Chapter 13
13
E zra
I knew she was going to come out eventually. She’s been building that atrocious thing the whole day without bothering to think about food. When I found ripe coconuts, I knew I should get a few extra and bring them to her hideout. Once the sun sets, hunger will get to her. Somehow, I feel responsible for the woman since I found her body floating in the water facedown.
Or maybe I’m lying. Maybe it happened when I saw her sitting in her pajamas in the coffee shop in my building. Covered in soot and desperation.
I don’t like caring for other living things. The only things I’m responsible for are my company, my mom and brother, and the rest of the legacy we’ve been trying to save. People come and go, but legacy stays.
I don’t do social things. I don’t do people. I like sex just like any other guy does, but sex takes a lot of effort. You need to take a woman out and to chat the whole evening before sex happens. That’s what my brother does, and he’s good at it.
I understand and don’t mind spending any amount of money on a woman. But I do mind spending my valuable time and chatting with someone. Chatting is a total waste of time, and I don’t understand why people put so much meaning into that.
Which brings me to my current problem.
I’m stuck on an island with a woman who always chats. All the time.
When I saw her land on the deck with her ass up in the air, I nearly choked on saliva, thinking there’s no way she would be here, far from the airport and on the same boat. Because of everyone I’ve known in my life, only she would be unlucky enough to make that type of landing.
But when I was done staring at the duck on her ass, I finally was able to shift my attention to her hair. Which is always hard not to notice. The pink of her hair is not exactly pink. It has a light shimmer to it, almost like glitter. The woman is a fucking unicorn.
The next thing that threw me off was my stupid eyes shifting back to the duck. It was hard not to notice it, as it stared at me right from the middle. Did this duck sit on my face?
And when she started jiggling it, trying to get on her feet instead of her face, I couldn’t help my pants growing tighter. My body remembered how those jiggles felt on my lap. And my face.
I groan inwardly, cursing her along with her duck and the damn boat wreck.
With that being mentioned, it’s safe to say I’ll not be having fun stranded on this island for an unknown number of days. I can’t fucking lust after someone I totally hate. She’s been the bane of my existence for the past couple months, and now she’s followed me here. The place where I could actually enjoy some solitude with lavish nature, coconuts, and my hand.
Sighing to the sky and hoping I won’t go insane, I check on my neighbor in a ripped shirt and duck hiding under her black shorts. She is also inexplicably covered in mud now.
All afternoon she’s been struggling to move those branches as if they weigh a ton. Every time she lifts one, she grunts and puffs like she’s moving a mountain. She made a few frequent trips to the waterfall, but I imagine she got thirsty the moment she was back. I’ve been timing her walks, and they couldn’t last more than a few minutes. She’s been rushing back and forth, wasting more energy than she was getting from consuming water. She’s probably exhausted by now. And hungry. Definitely hungry.
As she slowly approaches me—scratch that, not me but the coconuts I’ve placed on the sand by my side—she’s looking more and more sure and dare I say bloodthirsty? Her eyes are trained on the coconuts— those on the sand, sadly —and her little hands are squeezed into funny fists the size of a ladybug. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she would fight me for these coconuts.
I get a little too excited since my sweaty pants are getting a little too tight. Who knew traveling in a dress suit wasn’t the best idea. But in my defense, I never travel for pleasure, only business. To think of it, I don’t even remember vacationing since I’ve become an adult. If ever.
I’m spreading my legs wider, giving some room for my clearly insane dick if it’s getting aroused by the sight of that disaster I’ve come to loathe, and make myself busy with a coconut in my hands.
“May I?” she asks, pointing at the closed ones by my side.
I nod and push one toward her. She takes it in her hands and retreats back to her monstrous shelter that will blow away with the first sign of wind. Once she disappears behind the bushes, the sound of something smashing into something reaches my ears. I could have offered to crack the coconuts, but I want to see her ask. Beg me to. She can do that, I know she can.
She owes me that. If she wasn’t there to use the damn oven, the fire might not have started. But she was. She burned my building, costing millions of dollars by now, a few lost future projects, and possibly the CEO position in my own company. She escaped from the hospital to avoid charges. She landed on my face during the turbulence. She nearly broke my cock in two when she grabbed it like a door handle. I dragged her body from the ocean and breathed life back into her. She was turning blue when I carried her to shore. I didn’t know how long I’d been doing CPR when she came back to life. I was sure I cracked some ribs, but she seems fine. I saved her life. The least she could do is be more grateful. There’re good ways to show gratitude. Some really good ways.
Fuck that. I spread my thighs even wider because apparently something is wrong with me if imagining this woman begging me to crack the coconuts makes me hard as said fuckin’ coconut itself.
I swear to God if I keep thinking the word coconut one more time, I’m going to go insane.
A few minutes later, she comes back out. Her face is red, and her shoulders rise and fall with an alarming speed. She’s like a little raging bull with pink hair and matching cheeks.
The bull marches toward me while I’m drinking the coco… the water from the nut and stops a few steps away with one hand on her hip and the nut in the other.
“How did you open it?” She sounds like she’s forcefully squeezing words through her tightly shut lips .
I look up at her with a raised brow, expecting her to do better. I know she can.
She rolls her eyes and starts tapping her foot on the sand. “How did you crack the coconut?”
I keep looking at her, taking slow sips from my… nut.
She sighs and forces a Cheshire cat smile on her face. “Could you please share with me how you opened the coconut so I can try and do the same?”
I swallow the juice and point at the palm tree next to us. Her eyes follow my finger and then return to me. “What are you saying?”
I lift a corner of my lips, enjoying the sight of her angry face. I never knew it could be so entertaining to anger another human being, but I like seeing her getting the side of the coin she’s been giving me.
She groans loudly, turns around, and walks toward the same bushes she just came from. More banging sounds and a few minutes later, she emerges with the full co… the uncracked nut in her hands and marches toward me with an even more determined look on her face. Her jaw is clamped tight, the muscles in her cheeks moving under her tanned skin, her hips swaying.
Once she reaches me, she drops the coconut on the ground and takes the same pose.
“How did you crack the damn thing?”
I nod toward the palm tree, letting her figure out the rest on her own or learn how to be more polite.
“I tried that. I beat it on the tree, but it doesn’t crack.” Her nostrils flare. She looks funny, like a little angry doll.
“And what do you want from me?” My voice comes out even rougher than usual. It’s rough when I’m in the office, trying to talk to people, but it’s worse when I’m quiet for some time.
“I want you to tell me how to do it.” Her tightly pressed lips remind me of one of the outlets at the back of a computer.
“I just did.”
“No, you didn’t.” She blows the hair out of her face. “You just nodded your big head in the air.”
Inwardly smiling, I ask, “I can open it for you.” Then add thoughtfully, “If you want, of course.”
I don’t know why I can’t just tell her what to do, but somehow, I want her to depend on me for this since she pretends to be so independent otherwise.
“Yes!” she exclaims enthusiastically, and then she adds in a quieter voice, “Please.”
I take two coconuts from the sand and walk into the trees. She follows me. Unfortunately. I’d prefer to keep my little secret for now and hold this information over her head.
“Why are you going over here?” she asks from behind me. “Do you have tools hidden somewhere?”
I send her a murderous look. She should be scared by it like everybody else is. But she’s clearly not everybody else, because she quirks a brow with a silent question I don’t have an answer to. So I secure the first coconut between the roots with the pointy side up, grab a giant stone I found before, and start smashing it on the top to soften the husk. Once it’s thoroughly smashed, I take the coconut and start pulling the husk away.
“Seriously? You gotta do that?” She sits on her knees and watches my movements.
Every single one of them . I show her how to clean coconuts from the husk while she keeps glancing at her fingers which look too delicate to be able to pull a coconut apart. How to find the perfect spot on it to crack it open and smash it on the same rock I used before.
Hearing her swallow, I glance at her and notice her eyes trained not on the food in my hands but at something on my arms. Or is it shoulders?
I look at them, trying to figure out if there’s a huge black widow on them or something, but find nothing. When I look back at her, she’s flushed beneath mud-covered cheeks, and I fear she might have a fever.
Placing one cracked coconut at my feet, I pull the other one apart, trying to preserve as much water as I can. Offering both to her, I wait for her to take them. But she doesn’t. Instead, her big, blue eyes look up at me.
“Are you sure?”
And suddenly, I feel like the biggest ass in the universe. A very rare occurrence for me.
“Yes,” I reply gruffly. “Just take it. I’ll open another one.”
“Okay,” she says in a small voice and takes the halves from my hands. Lifting one of them to her lips, she starts drinking.
I should be cracking another nut, but I’m too busy gawking at her neck swallowing the water she’s drinking. I’ve clearly spent too much time in the sun since this behavior is unusual for me.
Her shoulders are covered in dry mud, there are splotches of the same substance on her face, and yet, I can’t stop staring.
When she’s done, she tries to scoop out the meat with her fingers. A useless task since her fingers are too delicate, so I take it from her and crack it into more pieces. Then I give it back to her, and she accepts it with an even quieter ‘thanks.’ I nod in return and give her another coconut to drink.
She takes it carefully and places it beside her feet. “I’ll save it for later. I don’t know how to open them.”
I sigh, cursing myself. “Just drink it.” My tone is anything but welcoming, but I can’t help it. “I’ll open more for you.”
“Thank you,” she says, drinking one half and saving the other one .
I nod and start walking back to the shelter I’ve made for her, but she calls out.
“Hey. Are you sure you don’t want this one?” She stretches her arm holding a coconut toward me. “You’re bigger. You probably need more energy.”
My eyes move from her hand to her face before I forcefully shake my head and go over to the waterfall. Taking a dip in the ocean sounds like a good idea, but there’s no fuckin’ way I’m going in there at night where weird creatures come out to play.
So I refresh myself in the water, drink as much as I can, and fill two halves of empty coconuts with water for later. By the time I’m back to my shelter, the little thing is sleeping in her newest creation. Her ass is sticking outside since the place is too small for anyone but a child to fit in.
I walk closer to the shore and sit on the sand. No one is around. No one.
But I like it. I like to be alone. I’ve been running like a hamster in a wheel for years, burning myself into nothing, trying to barrel through people to prove to everyone I’m worthy of the company. To prove that father was wrong for not trusting me. I was being so loud that I forgot how to hear myself or anyone else.
I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here, just listening to the sounds of the island. To the whistling of the wind. Crackling of the leaves. Odd, unexpected noises local animals make. Numerous chickens clucking. Why the fuck are they bickering at night? Aren’t they supposed to be sleeping?
The more I listen, the more I understand that the unfamiliar sounds or the lack of the car honks and sirens on busy streets don’t bother me. Throughout the day, I found myself checking my empty pocket for my phone. It’s an old habit, considering I have access to my company with its help, and when I don’t have it, I feel out of control.
I love control. I thrive on it. I love predictability and order. But I don’t remember the last time I let myself just sit and enjoy the present without thinking how to get control over our company back. And by the end of the day, I nearly forgot that I was supposed to have the gadget with me.
I don’t know if anyone will find us. If someone will ever show up. This may be long term. When the storm started, we thought it’d pass, and we’d make it through. But the huge wave came out of nowhere and flipped the tiny boat. The guy could call it a ‘ship’ all he wanted to, but a fact is still a fact—that thing was a small motored boat and wasn’t built for a storm like that. I didn’t even know the area was prone to all this crazy weather.
But the ocean became quiet just as fast as it became violent. When I emerged from the water and finally got enough air to think coherently, there was no boat or anyone else. The fact that I noticed the woman in the water was a miracle itself. Thank fuck for her bright hair and the moon shining right upon it like a theater spotlight. And the next miracle happened when she started breathing again—I don’t even know how long she’d been without oxygen at that point.
Shuddering at the thought that I might have been here alone which suddenly doesn’t sound so appealing, I rise and walk back to my shelter. I built it big enough for the two of us to fit in, but she started making her own, so I didn’t offer for her to join. Big deal.
Glancing her way, I notice that her ass hasn’t moved an inch. She’s probably exhausted. Satisfied that she’s alive—somewhat—I crawl to my shelter and quickly fall asleep.