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We’re sitting with ankles entwined on the huge king-size bed in Jake’s bedroom, our backs against the padded headboard surrounded by a mountain of cushions, watching some action movie playing on his large flat-screen TV. Chinese food tubs are standing all over the bed around us, open and easy to reach for dipping into.
I’m wearing one of his T-shirts after our not-so-clean bubble bath, and he’s in a pair of dark gray sweatpants, his torso naked showcasing his chiseled body and tribal ink perfectly. I have a serious case of ‘my boyfriend’s so hot’ swoons as I watch his muscular arms and shoulders flex and tense as he shovels food into his mouth with the expertise of an avid Chinese food eater. He leans forward with chopsticks full of noodles and pops them in my mouth without waiting to ask if I even want any, his eyes glued to what he’s watching. I’m being obedient and letting him stuff me full of food despite being able to feed myself, amused by Jake’s constant need to tend to me like a mother hen.
Somehow, I like it like this: he looks after me in small ways I would never have guessed him capable of. Feeding me his food seems to be a recurring thing. He feels I’ve never eaten enough and is always trying to cram food in my mouth.
There’s a knock at the bedroom door, which is standing open, and one of his security staff appears, dressed all in black, another nameless person I’ve yet to recognize.
“Mr. Carrero? Daniel Hunter is here to see you,” he states apologetically, averting his eyes as he sees my long, naked legs on top of the sheets and the extremely skimpy shirt covering my body. I’m glad I’d put some underwear on after our bath.
“Send him in,” Jake replies with his mouth full, still not taking his eyes off his movie. He reaches to the end of the bed and yanks up the throw placed neatly there by the housekeeper, pulling it over my bare legs. It makes me smile; he didn’t like that his security guard checked me out. He covers me up while still chewing and watching his godawful film. Jake is a contradiction in many ways, laid-back and confident, yet also a little, green-eyed jealous child who doesn’t like other men looking at me.
The green eyes suit him.
The guard walks away while I make a mental note to learn the names of the almost-invisible staff and make friends with them now that I live here, especially the housekeeper, Nora, who is the master of discretion. I feel ignorant and awkward when I see them in passing. It never bothered me when I was just his PA because they were his staff, and I was staff too. But this is my home now, and I don’t want to be rude.
“All right, bud?” Daniel comes bounding in, pausing momentarily when he sees me but continuing almost flawlessly. “Was going to ask if you fancied a night on the town, but I can see you’re busy with the little woman.” He looks me up and down oddly; I guess he’s trying to figure out why I’m still on the scene. It’s been over a month since the yacht trip he was on with us, and he knows Jake’s attention span for women peaks around four weeks max. I guess he figured Jake would have gotten bored of my company long ago.
“I’m off the booze lately,” Jake says, shrugging, which surprises me. I’d noticed his lack of alcohol on our trip, but he’d never mentioned it was intentional. “And she’s not my little woman; she’s my better half.” He throws Daniel a look that’s hard to translate; they have their own language, these two. It goes hand in hand with the special bromance of Carrero and Hunter.
“Hey, better half.” Daniel salutes me with a smile. He’s an odd one, and our relationship is still in the teething stage.
“Hey,” I smile back genuinely. I never felt at ease with him as Jake’s PA; perhaps I will now that the dynamic has shifted. For Jake’s sake, I want to try to like Hunter and maybe form a mutual friendship now that I’m no longer staff.
Daniel comes to the bed, climbs on the end, and gets comfy before picking up a box. Jake throws him some unopened chopsticks as though granting permission to dig in, and both men sit glued to the movie in silence for a few moments. It’s some loud, all-shooting, all-exploding, macho male thing with a guy who looks a lot like someone who once felt me up in a nightclub in Vegas.
Daniel starts eating, stuffing his mouth, then points at something on the screen. “That asshole still owes me $1500 for that bet in London,” he mumbles.
“Jesus, Danny, tell me you didn’t actually bed that weird chick with the wonky teeth.” Jake drops his chopsticks into the tub of food he’s holding and grimaces, looking at Daniel as though he’s something disgusting. Daniel’s sex life is clearly something that puts Jake off his food.
“A bet’s a bet, Jakey-boy. I just got really drunk, and then she looked doable.” He shrugs and continues eating.
“I thought you had some standards, maybe low ones, but that chick looked like a man in drag with a shitty wig.” Jake turns to me with a look that says, ‘you had to see her.’ He throws a chopstick at Daniel’s head; Daniel ducks too late, and it bounces off the top of his perfect fair skull. He may have a fetish for one-night stands and slutty girls, but he looks like a guy who could get any woman he wants. All blonde and blue-eyed in contrast to Jake’s dark hair and green eyes, as a duo, I’m sure the two of them together must have pulled women for miles.
“I thought Daniel’s standard was porn star. Isn’t that the lowest you can go? A girl who’s paid to let everyone sleep with her while being filmed?” I smirk at Jake with a wicked gleam in my eye.
Daniel frowns up at me.
“Hey! Some of those ladies are the highest paid in the profession, and they’re not prostitutes. I happen to like a girl who can get down and dirty and knows what she’s doing.” He throws the chopstick back at Jake, who bats it away expertly.
“They’re kinda like prostitutes, mate,” Jake smirks.
“Shut up! Totally different. Besides, not so long ago, you weren’t so high and mighty with the standards. Just cos you’re all loved up now doesn’t mean you haven’t ground on a few ….”
“I swear, if you finish that sentence, you’ll regret it,” Jake warns. An instant frost chills the atmosphere between them. For a moment, there’s a cold standoff of glares and eyeball communication. Seems Hunter is just as stubborn as Jake.
“I’d say keep your shirt on, but it’s already AWOL,” Daniel says, breaking the tension with a smirk, and Jake throws another chopstick at his head. I wonder if this is how all men behave in the company of their so-called best friends.
“You’re just jealous that my shirt’s off for Emma and not you,” Jake says with a wink back, lifting an arm and tensing a bicep with a sexy wiggle toward Daniel. I can’t help but admire the bulge; I’ve never actually seen him tense a bicep on purpose, and I almost faint with just how toned and muscular he is when he does it.
Is it okay to swoon over your own boyfriend? I think it is, right?
“Put it away, Carrero. I’ve told you a million times, I’m just not into you.” Daniel seems to be fed up with his choice of food and looks through the extra boxes on the bed for something else.
“Says the guy who crashed my Chinese food party to come to stare at a TV with me. Are you worried I won’t love you anymore now I have Ems?” Jake discards his food and stretches out, leaning back into the sea of cushions behind us. Noticing I have long since discarded mine, he hauls me over to nestle in his arm and lays my head on his shoulder. I stretch out alongside him and snuggle against his body.
“Totally heartbroken over here,” Daniel replies flatly without looking up. Finding something he wants, he settles back down to dig in and watch a particularly bloody scene on the screen.
Both men seem zoned in on the violent and bloodthirsty hero hacking bad guys to bits with a large sword.
I’ve never understood action movies and all that bloodlust.
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