By the time I reach the top step, the boat starts moving away from the dock.
“No!”
My whisper-shout is swallowed up by the sound of the motor as I reach the 'back' of the boat. The water churns and swishes behind it, and I lean over, briefly considering jumping in despite not being able to swim. But even just the thought of it has panic rising from the pit of my stomach.
Nope.
Not doing that.
We hit a wave or something, causing the boat to jerk and almost tossing me over the edge. Thankfully, I have a death grip on the railing and hang on for dear life. As soon as it's more steady, I push away from the edge and back up.
The next thing I know, I'm kicking something with the heel of my foot and falling backward onto the ground with a cry.
“Geez. Fuck!” A male's voice comes from somewhere.
I turn my head, still lying on the ground, and sure enough, there's Jacob standing by the wheel. Cap backward. No shirt on. A confused frown on his face.
Within a second, I'm shuffling myself further away from him, and he's cutting the engine and moving to the other side of the wheel.
“What the fuck are you doing on my boat?”
He rubs the back of his neck and glances around as if he's looking for anybody else that might be hiding on here as well.
Don't bother. I think to myself. It's just you and me out here.
“Well?” he prompts when I don't answer.
I go for a half-true answer. “Uh. I was just curious and wanted to check it out.”
The hand rubbing his neck drops down to his side, drawing my attention to his naked torso that's on display. Somehow I knew he'd have ink somewhere on his body. There's some kind of pattern on his forearm, as well as a Valkyrie across his chest – which is well-defined, by the way. I can't help but think of the amount of work that has gone into making such a nice form.
I internally shake my head and berate myself. It's definitely wrong to A) admire hisbody and B) admire his body while in this situation. I pull my eyes away from him and notice the fishing rod perched against the side of the wheel. Clearly, I've interrupted a fishing trip of some sort.
“You were curious?” he asks.
There's irritation in his voice, and I almost want to say, “Look, you think I want to be stuck on here with you? I only came on here because you weren't on here.”
But what I blurt out is, “Were you planning on doing some fishing?”
A muscled arm, the one with the tattoo, reaches up, and he rubs a hand over his face in agitation. “I don't need this shit.”
It's when he eyes the steering wheel and then looks back at me that I realize that he placed it between us and hasn't moved an inch closer. In fact, he almost looks hesitant to do so. That seems kind of weird, doesn't it? Or maybe it's a rule for him now?
“Do you have to stay a certain distance away from women now or something?”
He throws another scowl my way and then moves around the steering wheel to start the engine again, not bothering to reply to me. So, I guess that answers that.
Well, if there ever were a good time to ask him some questions, it would be now before we make it back, while he can't walk away from me.
For some reason, I'm not afraid of him. I can't tell if that's extremely naïve of me or just plain stupid. But I went from being disgusted to intrigued then feeling sorry for him.
I still feel all of those things, but they're all coming together in some kind of confusing mixture that almost has me obsessing over him, needing to understand him.
We're not all that far away from the dock, so I launch into my questions right away.
“So you've lived here for four months?”
Jacob doesn't answer, but he does do a half glance over his shoulder, so I know he heard me.
