Chapter 11
Kayla Allen from Aurora, Indiana – Jack
M y eyelids flutter open, and I groan as I glance over at the clock. 2:17 in the morning. Only a couple hours past midnight.
I can’t remember my dream, but by the way I’m sweating, I know it wasn’t a good one. My sleep has been restless lately.
For a moment, I lay in the bed, trying to decide if I want to attempt sleep for a few more hours.
“Enough,” I mutter to myself, pushing back the covers and sliding out of bed. A cool breeze brushes against my damp skin, sending shivers down my spine. I need some fresh air. Maybe that will do me some good.
After rising to my feet, I grab a pair of lounge pants hanging over a chair, and pull them on, not bothering with a shirt. The yacht sways gently beneath my feet as I make my way out onto the deck, immediately enveloped in the salty scent of the ocean. There’s something soothing about the waves crashing against the side of the boat, and for a moment, I find solace in their rhythmic dance.
As I lean against the railing, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I hear footsteps approaching behind me. My muscles tense, and I turn around, agitated. Can’t I have just a second to myself? Is that too much to ask for?
“Who’s there?” I demand. The footsteps stop, and for a moment, all I hear is the sound of the wind and the waves.
But I eventually turn my head to see a pretty, blonde woman standing before me. The reflection of the moon shines brightly in her green eyes.
“Kayla?” I frown, trying to comprehend what she’s doing here. “What are you doing here so late?”
“Jack, relax,” she says, holding a Thermos up in her hands. “I figured you might need this.”
I grimace. “What is it?”
Grinning, she explains, “My father’s special sleep elixir.”
“Sleep—” I then raise my nose in the air. “How did you know I was having trouble sleeping?”
She shrugs before putting it back down and glaring at it, smiling, and then meeting my gaze again.
“Please, just trust me. I promise it isn’t poison or anything.” She lets out the cutest giggle and snort. When she realizes what she’s done, she looks embarrassed and touches her right fingers to her nose.
In this moment, I want nothing more than to engulf her in my arms, pull her close to my chest, and tell her just how adorable the little grunting noise was. But I cannot.
You can never touch her. You must never touch her. Reminding myself of this, the hands at my side extend out before balling up again.
“Anyway.” She holds the jug up again. “Can I pour you a glass?”
I’m about to say no when I realize that it won’t hurt. Of course, I also desire more time with her… as much as I don’t want to admit that to myself or anyone else.
“Sure,” I agree.
Kayla grins. “Great.”
I go into my bathroom and get a cup off the counter.
“Is this big enough?” I ask after sitting down at my desk.
“Oh, yeah. You don’t need much.”
She is still standing, and I look up at her slowly. “You’re scaring me a bit, Miss…”
I realize I don’t know her last name.
“Miss—” I prompt her again.
“Allen.”
“Kayla Allen.” Kayla Allen from Aurora, Indiana. It sounds even better this way.
“Indeed. And you’re Jack Shelley.”
“That I am.”
She nods before focusing her attention on the paper cup on the desk. She picks it up after unscrewing the cap and pours a very oddly smelling liquid into it.
I take it into my hands and look inside. “And what is this?”
“Just try it then I’ll tell you.”
I’m skeptical, but I eventually sludge it down my throat. It tastes horrible.
“I know, it’s disgusting. But it works.”
I show her the empty cup. “Will you tell me what it is now?” I then cough and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
She folds her arms and leans against the wall. “A concoction of tart cherry juice, warm milk, and peppermint and chamomile tea.”
Knowing what I drank makes my stomach turn even more. However, the effects are quick. My eyelids are heavier within a few minutes.
I put my arm up and rest my head in my hand.
She chuckles. “Told you. I’ll leave you to sleep, Mr. Shelley.”
I want to tell her not to leave, but I hardly have the energy. Instead, after she walked out and shut the door, I sauntered over to my bed and tipped over.
The next morning, I wake up as refreshed as ever.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” The magic… juice that Kayla gave me really did the trick. Sitting up, I stretch and yawn before staring at the rushing water from the window.
Then, I hear a few light knocks on the door.
In the hopes that it’s Kayla again, I smooth my hair down and check my breath. It isn’t great. But it will do for now—just so long as she doesn’t get too close.
However, it is Denver who walks in after I say that he can.
“Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning.”
He has his hands behind his back at first, but then he reveals a Thermos similar to the one Kayla had last night.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Kayla, one of the stewards—”
I interrupt him. “I know who she is.”
He pauses before saying, “Right. Well, she asked me to bring this for you. A special sleep elixir, I believe.”
I smile. “Thank you.”
“Shall I just put it on the nightstand?”
I glance over. “Yes, please.”
When he sets it down, I see her handwritten instructions to keep it chilled at approximately thirty-four degrees and then reheat for two minutes right before bedtime.
“About all of that,” Denver says nervously, swinging his body from one side to the other.
I’m confused. “About what?”
He looks around like what I’d just said is crazy. “Well—that she came into your room at all.”
My eyebrows furrow. “What on earth do you mean?” I didn’t have any issue with it. If anything, I enjoyed it. And the nasty stuff she had me drink worked well.
“It was pretty bold of her to come in and start a conversation with you.”
“Bold?”
“Yes, sir. We’re told not to engage in such talk with you.”
“By whom?”
“… Captain Bryant.”
After that, I know I have to get up. I flip the covers off, get a clean shirt from my dresser, and I go into the bridge.
“Wesley.” I rarely call him by his first name, so he definitely takes notice.
“Jack?”
He releases the steering wheel and lets one of his assistants to take over.
I lead him over to the corner of the room.
“It has come to my attention that you are telling employees that they are not allowed to talk to me.”
“Well—yes, sir.” He readjusts his hat. “You told me…”
Granted, it isn’t completely crazy that he’d think I would desire such a warning. But when it comes to Kayla, I don’t want her to have reason or pause to come talk to me—god help me.
I sigh and say, “Please don’t do that in the future.”
He opens his mouth to say something else, but I keep going.
“Sure, I do not want anyone bothering me for needless things. But Kayla, she brought me something to help me sleep.” I grab the bridge of my nose and squeeze. “Although I have no idea how she knew I needed such help in the first place.”
He then flicks his mustache. “Okay, I apologize. I thought I was doing right by you.”
I pat him on the shoulder. “I know. And I do appreciate that. But I don’t want anyone on this ship to fear me.” Truth is, I don’t want her to.
Oh, god. I know I’m falling into old traps. I know it, but I can’t stop myself either.
“Jack?” Bryant says like it wasn’t the first time he tried to get my attention.
Shaking my head clear, I excuse myself.
It doesn’t help that she just so happens to walk past. Her light hair bouncing up and down in a ponytail as she walks.
When she notices me, she stops, grins sweetly, and waves.
I raise my hand but then put it back down and look away.
Jesus Christ. I lean against a nearby surface and rub at my lips. I’m in trouble.