The Do-Over (The Miles High Club #4)(77)

The backpackers’ hostel is packed to the rafters with new travelers. The sound of laughter is echoing down the halls, and the distinct smell of body odor lingers in the air.

I’m in my room collecting a few things, and Christopher is holding the door open as he waits for me. “This place is a fucking hole,” he murmurs as he looks down the corridor.

A guy walks down the hall toward the bathroom and looks Christopher up and down. “What’s your fucking problem?” Christopher says.

The guy grunts and keeps walking past.

“Rude prick,” Christopher huffs.

I smile and quickly make my bed.

“Seriously, our days of backpacking are nearly over,” he says to me.

“Yeah, well . . .” I pull the sheet up. “Where else can we afford?”

He rolls his lips, unimpressed. “Somewhere better than this, I’m fucking sure of it.”

The sound of drunk men screaming laughter from the bar echoes down the hall, and Christopher shakes his head, disgusted. “I hate that Eddie has to work here.”

“Eddie loves his job,” I reply, distracted.

“But does he? He’s fourteen and being forced to work to support his grandmother; that’s not a childhood.”

“Also . . . not for you to judge.”

“Hmm.” He glances at his watch. “He starts in two hours. Hopefully those drunk fuckers are gone by then.”

“If not, we can hang around until they leave,” I reply, knowing he’ll be worried all night if we don’t.

“Okay.” He nods.

“Why don’t you call him and ask him to come to the beach with us?” I say.

“Yeah?” He smiles, surprised. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“Why would I mind? I love Eddie too.”

“Okay.” He walks out into the corridor to call him, and I look around the shitty room. Christopher is right. I think it is nearly time for a change in scenery.



We wait on the curb, sitting on our bikes. “Here he comes.” Christopher waves excitedly.

Eddie laughs and walks down to meet us, his NY cap firmly in place. “The fuck you doing, man?”

“Language,” Christopher says. He takes off his helmet and passes it to Eddie. “Get on.”

“Huh?” Eddie hangs on to the helmet as he looks the bike over. “What do you mean?”

“Get on my handlebars. I’m driving us to the beach.”

Eddie’s eyes flick to meet mine. “Can he drive this thing?”

“Not really. I suggest the helmet.”

Eddie chuckles and puts the helmet on over the top of his cap. He sits on top of Christopher’s handlebars. His skinny legs are bunched up.

Christopher pushes off and wobbles at the extra weight, and Eddie laughs. “Faster,” he cries.

“I’m not a fucking donkey,” Christopher calls.

“I beg to differ,” I call.

Christopher’s eyes flick over to me at the double meaning.

“You’re a weak donkey,” Eddie cries into the wind. “Faster. Go faster.”

“I’ll give you a weak donkey.” Christopher stands and starts to power pedal. Eddie laughs out loud, and I pedal hard and try to keep up.

This is the most fun I’ve had in forever.



We stagger down the street arm in arm. It’s past midnight, and we are on our way to our hotel. We’ve had the best day. We went to the beach with Eddie this afternoon, and Christopher threw us around in the sea for hours.

We went back to our hotel and then went out to dinner and had another night of drinking fancy drinks in exotic bars.

“Oh my god, we have spent so much money,” I say as we walk.

“Who cares,” Christopher replies. “Stop worrying about fucking money.”

“You’ll be worrying about money in the morning,” I remind him.

“I’m doing this bar course, and then I’m going to get a great job, and then we can afford somewhere better to stay.” He frowns and then mouths the word we.

I hold him in my arm just that little bit tighter. He’s done so well since he came back.

Not one freak-out. He’s ready for this . . . for us.

It’s obvious.

We turn the corner, and there’s a bunch of buskers on the street. There’s a band with drums and a saxophone. Such a cool vibe. People are gathering around, and as we walk up, Christopher takes me into his arms and begins to dance. He twirls me around, and I hold my arm up in a dramatic fashion. He tips his head back and laughs out loud.

The band gets excited that we are dancing and begins to play louder dance music, and a few other couples begin to dance. Christopher is throwing me around, and we are laughing and having the best time. He pushes me out and pulls me back to him with a thud. He spins me and spins me and then holds me close. I look up at his beautiful face, so handsome and carefree.

“Today was the best day I’ve ever had,” he says softly.

My eyes search his, and I kiss his big perfect lips. I want to blurt out that it was my best day, and that every day in his arms is like a dream come true.

That . . . I love him.

But I won’t, because then . . . he will freak out.

“Can we go home now?” I whisper. I want to show him what he means to me, even if I can’t say it out loud.