates. “We’ll catch up soon? Get a coffee or something before the race?”

I swallow the giant lump screaming ‘Yes!’ in my throat and nod. He smiles and squeezes my arm before walking away, leaving a trail of heads turning to follow his progress across the lobby. All thefemaleheads, to be specific.

Shaking off the ridiculous gnawing in my chest that feels a lot like jealousy, I head outside and jump into a waiting taxi. My Maps app tells me I have a thirty-minute ride ahead and I lean back against my seat with a sigh.

With my eyes shielded from the morning sun, I gaze out the window and, as so often happens when I have a moment alone with my thoughts, my mind flashes back to that day in Kyoto. Otherwiseknown as the best day of my life. Like seriously, if there was a calendar ranking all the days of my life, this day would be highlighted, circled in red and stamped with a giant love heart. It was that good.

Nicky was the perfect travel buddy (the man is good at everything). From the moment we arrived at the Kyoto Botanical Gardens, he was willing to do whatever I wanted. He stood by while I took a billion photos ofeverything. And throughout it all, it felt like I was spending the day with Nicky. My Nicky. Not my boss or my brother’s friend. It felt like we were forging something new, something that was just our own, and gosh did my mushy heart love every minute.

“This is it.”

I blink back to the present and see that we’ve pulled up in front of a nondescript-looking warehouse. I pay the taxi driver with a thanks and a tip (that’s weird), then head to a large steel door at the entrance. A sad printed sign stuck to the door is the only indication I’m in the right place.

Help 4 Hurricane Relief.

“Hi,” I say to a person lingering just inside the door. She has a clipboard and looks important. “I’m here to volunteer.”

Clipboard lady’s face lights up. “Great! We can use all the help we can get. I’ll get you to sign in over here.”

She walks us over to a large table, introducing herself as Mallory, the person in charge. As I fill in her forms, she fills me in on what needs to get done today.

“We know it’s been months since the hurricane hit and these relief stories are no longer in the news, but these people, the victims, they still need our help.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

She beams at me. “And where’re you from?”

“Melbourne.”

Head tilt.

“Melbourne, Australia,” I clarify, remembering there’s also a Melbourne, Florida. I clearly don’t sound like I’m from there.

“Well, we appreciate you coming all the way from Down Under to help us out.”

I nod, not explaining that I’ve come here from Down Under, by way of China, Japan, England, Bahrain and Saudi Arabia.

“I’m happy to help.”

She introduces me to an older woman who shows me what I’ll be doing to begin with. “We’re packing essential items into care packages, to send to people who are in need.”

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