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punkshort · 4 months ago

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Swept Away | Chapter 4: Tropical Heat

Pairing: sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: The first day on Glenn's yacht is much more dramatic than you originally expect.

Chapter Warnings: language, slow burn, sugar daddy/baby vibes, food and alcohol consumption, intoxication, reader gets drunk and snippy, mentions of past infidelity, flirting, sexual tension, jealousy, one tiny daddy reference, nausea/vomiting, joel gets mean but he makes up for it (he sucks at feelings)

WC: 8.5K

Series Masterlist

"I'm so excited for tomorrow. Glenn's yacht is supposed to be massive. Like, full crew, multiple levels. The type you'd usually charter but he actually owns it." Zoe sighed dreamily next to you at the hotel salon. You were listening but your eyes were pinned on your nails, watching as the technician managed to make your hands look like they were out of a catalogue in less than an hour.

"Yeah, that - it sounds really cool," you replied. "Should be fun. Joel said there's some tiny islands we might check out or something."

Zoe nodded excitedly. "Zach said there's one called Monu Island. We're supposed to have dinner there the first night."

"Dinner? How?" you asked. She looked at you like you had two heads.

"The crew brings the stuff to shore for us and cooks?" she said as if she were explaining how to ride a bike. Shit. You probably should have known something like that if you were pretending to be in the upper, upper class.

"Oh, yeah, I knew that," you said with a nervous laugh, "I meant how are they going to get us off that yacht? The more I keep hearing about it, the harder it's going to be to pull me away from it."

Zoe giggled and you inwardly breathed a sigh of relief.

"Maybe you can convince Joel buy one for yourselves. He can certainly afford it," she told you with a wink.

"Yeah, and Zach can't?"

She shrugged, smile still stretched across her face but you could see something shifting in her eyes. "Can I tell you something?"

You nodded and leaned a little closer.

"I don't think Zach's doing very well. Business-wise."

Your eyes widened, encouraging her to continue.

"I don't know for sure, but I have overheard a few conversations and I get the feeling if he doesn't win this bid, his hotel chain is done for."

"Oh, no," you breathed, brows crinkling with concern. "Zoe, I'm so sorry."

She gave you a confused look but quickly recovered. "Oh, thanks. It's no big deal, you know. I'll be just fine."

What did that mean? Zoe would be just fine if Zach went bankrupt? How?

You wanted to press her further but you could tell the door closed. She was looking down at her freshly manicured nails with a huge smile then held them up to your face and wiggled them around.

"What do you think?"

She had picked a white nail polish with a faint hint of sparkle. The color did look very nice against her tanned skin and you told her so right when your technician released your hands, announcing you were all set. Pulling your fingers from the blue light, you admired them up close.

"Alright, I'll admit it. I questioned your color choice before but damn, that looks so pretty on you," Zoe said enviously as she examined your hot pink nails with a glitter top coat.

"Thanks," you gushed, hardly able to tear your eyes away after you left the salon and headed for the elevators. You could count on one hand how many times you ever got your nails done in the past and it was always for a special occasion: prom, a wedding... maybe once when someone got you a gift certificate for Christmas. It felt like such a treat and it gave you a nice little confidence boost.

You waved to Zoe when she got off on her floor, vowing to see each other in the morning bright and early on the dock, then rode the elevator the rest of the way to your floor.

It was difficult to contain your excitement when you entered the room, but you remained quiet because you heard Joel's voice carrying from the living room. He had someone on speaker who was discussing budgets and employee turnover so you snuck past him and headed towards your room to pack.

How much does one person need for two days? Not a lot, probably. But you weren't very clear on the dress code. Was this going to be casual? You already noticed if Glenn organizes the parties, the vibe is much more relaxed but Mary tends to make it a little more formal when she handles things.

After packing a swimsuit, two coverups, one set of pajamas (which you agonized over when you remembered you would be sharing a bed with Joel), and three different options for daytime wear, you went back out into the living room to see if Joel would know what you should pack for the evenings.

"Joel?" you asked softly when you spotted him sitting quietly on the couch with his eyes closed. He tilted his head to the side and slowly opened his eyes. "Are you okay?" you asked. He nodded and stood with a groan.

"Just tired," he said right when his laptop chirped with two new emails. He began to walk towards the table but you were closer. You bravely closed his laptop with two fingers and he froze.

"C'mon, what're you doin'?" he asked, taking another step, but you shook your head and leaned forward, resting your weight on the arm that was holding his computer closed.

"You need to take a break," you told him firmly. He scowled and crossed his arms.

"I'll be takin' a break when we're on the damn yacht."

"Taking a break on the weekend is a given. You work around the clock, Joel, you need to slow down."

"I don't got time for this," he told you with a shake of his head. "I'm busy, I got a company to run."

"Well that's just too bad because I have dresses to try on and I need help picking ones to pack," you told him just as sternly. His eyes flickered up to yours and you could practically see the gears in his head turning. "I think that's far more important than some emails, don't you think?"

His mouth twitched and you could see his face soften and you knew you had him.

"Fine. Ten minutes," he relented. You grinned and skipped off to your room, and only when your back was turned did he allow himself to smile.

Joel sat patiently on your bed while you tried on the handful of dresses you grabbed and put in the bathroom, waltzing back into your room every few minutes with a new one to show him.

"Darlin', I already told you. You look good in all of these."

"Yeah, but which ones are your favorites?" you pressed, doing a little twirl so he could see the back of the pink dress you were currently wearing. "And what will we be doing? Like, how formal are these evenings going to be?"

He shook his head, his eyes glued to the curve of your back when you spun around again. "Not that formal. One night we'll be on the beach, the other night just on the deck."

You nodded and tapped your chin with your finger. Any of the dresses you had would do now that he told you it wasn't that formal, but you were pushing twenty minutes of no laptop or cell phone useage and you really wanted him to take a longer break from work, so you had an idea.

"Okay, just one more. I'll be right back," you told him, scurrying off to the bathroom to slip into a deep purple dress that just so happened to be the shortest one in the bunch by a mile. You weren't sure what Joel's assistant was thinking buying you something so short and tight. When you looked in the mirror, the fabric clung to your curves, leaving very little to the imagination with only two thin spaghetti straps to hold it up.

Obviously it was too inappropriate to wear on the yacht, but that didn't stop you from taking a deep, nervous breath and strolling back into your bedroom with what you hoped was an air of innocence.

He was leaning back on his elbows when you walked in, eyes drifting around your room and taking note of the items you kept on your nightstand, but when he saw what you were wearing he straightened right up.

"What do you think?" you asked as you twirled, but that time you made sure to take it slow.

"It's, uh..." his throat when dry when he saw how perfectly the dress hugged your ass and he had to clear his throat. "Nice," he finally managed to say. You fought back a smirk when you heard the strain in his voice.

"Yeah?" you asked, looking down at the dress. "I don't know, the material is a little rough."

Joel swallowed when you ran your hands slowly down the fabric, your palms traversing over your soft curves, making his fingers twitch.

As if you read his mind, you looked back up at him with a little pout and asked, "you wanna feel?"

Without hesitation, he spread his knees and beckoned you over with two fingers. You grinned and stepped forward, stopping when you stood between his legs, his mouth mere inches away from your stomach.

You could feel his hot breath through the dress and you had to suppress a tingle down your spine, but when he lifted his hands to cup the backs of your bare thighs, you couldn't hide your reaction that time. You made a little noise in the back of your throat when his fingers squeezed your legs and he looked up at you, eyes so dark and filled with lust that it took your breath away.

"This okay?"

"Mhmm," you hummed, your hands coming up to his shoulders so you could balance yourself. His fingers inched up your legs slowly, tentatively exploring without giving into his deepest desires. But fuck... if he wanted to, you would have let him.

He slid his hands up the sides of your thighs, his fingers catching a bit on the hem of your dress before reaching your hips. He caressed the material there with both hands, each of you still pretending as if the fabric of the dress was any concern.

"See what I mean?" you whispered. Slowly, he nodded, but his eyes remained pinned on your body, his gaze drinking in every inch of you, committing you to memory.

"Fuck, you look good," he murmured as if it pained him, letting the facade slip for a moment. Your heart fluttered in your chest and you began to play with the curls on the back of his head. He tilted his chin to look up at you, his lips parted and his cheeks a little flushed. Nothing else had happened since that afternoon in the ocean when he kissed you other than leaving you completely confused about the nature of your relationship. But in that moment, you couldn't care less. All you wanted was to feel his lips on yours again, to feel that spark of electricity over your skin, so you leaned down a fraction, your gaze flicking from his eyes to his lips, making your intention crystal clear.

Just as you were about to brush your lips against his, he pulled his head away and dropped his hands. Immediately, you straightened back up, embarrassment warming your face while you tried to figure out what you did wrong.

"We can't," was all he said, eyes drifting to look everywhere except at you. You nodded and quickly stepped back, shame coursing through your veins.

"I'm sorry," you said, your voice cracking a bit. You cleared your throat and repeated yourself then hurried out of the room to get changed.

Joel called your name, asking you to come back, but you were too ashamed. Instead, you slipped back into the bathroom and practically ripped the purple dress off out of anger, vowing to tuck it way back into the depths of your closet so you wouldn't have to look at it the entire rest of the trip.

By the following morning, you forced yourself to brush off the awkwardness with Joel from the day before. You had three more weeks to spend with him pretending to be his fianceé and you refused to let one uncomfortable situation dictate the rest of your time there. So you plastered on a big smile for him the next morning when you exited your room with your bags in each hand. You could tell he wasn't sure how to react. He tiptoed lightly around you, making sure he didn't even accidentally touch you as you both moved around the hotel room collecting everything you would need.

In the elevator ride down to the lobby, he tried to bring it up but you cut him off before he could even finish his sentence.

"Did you remember your seasick medication?"

He floundered for a moment, scanning your face for any sign of bitterness, but he found none. If you wanted to pretend it never happened, that was fine by him.

"Yeah," he finally said, and you nodded before turning to stare straight ahead at the closed elevator doors.

He didn't try to mention it again.

When you arrived at the dock with the sun just beginning to peek over the water, casting the ocean in a beautiful golden hue, you felt your mood instantly improve. You were in fucking paradise and nothing was going to ruin that for you.

The crew was loading up your belongings and you were chatting with Glenn and Mary about how excited you were when Glenn's phone pinged in his hand.

He tugged his glasses out of his shirt pocket so he could read the text and he let out a disappointed groan.

"Ian's got food poisoning, Harry says," he told the three of you, "they can't make it. That's a damn shame."

"Oh, that's terrible. I hope it's not too serious," Mary said sympathetically.

You heard the telltale sound of heels tapping on the wooden planks behind you and you turned around to see the rest of the couples, along with Trevor and Brooks, arriving. The crew hurried past to assist with their bags and for the first time all day, Joel wrapped an arm around your waist. Your muscles stiffened at first and he felt it. Guilt washed over him before he cleared his throat and lifted his other hand in greeting. Zoe spotted you and waved excitedly, her energy just as infectious in the early morning hours.

When you spotted Tammy a few yards behind Zoe, your smile faltered a bit. You still hadn't brought up what you learned to Joel. Did you even have a right to know about his past with Tammy? You thought you did given how it could blow your cover, but maybe it was just gossip.

Still, it got under your skin.

When Zoe greeted you with a hug, you caught the look of distaste Tammy shot to Lynne before turning her head to gaze out over the ocean. It couldn't just be in your head at this point. There was definitely something going on with these women that you were not privy to yet.

Joel took your hand and lead you aboard the yacht, once again feeling the discomfort at his touch radiating off you.

He handled everything all wrong, he knew that almost immediately. It was all his fault. He was weak that day in the ocean and couldn't stop himself from kissing you, and now you were confused and hurt, but there was a reason he didn't want a traditional sugar baby agreement. He needed to keep his eye on the prize and stay focused, not standing there pretending to admire the lavish sitting room Glenn was showing everyone while wondering if you were wearing the lingerie he purchased for you.

How the hell did you manage to weave your way into his psyche so fast?

After the tour of the yacht, which was luxurious and had three levels, you were shown your private rooms, all of which included your own bathroom and a window so you could admire the sea from bed.

Joel ticked his jaw to the side as he looked around while you began to unpack a few of your things.

"I can sleep on the floor," he said. Your back was to him but he saw your hands freeze inside your bag before you took a deep breath and continued to pull out your toiletries.

"Don't be ridiculous. We can manage two nights in the same bed."

Even though you couldn't see him, he nodded anyway. He should just say it. Say he's sorry. Sorry for all of it. Sorry for leading you on, sorry for hurting your feelings, sorry for staring at your legs and wondering what they would feel like wrapped around his head.

The guests slowly made their way into the indoor sitting area once they settled in. If there wasn't an entire wall made of glass so you could look out the back of the yacht, you would have thought you were in another mansion. The carpet was plush and white under your feet. When you saw how pristine it was, you almost wanted to ask if you should take your sandals off, but instead you took Joel's lead and left them on.

There were three long, white couches that formed a U shape around a large, cherry wood coffee table. Above your heads the ceiling was dotted and lined with soft lights, giving the whole room a very warm and inviting glow. Abstract art hung on the walls but there wasn't much space: any wall that bordered the sea was made of glass. And across from the couches, built up against an interior wall was a bar that appeared to be stocked with every liquor and mixer known to man.

The crew had poured glasses of champagne and mimosas and left them on the bar. They were standing at attention against the wall near the kitchen, waiting to jump into action if need be.

Joel picked up two mimosas and handed you one. You nearly declined when you noted the early hour but decided to take it anyway with a quiet thanks.

"Meant to tell you, I like your nails," Joel said, pointing to your fingers wrapped around your glass. You gave him a small smile before looking back down at your glittery, hot pink nails.

"Thanks," you said, wishing you felt as excited about them as you were yesterday.

Glenn clapped his hands loudly, commanding the attention of the room. He let everyone know breakfast would be served on the dining room on the deck in ten minutes and encouraged people to grab a drink before heading out.

The moment the glass doors were opened, your senses were overcome with fresh, sea-salt air and an occasional fine mist that was being vented above the partially enclosed area.

Everyone found a seat around the square table that was already set with beautiful white plates trimmed in gold with matching bowls and mugs. When the crew began to place trays of fruit, baked goods, meats, eggs, and yogurt on the table, you leaned into Joel and tapped his shoulder.

"Did you take your medicine?" you whispered.

He smiled and put his glass down so he could fish the bottle of pills from his pocket.

"Thank you. That woulda been ugly," he joked, making you giggle before reaching for the tray of fruit. His chest warmed at the sound, pleased to see you smiling again but damn near giddy that he was the one to make you laugh.

You weren't terribly hungry but you nibbled at some fruit and yogurt, knowing you should at least try to eat something if you were expected to keep up with the way the group drank.

After about an hour at the table where you nursed the same mimosa Joel had given you earlier, Glenn stood up and suggested the men go to the top floor for cigars and poker.

"Looks like it's just us, ladies," Mary said gleefully when all the men began to place their cloth napkins on the table and, collecting their own drinks, stood to follow Glenn up the stairs.

"You good?" Joel asked softly before he left. You quickly nodded and shooed him off. You were still feeling rather vulnerable from being shot down the day before but you could feel yourself coming around. Maybe some distance and distraction would help.

If only you knew what the day had in store.

By noon the sun was blazing, the heat seared your skin as you laid out on your lounge chair with the other women. You could smell the faint hint of cigar smoke and hear the laughter from the men up above, but you couldn't see them from where you were. Occasionally you would hear Joel's voice, his southern twang becoming deeper and louder the more he drank and you found yourself smiling.

You were at least three drinks deep and you felt completely relaxed. All your concerns drifted away, getting twisted in the breeze and floating over the water. You even managed to find Tammy somewhat tolerable as you listened to her tell the group about her teenage son and a girl he was dating.

Maybe Zoe was wrong. Maybe it was just a rumor. Tammy seemed to be happy and fulfilled. She had what appeared to be a very strong marriage with Scott and they had two boys. By all accounts, they appeared to be a very happy family.

"I think I'm gonna take a break in the shade," Zoe announced, fanning herself while she picked up her things.

"Okay, dear. There should be chilled bottles of water out but if not, just ask the bartender. He can get you whatever you need," Mary told her while she adjusted her enormous sun hat.

"I think I'll join you," you said, suddenly feeling like your mouth was coated in sand. You couldn't even remember drinking any water since the hotel that morning.

The three other women waved politely when you stood and followed Zoe back inside where the air conditioning embraced you like an old friend.

"Oh, god, that feels nice," you groaned. The room was empty except for one bartender who was taking stock of the liquor with a clipboard. He quickly set it aside when Zoe approached and asked for two waters. You picked a couch and set your things down next to you with a sigh, then thanked Zoe when she handed you a frosted glass bottle of water.

Both of you practically chugged your respective drinks in under a minute, then giggled when you realized how crazy you must have looked.

"We gotta pace ourselves," Zoe said with a grin and a shake of her head. "It's gonna be a long night. Zach said we aren't supposed to reach the island til six, and with the time it will take for the crew to set up and cook, we'll be eating dinner late."

"That means we'll be getting back here even later," you said, finishing her thought.

She nodded and tossed her hair over her shoulder, her eyes a little glassy and her cheeks a little pink, either from the sun or alcohol or both. But based on the way she couldn't stop laughing at the smallest thing, you suspected alcohol was the bigger reason. When she glanced at you and erupted into a fit of giggles again without having to say a word, you knew for sure she was a little past tipsy.

"What?" you laughed, her silly mood too contagious to resist.

"Nothing, nothing," she said with a wave, then seemed to think about it for a second before giving you a mischievous grin and leaned forward, cupping her hand around her mouth in an attempt to muffle her voice, but it didn't work.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

You shrugged and nodded. "Sure."

She giggled again, slapping her palm over her mouth and tucking her chin against her chest. You frowned and laughed at how ridiculous she was acting and wondered what on earth she was about to say.

She cupped her hand over her mouth again and whispered loudly, "how is Joel in bed?"

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise at her question. Instantly, images and daydreams of what you thought Joel would be like in bed flashed across your mind. What the weight of his body would feel like pressed against yours, pushing you into the mattress. How his lips would feel wrapped around your nipple, his teeth teasing and pinching your skin. Would he kiss you slow and deep or passionate and needy? Would he groan your name when he buried his cock deep inside you? What was his favorite position?

All these things and more you had found yourself wondering more times than you could count since a few days ago in the ocean. He had completely taken over your mind to the point where you could hardly remember the girl you were when you first met, sitting in his office ready to storm out because of his abrupt and seemingly unpleasant nature.

You cleared your throat as you bought some time to scrounge up a lie.

"He's... good. Really good," you added. She nodded excitedly and rolled her wrist, urging you to continue. "He's attentive and... he doesn't rush." You could feel your cheeks heating up when you realized you were just telling her what you wished he was like, what you wished any of the men you had been with were like, only to always fall short in some way or another. "I'm not saying he can't be-" you glanced over your shoulder before lowering your voice, "rougher, because he can. There's been times I can hardly move after," you giggled and she gasped enthusiastically. "But he's always so sweet when we're done. He takes such good care of me, gets me whatever I need, tells me how beautiful I am." You swallowed, feeling only slightly pathetic at how you were turning yourself on with your own lies.

"How about Zach? What's he like?" you asked, changing the subject. Her face fell and she waved you off before taking another sip of water.

"Girl, c'mon, you know the answer to that."

Now it was your turn to gasp but the corners of your mouth twitched into a playful smile.

"What do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes at you and sighed. "You've seen him. He's not hiding anything spectacular, I promise you that."

Zach was significantly older than Zoe. Their age difference especially showed when he stood after sitting for a while, groaning deeply and usually needing a hand to steady himself, or when his phone alarm went off at various times during the day, volume practically maxed out, reminding him to take some pill. But you never got the impression Zoe was unhappy until now.

"So why are you with him?" you asked. Of course, you had to assume his money had something to do with it, but her answer was still not what you expected.

"Can you keep a secret?" she asked conspiratorially. You nodded and leaned forward. Zoe glanced around to make sure nobody else snuck into the massive sitting room before she whispered, "I'm a sugar baby."

"Y-you're... what?" you asked, your voice wavering. Fuck, you really wished you didn't have that last mojito. You were trying to keep your cool but your vision was swimming and your mind was buzzing.

"I think Tammy and Lynne suspect something. I think that's why they don't like me," she said, leaning back and gazing out to the ocean. "Nobody knows for sure, you can't say a word," she said, fear suddenly gripping her. "If Glenn found out, it would be over for Zach. Glenn holds way too much weight on family shit. He already isn't thrilled with our age difference," she sighed, gazing down at her freshly manicured nails. "But between you and me, I hope he doesn't get this land. He wouldn't be able to afford me anymore. Like, I want what's best for him and I want him to be happy, but this relationship is running its course, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah," you breathed, "wow, I had no idea."

She shrugged and picked up her phone. "It's really not a bad gig, but it would be a hell of a lot better if the guys looked like Joel instead of Zach," she giggled.

You laughed softly and took another sip of your water, your mind reeling. The pressure to pull off this little stint was mounting. Joel wasn't the only one who noticed Glenn was a man with family values and tried to do the exact same thing, and now more than ever Joel's alleged affair with Tammy seemed like a huge loose end that could jeopardize your whole lie.

Your nerves got the best of you. Looking back on it, you should have realized that before having two more drinks with lunch, but Zoe's bombshell left you rattled and you got carried away.

Around four in the afternoon, the men returned from the upper deck with their skin pink and their shirts a little damp from sweat, but they were all smiles when they stepped out onto the deck to find their partners with the exception of Glenn's sons, who came by themselves.

Joel didn't notice at first how tipsy you were because you did your best to hide behind a pair of sunglasses and a large hat. He sat down on the lounge chair near yours, looking like he had a couple drinks himself but not nearly as many as you. He appeared relaxed and at ease, no doubt pleased by whatever progress he made with Glenn in the past few hours.

"How's everythin' goin' down here?" he asked, his eyes scanning around the crowd of people who were beginning to mingle.

"Good," you said, "I found out some very interesting information that-" you hiccupped and covered your mouth, "that you would find interesting."

He raised an eyebrow at you and smirked. "Interesting information that I would find interesting?"

"Mhmm," you said, nodding vigorously this time. "I will tell you later," you added, unnecessarily enunciating each word, "when we're alone," you whispered, not realizing your voice was still rather loud. It didn't matter anyway, nobody could overhear you when the guests were all breaking up into groups and talking over each other, but still.

He grinned and glanced around the deck, "Alright, then," he replied. He was about to say more when his eyes landed on someone over your shoulder and he stiffened. You were too slow on the uptake to see what Tammy was mouthing to him, but when he subtly nodded and stood up, you glanced behind you to see her walking discreetly into the yacht, leaving her clueless husband behind.

"I'll be right back," he said to you, and before you could say anything to stop him, he strolled off in her wake, leaving you all alone.

You could blame the alcohol and pretend you weren't jealous, but you were absolutely fuming. Zoe had to be right. How could he be so careless? Did he really think nobody would notice? How could he not tell you about his history with Tammy when it could all blow up in your faces?

Then something occurred to you that made your stomach roll and you had to take a few deep breaths to fight back the wave of nausea.

What if they were still having an affair?

Is that why he didn't want to take things further with you? We can't, he had said. Was he fucking another man's wife this entire time?

You never felt so stupid in your life. Of course, that's what it was. No wonder he put a clause in your contract stating that sex was not to be part of the agreement. How fucking pathetic of him to act so faithful to another man's wife.

What if he was fucking her right now?

You stood up too quickly and lost your balance, but fortunately an arm shot out to steady you.

"Hey, you okay?"

You glanced up over your sunglasses to find Brooks, one of Glenn's sons, standing there with his hand wrapped around your arm looking concerned.

Quickly, you shook your head and forced a smile. "Yeah, the sun got to me, I think," you told him, then after another moment you realized his grip around your bicep hadn't loosened. Your eyes slowly drifted down to his hand and you gave your arm a little tug. Finally, he released you and you gave him a polite chuckle before fixing your cover up so you would feel less exposed in your bikini under his gaze.

"My dad says we should be reaching the island soon," he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his board shorts. They were neon blue and hung low on his hips. Almost too low, as if he were trying to draw your attention to it.

"Yeah, it sounds great. Should be fun," you mumbled, glancing around the deck, still not finding Joel or Tammy.

"Ever been here before?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. You shook your head.

"To Fiji? No," you answered.

"I'm surprised. It's a pretty common vacation spot for people in Joel's circle," Brooks said. If you were a little less distracted you might have picked up on the fact that he said Joel's circle and not your circle, but you didn't. You were too fixated on your anger and you were fueled by one too many drinks.

"Yeah - would you excuse me? I need to use the restroom," you said, gathering your things in your arms.

"Sure thing," he said, taking a step back so you could brush past him. "See you at dinner."

You gave him what you hoped was a polite wave before storming towards the glass doors that led into the yacht, but just when you were a few feet away, the door swung open and Tammy stepped out. It could have been your paranoia, but you thought she had a little smirk on her face when she passed by you and after that, all you saw was red.

You breezed through the sitting room. The only other people around were two servers who were quietly packing up dishware to take to the beach, then Joel suddenly appeared in the entryway that led back to your room wearing a different shirt than before and you clenched your teeth.

"Hey, was just comin' to get you," he said, not yet picking up on your anger. "You should get ready for dinner, we'll be there soon."

You narrowed your eyes at him and crossed your arms, uncaring that you could be overheard when you spat, "whatever you say, daddy," your tone clipped and dripping with disdain.

The muscles in his jaw twitched and his nostrils flared when he finally sensed your energy. He looked up, catching the eye of one of the crew members, who quickly averted his gaze and pretended not to have overheard what you said, then grabbed your arm.

You had the presence of mind not to fight him and cause a scene, but once he hauled you halfway down the hallway towards some privacy, you wrenched your arm out of his hold.

"The hell's the matter with you?" he seethed. "Are you fuckin' drunk?"

You rolled your shoulder, trying to fix your coverup that slipped down your arm while staring daggers at him.

"What's the matter with me?" you repeated, "what about you? What are you doing? Do you really think nobody sees what's going on?"

He furrowed his brow in confusion and made a face. "What are you talkin' 'bout?"

You took a menacing step forward and lowered your voice. "I'm talking about Tammy, Joel."

His eyes flashed with something you couldn't identify and you hardly had a chance to react before he grabbed your arm again and practically dragged you the rest of the way down the hall towards your room. Once you were safely inside, he slammed the door behind him and stalked over to you, making you stumble backwards in surprise.

"What the hell do you know 'bout that?"

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, trying to push down the wave of envy that bubbled up. "So it is true."

"Answer my fuckin' question," he growled, his eyes steely and his breath coming in quick. You shrugged and tried your best not to look nervous while being the target of his wrath.

"That you're having an affair," you said simply.

He stared down at you for what felt like hours before he exhaled and stepped back. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head before murmuring, "who told you?"

"Zoe," you sneered, taking one step backwards so you could rest your head against the wall. "Guess that means Zach knows, too."

"Fuck," he grumbled, then dragged his palms down his face in agony. "Fuck!" he said again, but shouted it that time and pounded his fist on top of a dresser.

You watched him nervously as he paced around the room, his anger beginning to sober you up a bit.

"You should have told me," you snapped. He swiveled around to look at you, his jaw so tight he could have cracked a tooth. "You could have ruined this entire thing but you're lucky I was quick on my feet and covered for you."

"You only need to know what I say you need to know," he said darkly, sending a shiver down your spine. "You were hired to do a job, so fuckin' do it."

You swallowed the lump in your throat when you saw the look in his eye.

"I'm trying, but you-"

"No," he said, cutting you off and closing the distance between you. "You were hired to look pretty and act like you're in love with me. That's fuckin' it. Everythin' else is none of your goddamn business."

You were just digging your own grave at that point so you figured there was no harm in tossing one more barb his way.

"Suppose it would have been too much to ask for you to at least tell me why you left sex out of our arrangement, but at least I know now it's not me. It's 'cause you're getting it somewhere else."

He inhaled sharply, his scowl cutting you in half.

"That's what this is 'bout?" he asked, stepping even closer. "You got your feelin's hurt yesterday?" His tone implied insincere pity and it sent a jolt of embarrassment through you but you remained quiet and held his gaze. He somehow had managed to cage you in against the wall, his arms bracing around your head as he leaned in closer. You could now smell a hint of toothpaste on his breath from when he came in earlier, without you, and you couldn't stop your next words from tumbling out.

"Did you bring her back here and fuck her in the bed I'm going to sleep in tonight?"

He smirked. He fucking smirked and you never in your life wanted to slap someone more.

"Jealous, baby?" he cooed. You shook your head but he just continued to give you that smug look. "Oh, I think you are. And you know what else?" He was taunting you now and you should have pushed him away but you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. He leaned in so his lips brushed against your ear when he whispered, "I think you would let me fuck you right now, if I wanted to."

Tears sprung up in your eyes unexpectedly so you quickly slid them shut. You refused to let him have the satisfaction of your humiliation.

Finally, he pushed himself off the wall and gave you space so you could breathe. With your eyes still closed, he spoke again from the other side of the room.

"I was gone ten minutes. Gimme some credit. I ain't fuckin' anyone in ten minutes."

You heard him yank open the closet and you managed to crack open your eyelids with a pathetic sniffle, watching as he tossed a black dress onto the bed.

"Get ready. We'll be leavin' for the island soon." Then disappeared through the door.

It only took about five minutes before Joel calmed down when the guilt crept in again. Once more he handled another situation with you as poorly as possible and to top it off, he was fairly certain he brought you to tears when he left.

He was so fucking stupid. He should have just told you the truth. He should have told you he hadn't slept with Tammy in over a year and what they had was over, but he just had to keep pushing and pushing. How did he keep making mistake after mistake? You weren't wrong. He should have given you a heads up about Tammy, but he never thought anyone else knew. And instead of admitting it, he lashed out, taking his anger out on you when it wasn't even your fault to begin with. It was his, for being careless and stupid enough for others to find out.

When you emerged from your shared room looking refreshed and fucking stunning in the dress he had rudely thrown onto the bed, he almost apologized. He wanted to, but one look at you told him you were not at all ready to hear it, so he swallowed his words and gave you some space. Well, as much space as he could allow when you were surrounded by ten other people on a deserted beach at sunset eating dinner.

He resisted the urge to drape his arm around the back of your chair or brush his fingers against yours where they rested on the table. Please forgive me, I'm sorry, he kept thinking every time he glanced your way, but you avoided all eye contact and focused on the conversation around you.

During dinner, he noticed you had not one but two more drinks and hardly touched a thing on your plate. He wanted to say something, he wanted to encourage you to at least eat a little more, but he couldn't risk setting you off again, especially in front of everyone. So he bit his tongue and smiled politely when he needed to but mentally he was scrambling to come up with a way to make things up to you.

You stretched your neck with a sigh at one point, drawing his attention, his eyes lingering on the way your fingers trailed down your throat, then watched when you pressed two fingertips into a sore spot on the base of your neck.

How could you ever think he wouldn't want you? Of course, he wanted you. Anyone in their right mind would want you. The second he laid eyes on you it was all he could think about. How could you not see that?

Fortunately, the entire group seemed to be tired so nobody really noticed or cared that you and Joel were not very talkative. On the boat ride back, he instinctively reached for your hand when the boat swayed a little in the choppy waters, but you quickly pulled your arm out of reach and turned away.

It was past ten and the waves were rockier than earlier. He wanted to thank you again for reminding him to take his motion sickness pill but he refrained. Fuck, what he wouldn't give to go back to that part of the day and do everything over.

When the boat reached the yacht, you practically leapt off and jogged back inside, his heart sinking in his chest at your retreating form. He offered his good nights and slowly followed you with his head hung low and his hands shoved in his pockets, but when he finally reached your room he realized the real reason you had been in such a hurry.

The moment he opened the door he could hear you retching in the bathroom and his eyes widened. He closed the door behind him quickly and he rushed to the bathroom, pausing on the other side of the door, unsure what to do or say.

"Are you alright?" he finally asked.

"Does it sound like I'm alright?" you shot back before gagging once again. He winced.

"I'll get you some ginger ale and crackers," he said, spinning around the room until he found a mini refrigerator stocked with a few necessities. As expected, some seasick items were supplied, and he picked out a few things he thought might help. Setting them down on your end table, he turned around and scratched his chin.

While he waited for you to emerge, he got himself changed into more comfortable clothes and then went in search of your own pajamas to lay out for you when you were ready. In one of the drawers he found a few motion sickness bags and he left one out for you when an idea struck. Quickly, he rummaged through his pants from earlier and triumphantly pulled out a little plastic bottle of pills.

When was the last time he ever tried this hard for a woman?

Just as he was about to call out to you again, you swung open the door. Your face looked pale and your eyes were red but you remained defiant and refused to glance his way. You spotted the clothes he laid out for you, and then the items on your bedside, and he thought he saw a flicker of affection in your eyes before you blinked and it was gone.

"Here," he said, holding out the bottle for you. "Take one of these, it'll help."

You stared at it for a few moments as you weighed your options, then begrudgingly snatched it from his hand and tapped one out into your palm. Tossing the bottle onto his side of the bed, you swallowed the pill with the water he set out for you and picked up your pajamas before retreating back into the bathroom for some privacy.

By the time you had changed, Joel had already switched the television on low to some bright sitcom he thought you might like and had turned down the bed. He sat on his side of the mattress, shamefully staring down at his fingers laced together in his lap, then glanced up when he heard the door open and the light turn off.

"Thank you," you murmured before sliding into bed and pulling the covers up to your chin.

"You're welcome," he said softly. He watched you silently for a few minutes while the corners of your mouth twitched occasionally at something that was said on the television, then he cleared his throat, warning you he was about to speak.

"I'm sorry," he said, brows pinching together. You looked up at him in surprise but said nothing, so he continued. "I shoulda told you 'bout Tammy. You were right. And I shouldn't've said... that other stuff," he added weakly, looking down at his hands again. "I ain't any good at this," he continued, pursing his lips in thought. "I push people away, I say all the wrong shit, always have, and now I'm doin' it to you. And it's... it ain't right."

You scanned his face, your resolve crumbling when you saw the sincerity behind his eyes.

"It's okay," you finally said, your voice sounding so small from underneath the plush comforter.

He shook his head. "No, it ain't."

"No, but I forgive you, anyway."

He finally dragged his eyes up to meet yours and smiled. "Thank you, darlin'."

You sighed and readjusted a bit under the covers. "I'm sorry, too."

"Nothin' for you to be sorry for."

"I got too drunk and embarrassed you. It won't happen again."

He scoffed and gave you a look of disbelief. "Half the people on this boat got just as drunk as you. These people are borderline alcoholics," he said, making you giggle a little. He grinned, his heart soaring when he heard the sound. "None of 'em probably even remember we went to dinner."

You laughed a little louder at that and he joined in with a chuckle under his breath. He could feel his muscles relaxing, his nerves settling. He may have just salvaged things yet.

Joel leaned back and tucked his legs under the covers, watching the sitcom but not really absorbing anything. In the past, when he let his mind wander, it was not exactly the way he pictured being in bed with you, but it was still nice.

"Things are over with me 'n her, by the way," he said after a long, comfortable silence. Your body stiffened and you tipped your head in his direction.

"Why didn't you just tell me that to begin with?"

He grinned and shrugged. "Maybe I liked it when you got jealous."

Your cheeks flared with heat and you pulled the bedding up tighter around you.

"Asshole," you muttered. He laughed, making you smile.

"I deserved that."

He could tell when you began to drift off. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw your head tilt towards your shoulder and your perfect lips part ever so slightly. You began to snore so softly, it almost seemed fake. No one looked and sounded that beautiful when they slept. Especially after being sick. But of course, you did. He should have known.

Joel reached over and flicked the lights off, washing the room in the television's glow, then slid deeper underneath the covers. Quietly, he turned the TV off and waited until his eyes adjusted to the darkness before rolling his head to the side to look at you.

What the hell were you doing to him?

It had only been a week and he could already feel himself falling, already doing things out of character and feeling more at ease in general.

So what was one more thing?

Carefully, so as not to wake you, he inched forward and wrapped one arm around your middle, pausing to see if you would stir. When your breath remained steady and even, he got a little closer and pulled.

You took a deep breath and sighed, then rolled onto your side. He closed the remaining space between you and tucked you against his chest while snaking one arm under your pillow, the other still around your waist.

The last thing he remembered thinking was how your hair smelled like coconut and vanilla, a comforting scent he wanted to wrap himself in that was so soft and addicting, it put him right to sleep.

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#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel x reader #joel x you #joel miller au #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us au #swept away fic

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uniquexusposts · 4 months ago

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Below Deck | C. Leclerc (1)

Summary: Y/n and Charles had broken up a few weeks ago. Y/n thought it was a good idea to enter the yachting world to get over the break up, but suddenly he shows up at the last charter of the season. How will they cope with it? Words: 3018 Read the story that was based off the one shot here Part 2

"All crew, all crew, the guests are arriving in ten minutes. Please, change into your polos," the captain said on the radio.

"Copied."

The final charter of Y/n's yachting season was about to start. She and her roommate Bobbie were standing in their cabins, changing into their polos. It was silence; they both were tired and glad this was their last charter.

Y/n was the third stew on this yacht, and Bobbie was the second stew. And you know what they say? They either love or hate each other. This time, they liked each other. However, they had a mixed relationship with their boss, the first stew: Helena.

"Last charter, girl," Bobbie said and put on perfume.

"Last charter," Y/n breathed. "Two more nights, three more days."

The entire crew made their way to the deck. They were standing in a line; Bobbie was holding the plate with the glasses of champagne, and Y/n had the plate with refreshing towels. The captain and chief stew were standing on the dock.

"It's the last one," Otis sang and did a silly dance. "The last, last, last." He was a deckhand.

Everyone laughed and danced along with him.

"I really hope the guests are chill, down to earth, not too demanding," Felix said hopefully, the engineer.

"And otherwise, we make the best of it," Bobbie said.

Six people were walking toward the yacht. The crew quickly peeked at their new guests but couldn't stare. Y/n looked at the group that had now arrived at the captain and chief stew. Her face straightened when she saw who the group was.

"Oh, my god, that is Max Verstappen," Felix whispered; the fanboy was getting exposed now.

"Who?" Otis asked.

"Max Verstappen, the Formula 1 2021 world champion," Felix said.

"I don't watch Formula 1," Otis huffed.

Eyes widened. "Is that Carlos Sainz? And Pierre Gasly?" Bobbie noticed them now.

"And Charles Leclerc," Luca said impressively, he was the bosun.

Charles Leclerc.

Y/n could feel her heartbeat rise, and her lips parted. There is no way that this is happening. Everything around her faded away for a moment. Her mind was blank. She barely knew how to stand up straight anymore, or how to breathe. The sun on her skin made her sweat even more. It is the last one, you can do it. Y/n returned to reality, cleared her throat and put her best fake smile on her face.

"Hello, welcome on board," Luca warmly smiled. "My name is Luca, I'm your bosun."

Max was the first one in the group, making clear he was the primary guest. He introduced himself to everyone and shook their hands. Kelly, his girlfriend and co-primary guest, was walking behind him. Followed by Carlos and his girlfriend, Pierre and...and Charles.

When Charles was standing in front of Y/n, their eyes met. She had not looked in those eyes for six weeks. Those blue-coloured eyes with touches of other more beautiful colours... However, the smile on his lips didn't reach his eyes. To her own experience, this moment took forever, but in reality, it was just a few seconds.

"I'm Y/n; nice to meet you," Y/n smiled. Well, she forced a smile. And it did not feel natural or convincing. She had to stay in her role. "Welcome on board. Would you like to have a refreshing towel?" She was the second to last person in the line.

Pain. She is acting like nothing happened. Charles swallowed hard. "Yes, thank you," he managed to say. He grabbed a towel and moved to the next person. He tried to listen to her words; he filtered her name: Bobbie. She offered him a glass of champagne. "Thank you, I'm Charles."

The captain was explaining a few things about the yacht. The guests were looking at Y/n, they knew her. And Y/n knew them personally. Y/n looked away from everyone, she could feel the judgy looks. Nobody knew she was here, doing this job. She went off the radar six weeks ago. They all looked back at the captain and first stew when they announced the yacht tour would begin.

Everyone but the captain and first stew walked off the boat to get the guest's luggage.

"I really cannot believe we have F1 drivers as guests," Felix cried. "I cannot believe that they shook my hand."

"Dude, chill," Otis smirked.

"I think they will be chill," Bobbie said. "They look chill and give off a relaxing vibe."

Felix grabbed a suitcase and a backpack. "Do you watch F1, Y/n?" He gave the two pieces to her.

The crew developed a thing during the season: adding Y/n's name at the end of every sentence meant for her.

"No, I don't, and I won't," she coldly replied and walked back on the boat with the luggage.

Oh, my, I can't wait for the moment they walk off this boat. She dragged the luggage down to the guest bedrooms. Everyone was so hyped to serve the drivers, but Y/n only wanted to cry.

"What is the room division?" Y/n asked Luca.

"Master is Max and Kelly, left is Carlos and Rebecca, and right is Pierre and Charles." Luca stepped toward her to check the labels. "You have Charles his luggage. You have to go to the right, Y/n."

You've got to be kidding me. "Perfect," she replied and opened the right cabin door. On the preference sheets, they requested to unpack their luggage, but Y/n knew Charles hated it when people touched his stuff. She bit her lip and placed his backpack on the chair. For a moment, she looked at it. It was just a black backpack, it was simple, and somehow she adored it a lot. "Fuck," Y/n whispered and took a deep breath. She stepped away from his suitcase and lifted it to be placed on the luggage chair. The only thing she did was open his suitcase.

"Oh, o, I'm sorry."

Y/n turned around, and she gasped for air. "My goodness, Pierre. You scared me," she whispered.

"Sorry," he whispered back. "I had no idea that you worked on a yacht now." The Frenchman entered the room. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," she softly said. Pierre stepped towards her and gave her a hug; he was not only a good friend of Charles, but also a good friend of Y/n. "How are you?"

"Good, I'm good, now I know where my friend hangs out."

She weakly smiled.

"Is everything good in here?" Helena entered the cabin with Pierre's luggage. The fake smile appeared on her face, but she looked judgemental at her stew.

Pierre smiled. "Yes, absolutely. I was asking Bobbie to help me with unpacking my suitcase." He pointed at Y/n.

Helena slowly nodded. "Perfect. Y/n, can you help me at the bar if you're done unpacking the suitcase?" She put the accent on 'Y/n'.

It made Pierre chuckle.

"Yes, absolutely." Then Y/n realised she answered the exact same as Pierre. Helena walked away. "Bobbie? Seriously, Pierre?" She wanted to grab his suitcase, but he was first.

"Neh, neh, neh, you're not doing this. I can do it myself," he said and closed the door behind him. "You sit, I talk, you listen," he said and opened his suitcase. "And I had to say a your name wrong, I don't know you."

"Oh, god." Y/n sat down on the free chair. She looked at Pierre. An empty feeling entered her body. "I don't know if I can do it, Pierre," she hopelessly said.

"Then don't pay attention to him."

"How?" She shot back. "Did you know how hard it was to not burst into tears when I saw it were you all who came? Pierre, I'm not ready to face him yet."

"And what do you want to do now? You can't walk away, we're already sailing away."

Y/n groaned, annoyed.

"But Y/n, why did you go off the radar? I was worried."

"Yachting," Y/n simply replied. "Working my arse off." She got up; it didn't feel right to be in a room and doing nothing. "I barely have time to keep up with everything. On my breaks, I do a power nap. On days off, I'm just enjoying my free time-" She got cut off by a radio message for her. She replied straight away. "I gotta go, we will speak later."

"Yes, of course. I'm happy to see that you're doing fine, Y/n," Pierre mentioned. "This is something I do not have to worry about anymore."

Her fingers were wrapped around the doorknob, she only smiled weakly. She opened the door. "And, Pierre?"

"Yes?"

"Please don't be like shit, we can't handle more shit guests anymore," Y/n whispered and squinted her eyes.

Pierre grinned. "It really depends on how we get treated."

"Get out of here." She rolled her eyes and closed the door behind her. It did her good to see Pierre again, but it was not how she would have liked. Someone wanted to walk down the stairs when she wanted to walk up the stairs. "You go first," she politely smiled.

Charles walked down the stairs, slowly. His eyes were glued on Y/n. The salmon orange-coloured shirt highlighted her tanned skin tone. However, it seemed like she had lost some weight. His lips parted. "Sorry, I didn't know you worked here, Y/n," he whispered.

Her eyes closed for a second or two; the way how he says it will never tire me. "I...is...is everything to your liking?" If Y/n left her role to him, things would escalate.

"Yes." Charles had to switch between being informal to formal. It hurt him, but if this was what she wanted... "It's perfect."

"Perfect. If there is anything that we can do for you, please don't hesitate to say it."

"I will, thank you."

And away she went. Y/n ran up the stairs and faced Helena at the bar. "I will be back in a sec; I have to change into my work clothes," she smiled and walked to the crew mess.

The smile dropped from her face, and she stormed to her own cabin. She closed the door behind her and balled her hands into fists. "Fucking hell," she breathed and felt the tears flowing in her eyes.

Y/n yawned when she walked up the stairs. It was seven o'clock in the morning, and her day shift had just started. It was the second day of the last charter. She was about to check the bar, but she noticed two people outside in the lounge. I hate morning people. This is not a pleasant way to start the day.

She walked to the lounge. "Hello," Y/n smiled.

"Hello, darling," Rebecca warmly smiled.

"Good morning," Carlos smiled.

"God, you're early," Y/n softly said, breaking the character for a second, regretting it already.

Carlos smirked. "You know us."

"Yeah, that is true. Is there anything I can get you?"

"I'm fine; I'm just enjoying the sunrise," Rebecca said.

Carlos nodded. "I'm fine too."

"Perfect. If there is anything that you want, just give me a shout. Will the breakfast still be at ten?" Y/n felt uncomfortable; she was serving her friends. And it usually would not matter, but this is the top-of-the-top service she had to give.

He nodded again. When Y/n stepped away, he inhaled. "Y/n, how are you doing?"

"I'm alright, busy with work. How about you?"

"Happy to have a weekend off," Carlos answered her question.

"I had no idea you worked on a yacht now," Rebecca admitted. "Do you like it?"

Y/n looked around. Yes, her job was to entertain the guests and be polite. But to a certain point. Being personal was crossing the line. But it were her friends. However, how much would it affect her tip at the end? That was why she entered the yachting world. "Yeah, I had no idea that I would end up here," Y/n also admitted. "But you know, it's something else, and I think it's fine for now." And it is quick and much money.

"How many more days do you have left?"

"This is the last charter."

It was silence.

"Gosh, I miss you, girl. It's so hard to not act like friends," Rebecca breathed and pressed her lips into a thin line. "Because I can see how you distance yourself from us."

There goes the tip for the crew.

"I'm sorry. It's just... I don't want them to know that I know you. So I'm sorry if I act like a cold bitch, but I... They can't know," Y/n stammered and swallowed hard. "Because I want to laugh with you, talk to you like we used to, but if I do, I will get in trouble for being too personal and crossing so many lines."

Rebecca got up from the lounge. "I know, I know," she said and hugged Y/n.

"I miss you so much," Y/n whispered, hurt. "Seeing you again, makes me so happy."

"When you're finished here, we need to go out, okay?" She looked at her friend when letting go of her.

"Yes."

Felix was walking around the boat, checking if everything was looking decent. "Good morning," he said. One of the guests was sitting on the lounge, and the other was standing next to Y/n. "Is everything okay here?"

"Yes, thank you," Carlos smiled.

Y/n forced a smile on her face. "I'm talking Rebecca and Carlos through the planned schedule for today," she said to her colleague. "Everything is still going as planned." Felix nodded, satisfied and walked away. "At the picnic... I heard that more people were joining you?"

"Lando, George, Alex and Daniel are joining with their girlfriends," Rebecca mentioned. "Are you coming too, or will that not be on your service? Or do we have to ask if you will join us? You're one of us, you have to be there. This was your idea." Y/n joked about booking a yacht with a beach picnic a couple of months ago, only because she watched Below Deck.

And they actually booked it. The realisation hit Y/n. This was her idea, and she couldn't even join them. Well, on the other side. "I was one of you," Y/n replied. "And I can't join you. I am working. I won't be able to lunch with you."

"You will, we will make something up. And yes, Charles will be there. But you don't have to hug or kiss him. We will make sure you will be sitting on the complete opposite of him, yes?"

"I am so glad that this is the last picnic," Bobbie breathed and placed some plates on the table. "I fucking hate picnics, especially on the beach. It looks so nice when you can just sit on your butt and eat. But it is a pain in the arse when you have to make it look so nice. I mean, the sun is breaking me apart, there's sand everywhere, nothing is stable," she complained.

Y/n smiled, but bit her lip to hide it. She placed the cutlery next to the plates and only listened.

"I'm sorry for my complaining hour, but now we can talk without other people hearing it," Bobbie mumbled.

"No, no, please, share everything you want. I'll just listen," Y/n replied and softly chuckled. "Because I can only agree with you."

"And you know what I heard? Helena was talking to Otis in the crew mess - she didn't know that I was in the laundry room - and she literally said: 'Since the moment the guests have arrived, I have not heard Y/n's name once. Not once. Do they even know that we have a third stew? I am working my arse off, and she gets to do nothing.'," Bobbie dramatically said, and she looked sorry at Y/n.

Y/n stopped placing the cutlery on the table. "What? Is she serious?"

"That is what I heard..."

This could either be the truth or a lie to create drama. "I work my arse off, she is the one who does nothing. She only makes out with Otis and lets us do the work. She can kiss my arse. Whatever. Just one more day and it is over," Y/n defended herself. "I'm starting to move to the dislike side. I liked Helena at first, but she's doing weird things and blaming us for it."

"I stopped liking her after the first charter when she screwed me over by saying that the master was not cleaned yet. That was her job, it was even on the board. And suddenly, it was my job without saying shit to me," Bobbie ranted. "She can suck my dick."

The radio went off. "Bobbie and Y/n, the guests are on their way."

Bobbie grabbed her transceiver. "Perfect, thank you," she friendly said.

Y/n burst into laughter and continued putting the cutlery on the table. "You're such a snake."

"Learnt from the best," Bobbie proudly said.

"Sassy."

Fifteen minutes later, the table was all set, and the guests arrived. Bobbie quickly took a photo of the table while Y/n walked over to the tender to help the guests out of the tender.

"Thank you, Y/n," Max smiled.

She gave him a nod and helped Kelly, who was also getting help from Kelly. She was followed by Rebecca, Carlos and Pierre. Y/n looked at Charles and stuck out her hand. She could see the doubt in his eyes, but he grabbed her hand anyway. She gasped for air and saw every memory she had of him, playing in front of her eyes. And it looked like Charles had it too.

Charles looked away and jumped out of the tender into the water. "Thank you, Y/n/n," he softly said and let go of her hand.

"Anytime," she lipped and swallowed hard.

It had been just over 24 hours, and she barely had seen Charles. He was avoiding every contact moment between himself and his ex-girlfriend. Y/n noticed it, it hurt, but it was for the best. She looked down and closed her eyes; she just wanted to walk further into the sea and drown.

"The other tender is arriving, Y/n," Luca said.

Y/n opened her eyes and looked up at the bosun. "Thank you, Luca. I will let you know when they want to go back," she said and padded the tender a couple of times.

"Copied."

She waved at him when he sailed away. Her eyes fell on the other tender, and she put on another smile. Y/n stepped to it. "Welcome, everyone."

"Y/n!" Carmen excitedly said, but straightened her face right away. "Oh, my god, sorry. I don't know you," she apologised. Rebecca had asked the others to pretend not to know Y/n, only to protect her from her colleagues.

"It's okay, darling," Y/n said and smiled comfortably. Once again, she helped everyone get off the tender, and she made an agreement with their bosun. "I will call you," she mentioned. He nodded and sailed away as well.

The beach picnic started.

It was fake. Her smile was fake. Her laugh was fake. It seemed like her happiness was fake as well. Charles couldn't keep his eyes off Y/n. It was so incredibly hard to be around her. How she was pretending nothing had happened. But she probably had to do that because of her work, but still. It hurt him to see her smile at him. It hurt him how she would serve him drinks without any problem while he was freaking out on the inside.

"Is everything to your liking?" Bobbie asked and looked around.

Multiple nods and yeses were shared.

"Amazing..."

Y/n walked away from the table and let Bobbie do her thing with talking. She grabbed a bottle of water and took a sip. Her eyes were resting on the table. I should have been there as well...

...because I am still in love with my ex-boyfriend. I tried to forget him during my six weeks of yachting, but I can't stop thinking about him. I can't get over him because I am still connected to him. We were together for four years, and he was my first real love.

And we broke up because we thought it didn't work anymore.

We thought...

Stupid thought.

Seeing them all together feels like a reminder that everyone has moved on. That he had moved on. I feel ashamed of myself for feeling this way. I need to move on too. But I can't move on because Charles still occupies so much space in my head. It is really starting to annoy me and affect my life. I can't see a way to move on because every time I try to move on, he is still in my head, telling me that I'll not be happy with someone else. This terrifies me because I know it is true.

He was my first love, and he is my only love.

What am I meant to do now? I'm 24 years old, and my life feels so unfinished already. It's so difficult when everyone is moving on, and I am just stuck in the same place.

"Hello, Y/n?" Bobbie was waving in front of Y/n's eyes. "Are you here with me?"

A shock went through Y/n's body, and she looked at Bobbie. "What? Yes, why?"

"You're crying?" Bobbie squeezed her eyebrows together and looked worried. "Are you okay?"

Y/n felt her cheeks; they were wet. Her heart dropped. She dried her cheeks quickly and forced a smile on her face. "Sand in my eyes, no worries," she smiled.

"If you say so..."

"I say so." Y/n cleared her throat and looked at the table again. Her eyes got stuck on one person. Their eyes were locked. All the air got sucked out of her lungs.

Charles saw it. All of it.

Part 2

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos@crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess

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