CHAPTER106
I’m grasping the rail with white knuckles and leaning over, scanning the dark sea frantically. The ship’s crew is out on a small boat searching the water, and Jake has dived in and has already swum back twice. I’m hysterical about the fact he’s this drunk, yet swimming to find his friend in an almost pitch-black ocean. Watching the water with fear gripping my throat, I hold my breath with every dive he takes, willing them to find Daniel, so Jake will get out of the water. I’ve never been so terrified in my life; I can barely move.
“He’s here, Mr. Carrero,” yells one of the crew from the boat; I spin towards them as flashlights illuminate the hauling of a lifeless body into it under the moonlight.
Oh my god.
* * *
I’m sitting in my room, and I’m tired and cold; I haven’t slept. Last night was hell. Daniel was airlifted to a hospital on the mainland. He’s okay, but it gave all of us a huge scare. The atmosphere left behind is silent and tense.
Jake has been gone most of the night, and I’m left reeling from what happened, churning it over and over: the drama of thinking Jake was going to drown every time he dove under, of was how drunk he was and how terrified I was of losing him, counting the seconds until I would see him surface again, and the terror whenever he went back down, then of Jake giving CPR to Daniel, his coughing up tons of water and coming around.
Then there was the craziness when he left in a flurry of paramedics, the helicopter turbulence hovering over the yacht; I barely got to say two words to Jake or even check how he was, and it was agony.
Finally, there’s what we were doing when Vincent raised the alarm that Hunter was in the water, what Jake and I had been doing, where that had been leading, and just how far down that road to having sex with him I had been! I can’t bear thinking about it. How stupid I was!
I’m sobering up, and it’s hard to digest how close I came to ruining all of this.
How could I contemplate even doing it?
I need to get off this boat and put some distance between us. I need to claw some perspective back and sort my head out. This is getting ridiculous, my inability to separate my hormones from rational thought when I’m in his proximity. I did this! I’m the one who made a move and kissed him when we were both clearly drunk; I’m the one who initiated it. Hunter maybe did a dumb thing and almost got himself killed, but he inadvertently stopped me from making the biggest mistake of my life. Jake doesn’t look at sex as any big deal, but I do. I’ve only slept with two people in my life, and that was years ago when I was pushed into it.
He would have been able to brush it off as a drunken night, but would I?
I have a feeling that would kill me more than being fired.
What’s wrong with me?
I get up and head to the main deck in a bid to stop torturing myself. In the early morning sun, it’s warm but not overly so, and I’m still wearing last night’s dress. I like the fact it still smells of him, soothing me, and right now I need it while I miss him so much. I can’t stop obsessing over him, how he is, when he’s coming back. This is exactly why I need to get my head together, this kind of stupid thinking. I’m seriously losing it over my boss. It was my inability to touch him when he came out of the water, to stop and check he was okay, that has left me pacing and restless.
I lay down on a double sun lounger on deck, sinking into the softness of the cushioned mattress; the sun has warmed it enough to give me some much-needed heat. I’m beyond exhausted; fatigue washes over me leaving me feeling detached and cast adrift.
Why haven’t I slept?
I know why. Jake left with Daniel, wet with ruffled hair, in sweats and a T-shirt, a towel around his shoulders. He looked primal, devastated. I have never really understood the bond between him and Daniel Hunter, but it exists. They’re like oil and water, yet they really are best friends. I guess, in his past, he was more like Hunter than I want to admit, but I’m glad Jake is nothing like him now.
I doze finally, warmed by the rising sun and listening to the soft lapping waves, until the noise of a boat returning across the water makes me glance up, startling me from the first stages of slumber as my heart rate elevates.
Is it? Oh my god, it’s them. He’s coming back.
My heart lurches painfully, and I’m suddenly shy and afraid, despite my longing to see him back and safe.
We kissed last night. I mean, we properly kissed, a two-way, no objections, ‘taking it further than just a moment of madness’ kind of kiss. A real make-out session.
I’ve never been kissed like that, before Jake. I have never really been kissed by someone who I wanted to have kiss me. I never wanted to be kissed, yet with him it’s like an instinctive urge. I almost lost control. I never knew that a man could ignite such a flame with something so simple.
Do I get up and greet him, or do I stay here and hope he bypasses me?
I don’t want him to bypass me. I don’t know if I want to face him either. I’m shy, ashamed, embarrassed, and uneasy. He’ll be sober now, and so am I. I have lost all bravado.
What will he say? What will he think about last night?
I am still as I listen to him get on the yacht, sensitive to every tiny noise and movement. His low voice as he quietly converses with the crew, even that simple sound, makes my heart pound through my chest wildly. The engine thrums as the little taxi boat moves away. I swear my heart is going to explode through my chest and, for a second, I waver, wondering if he will even come up here or head straight to his room. I wonder if he’s thought about what we were doing last night at all, if he even remembers."
