The Carrero Effect - Falling for the Boss (Billionaire CEO)

Chapter 63

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 lay it across my face to shield myself from the sun; a nap would be good. Five minutes of shut eye. Exhaustion finally catching 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 cover on my face has been slid 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 my sunscreen has been taken from me, I’m starting to waken fully and register that my book has been removed. I blink my eyes open groggily, faced with a dark figure leaning over me, the sun behind its head. I know without focusing it’s Jake. I can just tell.

“Hey,” he sounds husky, like he’s not long woken up.

“Hey.” So do I, 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 know that’s not entirely true; truth be told, I didn’t think about it. 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 at the smooth movement as he slides his sunglasses on for me.

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 unravels 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 across my body holding his weight, so he can look down at me directly. 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 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. 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 him at all. Nôvel(D)rama.Org's content.

“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 and quickly leaving. Stressed over his mood.

* * *

I check my reflection noting I’ve caught the sun majorly during my time here. I’m glowing and tanned. My hair has developed some new light highlights among my chemical ones, which catch the light, giving me a blonder look. I grab my bag and chuck in the normal essentials; cell, book, sun cream, sunglasses, despite Jake’s being on the dresser. I put them back on my face instead of my own, I like having them on as a reminder of how well he takes care of me.

I’m ready and I meet him back on deck quickly. Now I can see him standing and not cast in shadow; he’s in jeans and a T-shirt, with that superman body, his hair is still damp. He’s had a shower or been for a swim before he woke me. He appears relaxed and casual, as usual. I’m always in awe of the way his clothes sculpt his powerful body, it should be illegal to look that good in everyday wear.

He smiles as I close the gap between us, he automatically ruffles my hair, lingering to twirl a strand before he makes me follow him down to the lower floor behind him silently. He seems in a better mood already as we head to the back of the boat where a small speed boat is anchored ready and waiting.

* * *

He’s as good at driving the low grumbling sports car his father keeps ashore for mainland visits as he is the speedboat; effortlessly confident and capable, and it’s kind of seductive. Seeing a man capable of driving an expensive, powerful machine is a turn on. He drives fast, but I don’t feel unsafe; he molds to the curves and the roads like a pro, while I’m left to ogle the surroundings in awe. The scenery is breathtaking, and we don’t talk much as music blares from the speakers, wind in my hair from the open roof.

We don’t need to talk, we long ago mastered this companionable silence through forced proximity and I’m glad of it now. Scatterings of meaningless small talk and mostly quiet. I glance at his profile and watch the concentration etched on his face, he’s too handsome to be real sometimes.

I can’t help but linger on his mouth and get lost for a moment in the memory of how his kiss had felt last night, of how it had made me feel. Allowing myself the brief memories before guilt and shame push them away. He glances my way, catches my eye and smiles, all soft and relaxed and I can’t help but return it shyly. Sometimes he just looks so young, welcoming, and I forget that he’s my boss. That this is beyond complicated and could never work.

We still haven’t spoken about last night and I’m not sure I want to; in fact, I don’t. I want to forget it happened, forget what it felt like and act like everything is the same. I need this job, I need my mental faculties to deal with this job, and I feel that going to bed with Jake would probably have altered that for an eternity. He’s watching the road again, so I relax back in my seat, sighing. This is so not simple at all and I ponder.

My friendship, career, fear of being used and hurt.

Just fear.

My inability to let a man in or trust fully… There’s no simple solution when it comes to Jake and me. He’s the poster child for casual sex, and commitment phobia. Complicating everything last night with drunkenness was stupid. I try and focus out on the scenery to clear my mind and not dwell on this, but he hasn’t even told me where we’re going.

“So, are we literally just driving then?” I ask brightly; he’s uber focused on the road and giving off a weird vibe.

“Nope.” He’s obviously still in that weird mood. Preoccupied and tetchy, monosyllabic despite seeming okay at first.

“No clues?” I try, irritation rising. I hate vagueness and surprises. Jake doesn’t do vague very often and when he does, I really don’t like it.

“None!”

Hmmm.

“How do you know I’ll like it?” I try a different approach, shoving down the surge of annoyance in the pit of my stomach to coax answers. He only shrugs.

For God’s sake, why is he being so … So pissy and closed off?

“It’s not fun is it?” There’s a tightness to his voice, but he’s keeping his focus steady on the road still.

“What?” I snap back around, catching his face turned to me for a second, his eyes narrowed, he looks minorly pissed off.