Chapter Ten #3
Clearly, I’m having a moment because staring and lusting after a popstar who is used to models and beautiful actresses as his dates when I’m but a lowly randomer is definitely not a helpful use of my time. Albeit a decent distraction.
He turns just in time to stare at me as I realise what I’m doing, and heat rushes up my neck and into my cheeks. Honestly. What am I? A schoolgirl? A rampant Just4Summer fan? Absolutely not.
“Sara?” he asks, blinking.
“Hmm.”
“Did you hear what I said?”
“I did. We could walk.”
He nods. “An hour and a half. It’s two now. When did you say the cut off is?”
I look away, my breathing a bit heavy. I swipe a bug off my clammy skin and clear my throat. “Four.”
“Then this could work. We’ll have thirty minutes to spare.” He jumps to his feet, holding out a hand for me to take. “Let’s go. God knows how long it’ll take to sort the coach. There’s no time to spare. Let’s get you back on that luxury cruise.”
I let him pull me up but don’t immediately race off. Well, because… “I’m in a dress and strappy sandals. You’re hardly dressed much better. And, well, I don’t know. It feels risky.”
He twists his lips, considering. “If you’d rather wait, then we’ll wait.”
But I long for the luxury cabin with the air conditioning and large walk-in shower.
I’m desperate to change into new clothes and wash my hair properly.
I have a face mask waiting for me on my dressing table.
And I can’t do another night sharing a room with Popstar, especially as I’m already embarrassing myself.
I bite my bottom lip and groan. “Ugh. No. You’re right. I’ll suck up the blisters. Come on.”
Ten minutes later we realise this was a terrible idea.
The road along the coastline is not designed for walking.
Cars rush by, beeping their horns, drivers throwing their hands up at us out of the window because they had to suspend a few seconds of their brain capacity to overtake us without running us over.
Poor souls. As they pass, the wind blows dust and sand everywhere.
Thankfully, we have sunglasses on to protect our eyes, but my sweaty skin is now layered with dust too and my mouth tastes like I’ve been chewing dried mud.
Good. Fine. Whatever.
Gus pulls out his phone now and again, especially when we reach a layby or a safer section of the road, to look for better routes. But there’s nothing. It’s an hour on this road, then we’re near enough to the city for footpaths all the way up to the port.
“I’ve already got a blister,” Gus informs me up ahead.
“You beat me.”
“I don’t think getting a blister first is a prize I wanted to win.”
“You think we made a bad choice?” I ask.
“Nah. We need to get you back, so, we’ll get you back.”
“Oh. I have plasters if you want one?” I bloody knew they’d come in handy!
“No. Let’s just keep going.”
We navigate the busy road, trying not to become roadkill and taking occasional breaks for foot resting. I can already feel my ankles swelling. Sometimes they do this in the heat, so adding intense walking into the mix, almost definitely won’t help. There’s a reason I don’t run anywhere.
We’re about thirty-five minutes into our gruelling hike when a louder horn blares for us to move out the way.
Before I know what’s going on, I find myself pinned against Gus, as he uses his own large torso as a human shield, pressing me against the cliff edge, wrapping around the road.
I can feel my heartbeat pulsing in my neck.
I can’t tell if it’s from the adrenaline of nearly being hit by a massive vehicle or because he’s holding me like some kind of furious alpha cowboy from one of Hattie’s smutty romance novels.
It whooshes past us, the skirt of my dress rustling around Gus’s legs.
He softens his hold once it’s passed and looks me over, his face so close to mine I have to swallow to right myself. “Are you ok?”
“Fine,” I squeak, which… Sara, you need to get a grip. I clear my throat and step fully out of his hold. “I’m fine. That was a totally unnecessary reaction. I was fine. I had loads of room. And… oh no.” I stare wide eyed at the road ahead of us.
“What?” is his breathless reply, hands on his hips.
I point. “Is that our bloody coach?!”
Gus stares in that direction now too, his lips falling apart in disbelief.
“You’re joking.” He takes off sprinting, waving his arms like they might see him and stop for us.
He looks incredibly gallant chasing after the bus, it’s actually kind of sexy.
Again, I think about Hattie’s fictional cowboy boyfriends she frequently updates me on.
I need an ice-cold drink and a fan. Maybe a dip in the sea.
I blame the heat. Yeah. Must be that.
“Gus!” I yell at his retreating figure. “They’re not coming back. It’s no use.”
Ok and now I’m starting to sound like a damsel in distress. It’s the corner for me as soon as I’m back on that damn boat. Time out for at least a solid twenty minutes until I sound like myself again.
He evidently agrees as he stops, dropping his arms at his sides. “Fuck!”
I take this pause to pull the t-shirt off and stuff it back in my bag, adding a plaster to my heels and offering Gus one too, who once again refuses.