Beyond These Walls (The Walls Duet #2)(39)

A sly grin adorned his face as I slid down next to him.

“What?” I asked, wondering why he appeared so smug.

“Remember after the third or fourth orgasm, you said something about being so out of breath that your throat was going dry?”

My mind replayed to our time in the tiny airplane bedroom. He’d tasked himself with determining just how many times I could orgasm in a row. After four, I’d moaned and writhed so much that my throat was nearly raw. He still hadn’t shown me mercy.

“Yes,” I replied.

He produced a bottle of water from his jacket and handed it to me as I looked at him with questioning eyes.

“It’s from Brie, our flight attendant. She told me to give it to you.”

Blood rushed up to my cheeks as I contemplated the likelihood of my survival rate if I jumped out of the plane now. I must have sat there too long because Jude finally broke the silence with a boisterous deep laugh.

“I’m kidding. I asked for it before you went into the shower. She’d never do such a thing.”

My breath began to return to normal as I shot laser beams into him with my eyes.

“Even if you were louder than a banshee.”

“So mean,” I said, unable to stop the laughter that was bubbling up.

“So, you forgive me?” he asked, taking my hand in his.

“No.”

“What if I told you to turn your head and look out the window?”

My eyes widened, realizing we’d already begun our initial descent while he had been busy with distracting me. It had probably been his plan all along.

As I whipped my head around, I saw it for the first time.

I still had no idea what it was, but from above, I was already in love.

Covered in snow and ice, it looked like he’d taken us to the North Pole itself. Tiny colored houses dotted the landscape. It was so unlike anything I’d seen in the US.

“Where are we?” I asked, turning back to see him hunched forward, peering out below.

“Iceland.”

“Oh my gosh, Jude!” I hugged him, hating the awkward armrest separating us.

“It’s only our first stop—of many,” he said against my shoulder.

“There’s more?”

“Well, you don’t think I’m keeping you here for three weeks? You’d freeze.”

I laughed a giddy, happy laugh, nearly clapping my hands together like a child, as I leaned forward to watch the scenery grow bigger and bigger. It was someplace I’d never even imagined going.

“Why Iceland?” I asked, looking out at the vast mountains.

“Well, it’s simple really. I used logic when picking all the destinations for this trip. You have your Someday List. You created it and believed that, someday, if you ever got out of the hospital, you’d accomplish all these things to make you normal, and I think we’ve been doing a damn good job of knocking some things off of that list—even if we’ve waned in our attempt recently. But for this trip, I didn’t want you to feel normal. We can go back to finding you a mortgage or flagging down taxis when we get back. There will be nothing normal about this trip. For the next three weeks, we’re going crazy.”

“Starting with a trip to Iceland,” I stated excitedly.

“Yeah. Why not? How many people do you know who have been to Iceland?”

“None.”

“Exactly. Get ready, Lailah. For the next few days, we’re exploring the land of fire and ice.”

Iceland was well named.

As soon as we deplaned, I was slapped in the face with arctic temperatures that New York had yet to reach this winter. It wasn’t nearly as cold as I had assumed based on the snowy scenery I saw when flying in. It reminded me of some of the more chilly nights I’d experienced since moving to the East Coast when temperatures had dropped and our heaters had worked overtime. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if the Midwest was just as cold as it was here.

Note to self: Never move to the Midwest.

Jude and I huddled together as our luggage was pulled from below the plane and transferred to the car taking us to the hotel. We had landed in Reykjavík, the capital of Iceland, but Jude said our hotel was a bit farther down the coast, away from the city.

The driver greeted us with a nod and wave before opening the doors, so we could quickly hop inside. He joined us, sitting in the front and sliding down the partition.

“Hello, welcome to Iceland,” he greeted in his thick Icelandic accent.

“Thank you!” we both responded.

“Sorry for the cold. It’s supposed to warm up tomorrow if you’re wishing to explore.”

“That’s good to hear,” I said, rubbing my mittens together as I wondered what warm meant to Icelanders.

I’d thought Jude had requested Grace to buy the winter gear as a joke to throw me off from the real destination, but it had turned out that I really needed it after all. Now, I wondered about the bikini. Was that a ruse? Or would I need that eventually as well?

Silently, I watched the country pass by as Jude and the driver spoke. I passively listened, hearing their conversation, as the mountains and sea whipped passed my window.

Car rides had been such an infrequent thing for me as a child. I remember spending them with my face glued to the glass, peering out at the world as it whooshed by. At stoplights, I’d see other children, heads down, glued to a portable video game or a book, and I’d wonder why they weren’t as interested in what was going on around them.