*Isabella's POV*
"I work out," he said, by way of explanation, making me roll my eyes. Of course he does.
"From 5:30 am in the morning, I know," I retorted, my voice laced with a familiar sarcasm. "I was thinking..." I was saying, wanting to talk about last night, about the "making love" and the softness, when he cut the thought short.
"We have some hiking to do and then fly back home," he said, rolling out of bed. The shift was immediate. The CEO was back, schedules and plans.
"Yeah, we do," I sighed. We most definitely do. Those same eyes that had watched me with something close to adoration last night were now so cold, so fucking business-like.
"I'm gonna take a shower," he said, standing up, completely unbothered, stark naked near the bed before walking into the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
After he was done, I took my own shower, letting the hot water wash away the lingering awkwardness. I put on a knitted sweater dress, pulling on some black stockings and a pair of knee-high boots that I knew complimented the dress nicely. I looked at my reflection in the mirror.
Yep. Not awkward at all.
The hike is... exhausting to say the fucking least. My lungs are burning with every breath I take, and my legs feel like they're made of jelly. A thin sheen of sweat covers my skin, and I can feel the dust from the trail clinging to me. Damien, of course, looks like he's just been for a gentle fucking stroll. Not a hair out of place.
"Are you okay, Isabella?" he asks, turning back to look at me, a hint of a smirk on his lips. The bastard.
"I should definitely work out more," I sigh, leaning against a rock to catch my breath.
"More?" he asks, that smirk growing wider. "I've never seen you work out."
"Yeah, yeah," I pant, waving a dismissive hand. "I don't have the time. You know, with work and..." I was saying when he cuts me off, finishing my sentence for me.
"Work and school, I know. You're a broken record. Wake up at 5:30 like I do," he said, not even breaking a sweat as he continued up the trail.
"But I sleep so little as it is. I'd be a fucking zombie," I countered.
"You'll get used to it in a week," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"Yeah, I don't know. It's not worth it," I sighed.
"Your body will thank you. You'll feel better and live longer," he countered.
"Yeah, sleep is more important," I retorted, and he rolled his eyes.
"I'm not gonna argue with you," he said, stopping.
"Then don't. I'm using enough energy as it is," I countered, coming to a halt beside him. Yeah, so much for not awkward.
"Damien, can we talk?" I said, my voice suddenly nervous.
"You clearly implied talking makes you tired," he said, not even turning around.
"I'm serious. I want to talk about last night," I countered, my voice a little firmer.
"What about last night?" he asked, finally turning to me, his expression unreadable
"You know... I asked you to... and we, I..." I stuttered, my face flushing.
"Yes?" he nodded, his face a mask of indifference.
"We had a moment, you can't deny it," I retorted, my frustration bubbling.
"I'm not denying it. You asked me to make love to you," he said, his tone so dismissive it shut me up completely. I've never felt more uneasy in my whole life. Disappointment washed over me, cold and sharp.
"Do you need me to carry you? We need to get to the..." he started, changing the subject back to the hike as if our conversation meant nothing.
"Can't you just call a helicopter here?" I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm, making him chuckle.
After a few more metres of walking and a couple of soul-crushing hours on his plane, we finally made it home. The second I was through that front door, I went upstairs, my shoulder slumped in defeat. I walked into my bedroom and threw myself face down on the bed with a loud fucking groan. I was still listening to my tired, aching body when my phone rang. Jacob was calling on FaceTime.
I answered, his face brightening up my phone screen. "Hi, doll," he greeted, waving at me.
"Hi, Jacob," I greeted back, managing a weak smile.
"So, where were you two this weekend?" he asked, his voice full of its usual easy-going curiosity.
"The Grand Canyon," I replied.
"The Grand Canyon? Really?" he exclaimed in genuine surprise.
"Yeah," I giggled.
"How come?" he asked.
"We were on a date," I replied, and the words felt both strange and right.
"A four-hour flight just to go on a date. My brother stole all my moves," he said with a dramatic sigh that made me chuckle.
"When did you..." I was asking when he cut me off. "You're diverging doll. Did you two plan the date?"
"No, I knew we were going by plane, but I didn't know we were going to the Grand Canyon and that we were to fly over it," I said.
"And did you?" he asked.
"Did we what?" I countered.
"Fly over. Oh my God, you're killing me," he said, rolling his eyes.
"We did," I replied.
"In his jet?" he asked.
"No, a helicopter," I replied.
"What kind?" he pressed.
"Jacob, you're exhausting me. A normal one, I don't know. The kind that tourists take, I guess," I said, making him roll his eyes again.
"That's so lame. Next time, you'll be the one that flies it," he said with a smirk.
"what?"
"I have my own helicopter, you know. And I also fly it. I'll take you there," he said, a smug, showing-off grin spreading across his face. "You can hold my stick the whole time," he added, waggling his eyebrows in a way that was so fucking ridiculous it was kind of charming.
"Jacob!" I exclaimed, but I couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up.
"Kidding, sweetheart. It's called a cyclic," he said, "and I can teach you if you want."
"I don't know," I sighed, suddenly feeling a weird flutter of nerves. The idea of being in control of something that powerful, with him... it was a lot.
"You're scared," he asked, his eyes twinkling with that knowing look that always got under my skin.
"I'm not," I countered, a little too quickly.
"Admit it. You're not as tough as you want to seem," he said, his voice soft but teasing.
"This has nothing to do with being tough. Argg. And for the record, I'm the toughest in the room," I said, dramatically.
"Of course you are. You're the only one in the room," he said, and we both burst out laughing, the sound easy and comfortable. It felt good. It felt normal.
"Okay," I said, wiping a tear of laughter from my eye. "Maybe one day I'll let you teach me."
His face lit up into a wider, genuine smile. "That's my girl," he said, before blowing me a big, sloppy kiss through the screen.