CHAPTER57
He looks alien to me and not like Jake at all.
“You’re really drunk, aren’t you?” Normally drunk Carrero amuses me but there’s something off, and I’m aware of every thump of my heartbeat and my own shallow breathing. The weird tension is making me stiffen, and my body can sense the difference between us.
“I am!” he breathes, but he makes no effort to move away. I take my hand from his arm and wrap my arms around myself protectively in a bid to cover cleavage and exposed body, really unsure now. All I manage to do is create more cleavage, so I loosen my arms again, embarrassed. I don’t recognize this Jake, the heaviness of his voice, the facial expression, the body language, and the darkness of his normally clear green eyes; eyes that most definitely take a long slow look at the aforementioned cleavage. I experience a huge pang of loss for sober, normal Jake right now, as though he’s gone away somehow.
“You cold?” His hand comes up to touch my shoulder and I jump.
Crap.
I’m nervous.
Why? It’s Jake! I’m being stupid. Is it because I’m dressed this way and he’s looking at me like that? Jake would never hurt me in that way.
I’m exposed and self-conscious, and it feels like I’m naked, overly vulnerable. And vulnerable is not something I can do; it’s making me edgy.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to …” His voice is breathy, and he steps back, slightly swaying again.
“No, it’s okay. Sorry, I’m just …”
I’m just what? Jumpy as shit! Freaking out over nothing.
“Just what?” The expression on his face changes to concern, and I realize he does look the same. He’s still in there, my sweet, safe Jake, and I feel stupidly relieved. I can’t control the nervous laughter that bubbles from my throat in a very non-Emma like way.
“Nothing. I’m half asleep; I’m going to bed.” I step back from him with a sudden need for personal space and move to walk around him.
“Emma?” he slurs.
“Yes?”"
