There was no one else who could elicit such soul-deep pleasure within me because there was only one Corbin. And of course, as the cards life always seemed to deal me, he lived on the other side of the world and had a strong career and life here. And my future had to focus on ensuring my brother was okay, which meant being near him in case he needed something. Like now. I was his pseudo parent and I’d told Mum in the last few days of her life, that I would always make sure we stayed close. An inseparable duo with me in the driver's seat.
I would do what I’d always done. I would get on with things. I would sort Blake’s mess out, get him back on his feet and then I would focus on whatever scraps that left me with. All things I would worry about once I was back in Canada. Alone.
When we finally made it to the airport, I halted Corbin with a hand to his forearm before he too tried to exit the car. I couldn’t do the airport farewell. It would break me and the last thing I wanted was to sob my way through customs and onto my flight.
“Corb-” My voice broke and the tears I was so desperate to hide, pressed forth like little wet traitors. I spoke through my sobs, leaving him with what was probably the most hideous version of myself I could have ever given him, doing my best to express my feelings with no time or processing skills.
“I-I can’t say goodbye in there. I can’t say goodbye to you at all.” Taking a deep breath, I traced his jawline with my fingers before cupping his face. “So, I’m going to kiss you and hug you and breatheyou in. Then I am going to tell you that I love you and I’m so grateful you were with me over the past two months. That I never could have found the strength to do any of it without you. That I wouldn’t have wanted to. That you have always been and will always be every colour of the crayon pack - except Beaver - because who would ever call a crayon that,” I sniffed and he gave me the warm smile I was going to miss so much which only made a fresh wave of tears escape. This was brutal. A heartache I never saw coming.
Using the pads of his thumbs, he brushed my sadness from my face and pulled me into him.
“Canada,” he kissed my lips quickly. “That was the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” his sincerity only made me cry harder. Leaving sucked and his gorgeous face was only making it more difficult.
“But I’m coming with you.” He added and the air left my lungs in one quick gasp.
“Wha-” I couldn’t even finish what I was saying, clearly having misheard. There was no way my terrified of flying, need to have everything planned, workaholic friend was spontaneously getting on an aircraft to fly sixteen hours across the world to deal with what was likely a heap of crap.
“If that’s okay?” He asked and my mind finally caught up with what he said. What he was asking.
“But you don’t have a flight?” My challenge was weak even to my own ears. He’d booked the damn flights, refusing to even discuss how much they cost but I didn’t have the heart to argue. It was difficult enough relinquishing control as it was, if I opened that can, worms were going to fly everywhere.
“Come on,” he opened the door of the truck before retrieving our suitcases from the back. He was standing, waiting patiently and looking gorgeous while I still tried to reconcile what was happening.
“But you’re terrified of flying,” I reminded him, clearly still confused and running on two hours of sleep.
He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving mine. “I think I’m more terrified of letting you go,” he said with a shrug and I felt my eyes widen. This man with his big green eyes and need to plan his life down to a tee. With his permanent scowl and thoughtful, kind heart, was going to get on a plane and come to Canada because he didn’t want to leave me.
I wanted to ask what this meant for us. For now, and for next week, month, year. But I didn’t dare, instead, I threw myself at him, my ugly crying louder as I sobbed my gratitude and relief into his neck.
He was coming with me.
In the spur of the moment, he’d decided to fly halfway across the world, spontaneously, with no set plans or agenda. Everything he hated and with nothing to gain for himself.
Corbin was coming to Canada. On a plane.Which terrified him.
He was confronting his biggest fear, by my side, and for my sake. And that kind of truth hit hard, the kind I was nowhere near ready to process in the chaos of an airport carpark before a painfully long flight.
“I wish we had some of Kenn’s pancakes now,” he mumbled into my hair, eliciting a sudden laugh from me.
“Me too,” I sniffed, tapping his cheek. “Me too.”
Part Two
Corbin
Chapter Ten
Canada
The feel of Shelby gripping my painfully hard dick was the only thing keeping my imminent panic attack at bay – and it had been for the entire sixteen hour and thirteen-minute flight. A flight I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to make no matter how much I wanted to or how hard I tried, but here I was on the tarmac of Toronto Pearson Airport thanks to the woman sitting beside me.
I knew she’d pressed pause on her life to care for Aunty Talia, but I didn’t realise this was something that she did for everyone in her inner circle. That she put the needs of those around her before her own and I now understood her on an entirely different level. She was thirty and had mentioned on numerous occasions she hadn’t considered dating because she couldn’t bring someone else into the unpredictability of her life. Which I’d initially found confusing, given how stable her life appeared – with a steady income, secure living arrangements and her brother living close. Yet, she danced through the world to the same song on repeat just in case she was needed by someone.
The selflessness of her actions was instinctive. There was no other option. When she felt the pull, her support was reflexive, and my chest tightened at the thought that she was holding back from what it wasshetruly wanted to ensure everyone around her had their needs met.
The dark circles under her eyes were just another example. She was desperate for sleep, an exhaustion which was not only physical but emotional. It was evident through the apathetic sighs she didn’t realise I could hear. Or the yawns which interrupted anything she tried to say. But her inherent need to ensure I was okay meant she’d spent the duration of the trip with her hand on my crotch in the longest case of edging known to man.
Of course, just like everything else she did, it was exactly what I never knew I needed and meant I could sit through an international flight – something I never thought I’d be able to do unless under the influence of some kind of prescriptive medication – and arrive in Canada. And for the foreseeable future, that meant I could stay with her which was the other thing keeping me fucking stable in this cylindrical tube of metal.
