And once again my skin simmers under his hand. I wonder if I’ll ever stop feeling like this from his touch.
A big part of me hopes not.
“Well, I’m glad I did now, if it meant getting a welcome like that,” he grins. He’s being all flirty again.
“I was just hanging around the hotel, so I thought I’d come … sorry I couldn’t come in the airport to meet you … you know,” he shrugs.
“I know.” He’d have probably been recognised and mobbed in ten seconds flat.
It must be pretty hard being a prisoner of your own success. Never able to go anywhere alone.
A simple thing like walking through an airport alone would probably mean the world to him if he was able to do it.
Dave gets in the driver’s seat, turns the engine on and the radio comes to life.
I pull my seat belt on, using one hand, as Jake doesn’t seem willing to let go of my hand.
“How was your flight?” Jake asks, as we start moving out of the airport.
“It was awesome thanks to you – did you know you get free champagne in first class … of course you know …” I peter off at his amused expression.
“You make me laugh.” He squeezes my hand, rubbing his thumb over my skin, continuously leaving a delicious trail wherever it goes.
“In a good way, I hope?”
“Always in a good way.” He turns his head to the side, directing a fixed look at me. I shiver inside, looking away.
We’re quiet for a moment, before Jake says anything more.
“So I spoke to your dad last week.”
“You did!” My face nearly cracks with the smile on it.
His lips quirk up at the corner. “Yeah, he called to thank me for the donation…” He lifts an eyebrow.
“What?!” I say innocently. “You never said it was a secret. You just said you didn’t want him thinking you were a flashy bastard – and he didn’t.” I push my lips out into a pout.
He shakes his head, laughing at my expression.
“So you talked?” I probe.
“We did, it was good to talk to him after all these years. He’s still just the same.”
“You talk music?”
“Of course.” He slides me an amused look. “So I brought something for you,” he says, changing tact.
He reaches into his jean pocket, pulling something back out. I recognise it instantly. It’s the friendship bracelet I made him all those years ago. It’s a little frayed, the white, black and blue fabric faded slightly.
“I can’t believe you actually kept it.” My words come out with my breath.
“You thought I was lying?” He screws his face up.
“No! I’m just surprised … hang-on.” I let go off his hand and reach forward into my bag in the foot-well, unzipping in the inside pocket to I get what I’m looking for.
My friendship bracelet.
I brought mine with me too. I put it in my carry on; I didn’t want it in my suitcase in case it got lost in transit. This bracelet is irreplaceable, so I wanted it safe.
I don’t know why I brought it, we hadn’t arranged to. I guess I just hoped he would have his with him too.
And he has … I can’t believe it.
“I brought mine too,” I say holding my hand out, showing it to him.
Mine is exactly the same as his – in my geekdom I made us matching ones.
He stares down at it, then lifting his eyes to mine, smiles and says, “Great minds.”
My heart is flopping around in my chest like a fish out of water.
“How old were we when you made these?”
“Ten.”
“So they’re like … sixteen years old.”
“Practically antiques,” I smile.
Jake takes hold of my hand and pushes the platinum chainmail bracelet that Will bought me, further up my arm.
He removes my friendship bracelet from my hand, placing it on his leg. Then I watch as he takes his own friendship bracelet and slips it on over my hand and tightens it to fit around my wrist.
Then he picks mine up, loosening it, he puts it his own arm.
I let out the breath I didn’t realise I was holding.
“Don’t ever take it off,” he says, voice deep with meaning.
“Not even to shower?” I swallow down.
“Not even to shower.”
“And you’ll keep yours on?”
“Always.” He takes hold of my hand again.
And my heart leaps out of my chest, then thuds its way back in.
I rest back in the seat. I’m going to have to be so careful. Jake is a naturally tactile person, incredibly sweet, and obviously happy to have me back in his life as his friend again.
I’m going to have to be very careful to not confuse this with him having any feelings for me, in that way. And also to make sure I don’t let my own feelings get confused too.
We talk all the way back to the hotel, and Jake points things out to me, important buildings and sites, as we drive through this amazing city.
Dave parks the car in the hotel lot; we’re staying at the Grand Hotel Stockholm. And grand is how it most certainly looks from the outside.
When we arrive there is a guy waiting for us in the parking lot, seemingly expecting our arrival.