Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
My eyes widen as we walk down the pier where Jackson’s boat is docked. “Um… this isn’t a boat.”
Jackson chuckles. “Pretty sure it is.” Noah doesn’t say a word as he walks past us onto the yacht. “Do you need assistance climbing on?” He reaches for my hand, knowing I don’t need any help. It’s an excuse to touch me. My hand slides into his, and a spark reverberates between us, an electric current that sends shivers down my spine. The tension is undeniable. Dangerous. “After you, Peach,” he says softly, aware Noah may hear.
I step onto the yacht, basking in its beauty. “This is seriously amazing. I’ve never been on a boat this big. Or at all.”
“I’m glad I can be your first.”
I turn, smiling at him. “You’ve been a lot of firsts.” His eyes flash with a need I understand all too well. I’m about to add another wicked comment when a voice interrupts.
“S’up, my friends?” We both look up as Vince walks up the dock and jumps on the boat. My stomach churns, and I instantly wrap my arms around myself.
“Vince, what are you—?”
“I invited him,” Noah states, cutting Jackson off.
Vince walks closer. “Thanks for having me, Mr. Blake.” His eyes fall on mine. “Hey there, Georgia.” He winks at me, sending my stomach into convulsions, then goes down a narrow hallway with Noah.
“Are you okay? Do you get seasick? We can cancel—”
I don’t realize I’m trembling until Jackson's words register. “No. I’m fine.”
“You sure? You’re pale.”
I do my best to shake off the nervousness and slap on a smile. “No, I’m good. Honestly. Probably just hungry.”
“Let’s get my girl something to eat then.” His wink soothes the uneasiness. I waggle my brows, showing him I’m indeed fine. We head down to the lower deck, where trays full of fruits, cheeses, and meats are laid out. My stomach growls. “Is that for the food or something else?”
I cock my head. “Definitely the food. This all looks so fancy.”
“Glad you like it. Eat up. You’ll need your energy.”
I wasn’t sure we’d have any alone time while sailing. The boat is practically the size of my childhood home, so finding a space away from Noah wouldn’t be impossible. I’m just not sure how smart it is.
I make a plate and head to the upper deck. We’ve already set sail. Jackson tells me he has to make a few work calls, so I spend the next hour basking in the peacefulness of the water. My eyes grow heavy and on the verge of closing when a shadow looms over me.
Noah.
“Go away,” I say, closing my eyes.
“We need to talk.”
“We sure as hell don’t. You said enough last night.”
“I was fucking hammered.”
I sit up and push my sunglasses to the top of my head so he can see how serious I am. “I don’t give a shit. That was my final straw. Every single time I give you the benefit of the doubt, you prove me right, and I’m the asshole who should’ve known better. You will never change.”
“I fucked up, Jesus.”
“You always fuck up!” I raise my voice. “You are not a good person. You’re angry and hateful. You hurt people without a single thought of how it affects them.”
“And you’re so fucking innocent?”
“At least I’m not a miserable asshole who lashes out at others because he’s too much of a coward to face his own shit.”
“Fuck you.”
“Not a chance in hell I’d ever touch you again.” He steps toward me, something feral flickering behind his eyes. His jaw clenches, his chest rising and falling like he’s holding back a scream or a punch. That fire behind his gaze is back, the same storm I’ve seen so many times before. “I dare you,” I say, my voice calm and steady. We’ve danced this line more times than I can count. And not once have I ever been afraid of him.
Because I know he won’t hurt me.
But I do see the battle raging behind his eyes—the way he’s barely holding himself together. His fists stay at his sides, twitching. His chest rises fast, too fast, like something inside him is trying to claw its way out.
He closes the distance between us and grabs my cover-up, knuckles whitening with the force of it. But even now, there’s hesitation in him. He’s not trying to scare me. He’s trying not to break.
“What? Are you gonna hit me or something?” I ask softly, meeting his eyes.
And that’s when it flickers—just for a moment. The fury stutters, something else slipping through the cracks. Confusion. Guilt. Fear. Not of me. Of himself.
“I’m—Fuck, I’m sorry, I—” He releases the fabric slowly, hands falling away like the weight of them finally caught up to him.
“Am I interrupting something?” Jackson’s voice breaks the moment.
Noah steps back without looking at his father, eyes still on mine. I don’t see hatred now. Just a man unraveling under the pressure of secrets he won’t share. “Nope,” he mutters, and walks away.