novelxo Passenger Princess: Chapter 22
‘We’re so excited to have you here in Florida!’ the instructor for the snorkeling business we’re highlighting for this stop says. We’re all on a large charter boat, part of a locally owned snorkeling business. With us are a few members of the press, Miss Florida, Anne (unfortunately), Jaime, and me.
‘Today, we’re going to be snorkeling, one of the most popular tourist attractions for coastal Florida. We’re going to see some gorgeous fish and coral today. There should be a few sharks out there, but they’re a docile variety and shouldn’t give us any issue.’
Jaime’s body goes still briefly, and for a split second, I stop watching the instructor and instead turn to look at him, a furrow on my brow.
His face is stoic and on the speaker, not shifting at all, even as I obviously stare at him. The instructor starts to go through measures for what to do if and when you see a shark, how to stay safe, but I’m too busy watching Jaime to pay much attention. His jaw has gone tight, and some of the color has gone from his face.
I lean in and whisper to him. ‘You okay? You look like you saw a ghost. Or a threat.’ A chill runs through me at the thought of a threat being nearby and Jaime being freaked out by it.
‘I don’t like sharks,’ he whispers, and it takes everything in me not to scoff out a laugh.
‘You? You don’t like sharks?’ I whisper.
‘They’re a threat I know nothing about and can’t control other than staying out of the water. What’s there to like about them?’
One thing I’ve learned about Jaime is his undeniable love for all things predictable. I think it’s why I drive him so crazy, why I rub him so wrong most of the time, considering I am the opposite of predictable. I love spontaneity and chaos and flying by the seat of my pants.
I also love fucking with Jaime.
‘They’re pretty,’ I say with a smile, knowing it’s going to annoy him. The rush of a win runs through me when he looks at me with a droll expression, though entertainment lies beneath it.
‘Pretty things can be dangerous,” he says pointedly and I smile.
“Like me? Am I dangerous to you, Jaime?”
Before he can respond, the instructor claps loudly, a wide, jovial smile on his lips. ‘Okay, so who wants to be fitted for a lifejacket first?’
I raise my hand instantly. ‘Me!’
Jaime’s jaw gets somehow tighter, and I wink as I turn back to the instructor before pulling off the cover-up and revealing a one-piece bathing suit with no back and a super low front.
‘Can you take this big guy?’ I ask, handing him the gauzy fabric, then, under my breath, whisper, ‘You should really stop grinding your teeth. Really bad for your teeth.’
When I move to the instructor, I notice he’s a cute-enough-looking guy, but compared to Jaime, he looks small. Normally, he’d probably be my type: flirty, with a good smile and longish, sun-bleached hair, but suddenly, his surfer boy look doesn’t do it for me.
He smiles wide at me before digging through a bin for the right-sized life jacket, and I joke about how they don’t have a pretty one. It’s clear he uses smiles and boyish looks to land tourists, but I’m not falling for it, not as his fingers glide over my arm as he slides the life jacket on or as he buckles it, trying to look into my eyes.
The entire time, I can’t help but look over his shoulder at Jaime, his jaw still tight and arms crossed over his chest. He’s in a pair of olive board shorts and a tight-fitting black tee, his skin already tan, reminding me I didn’t see him put on sunscreen.
‘All right, who’s next?’ the instructor asks, smiling at Anne, clearly coming to terms that his charm is not working on me.
Her hand lifts, and I move, walking on the gently rocking boat back toward Jaime. I slip my flip-flops into my bag, digging for the sunscreen to try and bug him into wearing some, but then a strong tug comes on one of the loose straps of my life jacket, making me stand straight.
‘What—’
‘He did a shit job. I’m tightening these,’ Jaime mumbles under his breath, and then mine catches as he moves to his knees before me, pulling himself face-to-face with my chest. His eyes are locked on the buckles of my life jacket, undoing them and then tugging and manipulating the loose straps so they’ll be more secure. My hands move to his shoulders as I nearly lose my footing when a finger grazes the side of my breast.
‘Sorry.’
I don’t reply because my breath is inexplicably caught in my throat at the mere, slight touch. I joke that Jaime likes me, mostly because I find it hilarious to push his buttons and his definition of ‘professionalism,’ but he’s a handsome man. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t into him, and I didn’t have more than the occasional inappropriate thought drift through my mind.
‘Is this also you not liking me?’ I whisper for his ears only.
He shakes his head but doesn’t look at me, just keeps his eyes on the straps of the life jacket, untwisting them and making sure it’s secure.
‘It’s my job to keep you safe; that’s all I’m doing,’ he says in a low growl. ‘That fucker was too busy staring at your tits to make sure you were strapped into this right.’
‘Mm-hmm,’ I say unconvincingly. ‘Because you don’t like me, right?’
‘Right,’ he growls, then stands abruptly, moving to the bin where the life vests are and grabbing one his size.
‘What are you doing?’ I ask as he comes back, vest in hand.
He tosses it to the seat next to my bag, then reaches behind his back, grabbing his T-shirt and tugging it over his head. My mouth goes dry, seeing the lines and muscle definition everywhere. Jesus Christ, no wonder he has to wake up so early to work out—it must take a century to maintain that. He’s broad, which I knew, but now I see it’s because of muscled shoulders and a strong back, his front dotted with the perfect amount of chest hair.
‘If you’re snorkeling, so am I.’
‘Jaime, you don’t have to—’
‘My only job here is to take care of you and keep you safe, Ava,’ he says, cutting me off. ‘I do have to.’
‘But you’re afraid of sharks.’
His eyes shift to the sky, a move he often does when he’s with me, as if I’m constantly pushing him to a point where he needs a higher power to step in. ‘I’m not afraid of sharks, Ava. I just don’t like unpredictability.’
‘You must hate me, then,’ I say with a small smile.
He stares at me, not even a tilt of his lips, as he reads my face behind dark sunglasses. ‘I’m the furthest thing from hating you, Princess, for better or worse. I think it’s pretty clear.’
It knocks me off my game, confusing and shocking me with his surety and the way it’s the opposite of everything I ever thought about Jaime.
Sure, I fuck with him by telling him he likes me, and sure, I never thought he actually hated me, but it wasn’t like I was under the impression that this was his ideal assignment, driving a beauty queen around the country while she constantly almost gets herself into trouble.
I continue staring at him as the instructor says something I don’t hear, lost in Jaime and what he said, until his thick arm raises, eyes aimed at the instructor behind me.
‘We’ll go first,’ he says, slipping on his life jacket quickly and efficiently before putting a hand on my lower back to turn and guide me to the back of the boat.
The next thing I know, Jaime is standing at the edge of the back of the boat after the instructor gives us each goggles, a snorkel, and a list of instructions. I barely hear, my mind still racing, but Jaime is glued to him as he speaks, taking in everything.
‘All right, you two,’ he says finally. ‘You can either get in gently or jump on in.’ His smile is genuine as he looks at us, and suddenly I remember where I am, the fact that there are cameras, and that we’re about to cross off one of my bucket list items.
‘Jump!’ I shout, and everyone on the boat laughs like it was expected of me to want the more fun version.
Jaime huffs but nods.
‘Whenever you’re ready,’ the tour guide says with a chin tip to Jaime.
‘You first,’ he says under his breath, but I shake my head, my braid grazing my shoulders as I do.
‘Together.’
He looks at me, a slight irritation in his look before he rolls his eyes. ‘Fine.’ Then he looks forward like he’s waiting for my countdown.
I lean infinitesimally to my left toward him. ‘You gotta hold my hand,’ I whisper.
‘What?’
‘Before we jump in. You have to hold my hand.’
He looks at the water and then at me. ‘Why?’
‘I don’t know, it’s what everyone does when they jump off boats.’ He glares at me, and I laugh. ‘You know, holding my hand won’t ruin your professionalism, big guy,’ I tell him.
‘I think I’ve already fucked the professionalism beyond repair,’ he grumbles under his breath. I laugh loudly, and his lips part in a smile he can’t fight.
‘Well, then hold my hand and jump in.’
And he does.