CHAPTER108
Breakfast on deck is amazing after the swim: pancakes and syrup with a fruit cocktail. We have a cook on the yacht who’s only too willing to send food our way whenever we beckon. I like this bonus of being with a super-rich guy, being with Jake. Wherever we go, I’m always well fed and never have to cook or clean up. Definitely a perk!
I cast my mind back over yesterday and inwardly hope the next two weeks are not as eventful as our first couple of days here; I may need a vacation to recover from my vacation.
After finishing breakfast, I dig out a book and return to the lounger, trying to put the events all down in one file labeled ‘crazy drunken night’ to stow away in the recesses of my brain. I’m sure most people have those kinds of nights and manage to get past them quickly. It’s what I intend to do.
I don’t expect to see any of the others up at this hour; most of them stayed up long after the chopper left, and I’m not sure when they finally went to bed. It had been a traumatic night for all of us, and Leila was particularly hysterical.
I manage a few pages of my book before my eyes get heavy, and I lay it across my face to shield myself from the sun; a nap would be good, five minutes of shut eye. Exhaustion finally catches up with me, and I don’t need to try and force it as I start to slide away.
I’m vaguely conscious of the fact that the shadowing book on my face has been moved away, but I’m still sleepy and don’t want to open my eyes to be assaulted by the glaring brightness. A warm sensation runs across my cheek, igniting goosebumps, and removes the tickling hair which has been bothering me in the mild breeze. Now that the sun is no longer screened from my eyelids, I’m starting to waken fully and register that my book has been removed. I blink my eyes open groggily and am faced with a dark figure leaning over me, the sun behind his head. I know without focusing, it’s Jake. I can just tell.
“Hey.” He sounds husky, like he’s not long awake.
“Hey.” I sound husky too, except I really have just woken up.
“You shouldn’t sleep in the sun,” he scolds gently, and I blink up at him trying to make out his face, but I can’t.
“I didn’t intend to,” I say, knowing that’s not entirely true. It annoys me that I can’t make out his face, as it’s so cast in darkness in contrast to the blazing circle of light behind him. I squint and pause as he slides his sunglasses on me in a smooth movement.
I smile involuntarily, like I always do when he does this.
Oh, Jake.
“Want to go somewhere?” His voice is uncharacteristically quiet, and he seems to be looking off to the side at something, distracted. It makes my heart expand with a pang; I hate seeing him so deflated, and the urge to fix him wells up inside of me.
“Such as?” I push softly.
He shrugs and tilts his head up, looking away from the direction which first caught his attention to across the water. He’s sitting on the lounger, that’s why he’s towering over me, one arm bridging across my body holding his weight. Present, yet he seems so far away.
“Anywhere but here.” His voice is detached.
I bite my lip. He sounds uptight; maybe I was wrong about Daniel. Maybe he’s not okay, and Jake’s mulling it over.
“How’s Hunter?” I ask gently. I don’t like Jake this way, and he’s making me edgy. He turns back to me and visibly relaxes a little.
“He’s fine. He will be. They just need to monitor him; secondary drowning is a risk when you swallow as much water as he did.” He says it lightly, no untruth in his face, as though he really isn’t worried about Hunter’s recovery, yet his mood is unexplainable. Maybe he’s just tired still.
“Secondary drowning?” I query. I have never heard of it.
“You can drown long after you come out of the water, it’s in your lungs still.” He tenses, and I know he doesn’t want to talk about it. I vaguely remember a conversation where he told me one of his friends, in their teens, drowned after a boat party. I wonder if it still hurts him. The thought makes me long to wrap my arms around him and squeeze it away, take away this somber mood he seems to be in.
“So, where will we go?” I change the subject instead.
“We could drive somewhere.” He’s back to watching the horizon, distant and distracted. I don’t think there’s any chance that he’s going to bring up last night; he seems preoccupied and down.
“Okay.” I just want to get him out of this funk, and maybe going out will do that. I move to sit up, and he gets out of my way steadily.
“Shall I get changed?” I motion at my clothes.
He shakes his head, looking over my floaty dress and sandals with no hint of a facial response, not like him at all.
“No. You look perfect.” His eyes flicker down the length of me again, so I smile and indicate I’m going to put my book in my room, sliding off the lounger and quickly leaving, stressed over his mood."
