The Carrero Effect Trilogy - Chapter #7 - Free To Read

Chapter 5

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Chapter 5

I must've gone back to sleep at some point in the car ride through the city because I wake up completely disorientated in a familiar bed, Sarah's loud snoring and body next to me. I sit up warily as spinning nausea and headache of the world's worst hangover hit me, and I push down the urge to throw up.

The room is dark and quiet, but that doesn't mean much. Jake has blackout shades on all his windows, blocking the sun whenever he wants to sleep. I scramble around under the sheets, catching the smell of him from the cushions under my head, and it instantly overwhelms me with a mix of longing, pain, and upset.

I still don't know how to feel. Great.

I slide out and carefully tread my way to the bedroom door, not wanting to wake Sarah or anyone else, especially when I've no idea what time it is. I open the door slightly and hear muffled voices from the kitchen, followed by a sudden rush of brilliant light which makes my eyes smart, and I hurry to cover them from the blinding pain.

It takes a moment to get used to the adjustment, and I check I'm still wearing clothes; last night's dress and underwear are still intact, which surprises me. I would've expected Jake to at least undress me. It's not like he hasn't seen me in varying degrees of nakedness. I guess I'm seeing how much of a gentleman he can be. The fact he chose not to sleep in the bed beside me hints at him respecting my need for space. Part of me feels disappointed, and I wonder how it would've felt waking up in his bed in his arms. The thud in my stomach hits when I realize that may never happen again. We may never sleep in a bed together again, and I try to push down the thought as a twisting wave of tears runs up inside me.

I head out in search of a drink and some pain relief in hopes of distracting myself from those agonizing thoughts.

I pause when I see Leila and Jake sitting at the breakfast counter across from one another, talking in hushed tones. They have their heads bent over coffee mugs and a plate of butter croissants, seemingly oblivious to me as I wander out quietly. Just seeing him takes my breath away, and my palms start to clam up.

"Give him time, Leila … You know Daniel's head is royally fucked-up. He has some serious issues when it comes to love." Jake leans out and covers her hand with his in a small affectionate gesture, which makes me want him back so badly. I miss having him act that way with me. I miss his attention and soft touches, his never-ending understanding, and how he grounds me.

No! Don't even go there. He hurt you. You're not your mother, running back to men who don't care about what they do to you.

My mind slaps me hard. Somewhere old PA Emma, voice full of stern disgust, finds her way back inside my head.

I clear my throat quietly, spanning the area from his door to the kitchen, and they both look up. Leila smiles, and Jake slowly rises, not hurrying to take his hand from hers. He walks around the kitchen, making me a mug of coffee without lingering too long or looking at me. It hits me like pain under my rib cage and confounds me.

"Morning, you. How you feeling?" Leila looks freshly showered and wearing a T-shirt and shorts belonging to Jake. Her clean face, free from make-up, looks unbelievably young and cute; her blond, choppy hair is tucked behind her ears making her look ten years younger. No hint of last night's tear-stained emotional wreck, and I can only admire her for it. I've no clue how awful I must look right now, and she's making me so self-conscious. I try to run my fingers through my hair, knowing my make-up under my eyes must be smeared.

I catch Jake's eyes flicker to mine and wonder if he thinks I look like an absolute mess; maybe that's why he's trying not to look at me.

Great.

"Like I'm dying," I mumble, trying to get onto the stool beside her, my head aching and mouth dry like sandpaper. I've never felt a hangover this bad. I drop my face to avoid him. I obviously look like trash. I wish he could see me looking better or showered, at least.

Jake wanders over and slides the coffee in front of me with a glass of water. He reaches out for a pack of aspirin and places them beside me too, his eyes never leaving the task, not once looking at me.

I am stabbed with that tug of pain again. I want his beautiful green eyes to look at me the way he always does. This is just painful. I want to feel like the center of his universe again, commanding his attention and attentiveness. I want him to tell me that I look nice, even though I know I don't because that's what he does, what he's supposed to do. I miss it.

"Thanks," I utter softly, trying not to focus on him for too long. He pulls the plate of croissants over toward me.

"They're fresh; I picked them up about a half hour ago on the way back from my run." His deep voice is like molten sexiness, and I can't help but glance up at him. Our eyes meet, but he's the first to look away, and it emotionally slaps me hard across my heart.

Why won't he look at me? Because I was a drunken mess last night and now probably look a hundred times worse. Hardly the picture of beauty he probably imagined in our separation.

My head starts going crazy with suspicions, self-doubt, and panic, my stomach lurching once more, and my nerves get the better of me.

Has he been with someone else in my absence? Because he could, we're not together, and it's who he used to be. Has he decided he doesn't love me after all? Oh, my God … has he decided we're not worth the fight?

I swallow a little too heavily, my hand trembling around the glass with shaking fingers. Wetness builds in my eyes as I try to focus on the water inside the cup.

"I love you. Even hung over with last night's make-up on, you're stunning," Jake whispers quietly, as his hand slides over mine on the glass, his face close enough for my cheek to warm from his breath; his touch is the healing balm I ache for. I flicker up sharply, surprised at how he guesses my inner thoughts, always knowing how to calm me. "Stop doubting it, Emma." Our eyes lock, and he lets me go quickly, leaving my hand cold and pining for his warmth. Then, as though nothing happened, he returns to drinking his coffee. I can feel Leila's eyes on me.

"I'm going to leave you two to talk while I get dressed. You guys need some time alone." Her hand comes to my shoulder. "Give him a chance, Emma, babes. Men are programmed to be shitheads. They can't help it." She kisses me on the cheek softly, throwing Jake a supportive wink before sliding down, and padding off toward the guest rooms at the far end of the apartment.

"If you're not ready to talk yet, I can understand. I'll take you and Sarah home when you're ready." He stays focused on swirling the coffee in his mug with a steady voice and relaxed posture. He seems to be quietly mulling over his thoughts, not letting me get any vibes into his feelings.

I swallow hard and inhale very slowly.

Decide, Emma. This is the moment to either move forward or stay here in this pain. It's time to either bite it and talk or go back to hiding in self-pity.

"Maybe when you take Sarah home, I can get a shower and freshen up here?" I can't bring myself to look at him, my insides turning to jelly. "I'll need to get her up soon anyway because she's working today." I sound feeble and unsure of myself, part of me wondering if he'll even want me to stay or if he'll just send me home.

"I'd love nothing more than to have you stay if you're sure?" the tiny hint of hope in his voice is obvious, and it hurts more than I can bear. Not in a bad way but in an 'I'm so royally broken-hearted over you, yet you still give me tingles' kind of way. We glance at one other and quickly look away, awkward and emotional, unable to stand the gaze of one another's eyes for more than seconds.

Okay, now I get why he won't look at me for long. This shit hurts.

"You don't need to get me up. I'm up." Sarah's hoarse and grumpy voice echoes our way from the bedroom door; we turn in surprise to see the disheveled mess slumped . Her face is a makeup smear, and her hair is sticking up at odd angles. "What the hell did we drink last night?" She groans, looking around, searching for something.

"Your bags are all on the couch with your shoes." Jake points out, and I spot the little mini mountain of bags, shoes, and coats piled carefully on the sofa. Another thoughtful Jake move; any other man would have dumped them on the floor by the door.

"Thanks. I'm sure Marcus is going crazy over my whereabouts right now." She practically crawls to the couch and starts rummaging in her bag.

"I called him from your cell when we got here last night and told him I'd bring you home this morning. He was cool with that." Jake cuts in, and I find myself glancing at him with no surprise at all. This is who he is - smart, intuitive, and mature in so many ways, always thinking of every detail and doing what needs to be done. I sigh a little.

"God. Did you tell him what an absolute drunken mess I was?" She groans, trying to scroll through her phone one-handed while pulling her shoes on in a rather awkward and dangerous pose.

"I left out the part about peeling you off a bar floor and having you throw up all over the back of my car," Jake smirks at her, and I catch the grimace running across her face as she tries to remember. The look of disgust at her behavior.

"Jesus. I'm so sorry. I never drink as much as that. Leila is an awful influence on me, but damn, that girl is hilarious." She giggles and goes back to her phone.

"It's fine. The car's already been taken to get detailed. Jefferson was the only one to endure the smell, almost enough to get drunk on the fumes." Jake is smiling.

God, that smile.

Good humor from him, despite looking shattered since he hasn't slept.

"Ha. You need to let me pay for it, seriously. I can't let you pay to clean up my mess." Sarah turns our way and walks toward us, pure sincerity on that stubborn face, but Jake only shakes his head. I'm surprised at the lack of hostility toward him, especially since this very awkward scene is because of him.

"Don't worry about it. If it wasn't you, then it was going to be Emma. Kudos to her though she waited until we hit the curb." I snap up and gawp at him with a shocked flush to my face.

I threw up in front of Jake. Oh, my God.

"I'm sorry." I fumble the words out, embarrassed, my eyes hit my fingers in my lap, and I twist at the hem of my very short dress.

Great way to show the man who hurt you that you're so in control and worth every inch of the fight to get you back. Especially when you drunk dial him, need his rescue, and then throw up at his feet.

Classy, Emma … just classy.

"Don't be. I'm glad I was the one there to take care of you. It was a drunk Emma I've never met before." His eyes linger this time, and I can feel them boring into me a little too closely, his scrutiny making me feel more awkward. I wish the ground would open below my feet and swallow me whole.

Sarah wanders over toward us and turns green at the sight of food. Jake waves a mug at her to offer coffee, his eyes finally giving me respite, but she shakes her head.

"No, really, no. If I take a sip, I'll hurl. I need to get home and get sorted out before I start the lunch rush at work. I can call a cab, so you don't have to …" Her eyes flicker between Jake and me and the obvious tension between us.

"No, it's fine. I want to give Emma some space to get herself together, and my driver is out for now anyway. I'll take you; I'll go get my shoes." Jake pushes off the counter, glancing at me quickly, and saunters off toward his guest rooms. I can't help but watch his strong and fit body swagger, like a man with too much sex appeal, crossing the room and that ass, sighing as I watch it go.

When did he start keeping clothes down there?

"You're not coming home anytime soon, I take it?" Sarah looks me up and down warily, a slight hint of hope on her face and a smirk at where I've been staring.

What is with all these looks?

"No. I think I need to stay for a bit and see what I feel." I turn away from her, my mind getting itself out of the gutter with the memory of Jake's ass. I down two aspirin with the water and hold the pack to her, but she shakes them away.

"Don't close down on him. Give him a chance. No one's perfect, babe." She runs a hand over my hair and tweaks my cheek. "The guy obviously adores you. I mean, who else comes tearing across Manhattan to find his ex because he's worried she's in danger?"

"I'm not his ex!" I snap a little too quickly, the outburst surprising me. I've not even begun to contemplate what we are, but I am not that, not if he loves me.

"Well then, seems there's a small part of you that acknowledges it's not over." She smirks at me knowingly, then moves away as we hear Jake coming back. "Tell Leila I said thanks for a memorable night." Sarah smiles as she moves to go.

"Ready?" he asks her, bending to kiss me on the cheek impulsively as he passes. He freezes as his mouth connects with my skin. It reacts with goosebumps and flashes of flutterings deep in my stomach, my body still electrified by his touch even when things are this way between us. It hurts me knowing my body would easily fall back into his arms.

Pathetic.

"Sorry." He straightens up and looks away from me. "Habit." He mutters it so softly, almost sounding painful. He walks off, placing a hand on the small of Sarah's back, guiding her toward the door with an unreadable backward glance toward me. I've no idea how to feel about any of this, and I'm starting to wonder if it's even a good idea. I'm unsure if I have the strength to face Jake alone and fight his pull over me. I watch him from lowered lashes, and a complete pit of confused despair churns me up.

Sarah slides on her coat, picks up her oversized bag, throws me a wave, and blows a kiss with a wink as I watch them leave; a strange sense of nerves creeps up inside me as Leila comes strolling down the hall dressed in last night's clothes.

"I have my driver coming for me, so I'm going to head down, babes. Sarah still here? Has Jake gone?" She scans around in surprise.

"Jake's taking Sarah home," I say, picking at a croissant on the plate, having no desire to eat. My stomach is making a good effort to impersonate a washing machine.

"Yet you're still here?" She grins, placing her hands on her hips, and I sigh in response.

"I don't know what I'm feeling or thinking anymore. I'm giving him a chance to talk, and I guess I'll take it from there." I can't meet her eyes as she hovers beside me. Part of me feels like I'm being weak for being here after only a week of separation. I know Leila and Sarah are urging me to work this out, but I still feel pathetic.

"Make him suffer, Ems, but don't let him go. He's one of the good ones, despite all this shit, trust me. So, maybe a little messy in the brain department, but I can promise you he's worth it." She hugs me around the shoulders tightly before skipping to the couch for her shoes and belongings.

"What about you and Hunter?" I watch as her body goes rigid halfway to putting her shoe on.

"That boy has been breaking my heart since I was fifteen. I doubt he'll ever sort out the mess in his mind long enough to let me in. I need to learn to get over him," she shrugs, shoes now on, and turns to me with a resigned expression, meeting my gaze confidently. "Daniel is always going to be the first boy I fell in love with. He was my first kiss. He was my first sex, too; not even Jake knows about that time, so please don't tell him. I'm sure he would kill Daniel for it, but he's so far down that route of woman-hating and mistrust and emotionally fucked-up that I doubt we'll ever be anything more." She shrugs and continues getting ready, sliding her coat on. I blanche at her open-mouthed in shock.

"Your first time having sex?"

I just can't … Just can't.

"Yeah, my sixteenth birthday. I saw another side to him and stupidly fell for it. I was already gooey-eyed over him because he'd kissed me senseless a couple of weeks before my party. He was eighteen and just as handsome as he is now, all muscle and big grins of self-confidence." She sighs dreamily, almost lost in memories of a boy she once knew. Then, snapping out of it, she picks up her bag and walks toward me with a tear in her eye.

"What was it like? What happened?" I can't seem to get my head around any of this at all.

"Daniel's brain happened. It was nice. None of the horror stories about the first times that you usually hear about. He was gentle and slow and made sure I was ready before he did it. It didn't hurt, and I even had an orgasm. So, I guess he was my first of those too. He kissed me the whole time and told me I was beautiful, and I felt it. He was obviously already a seasoned player by then."

I know I'm gawping, but I can't help it. I've seen the way Daniel is with women, and none of those images match up to the vision of Leila's first time.

Daniel must be in love with her after all.

"So, what then? Did he not call you after that?" I'm trying to understand how the hell he could've got that by Jake unnoticed. Jake is like a sniffer dog with his crazy sixth sense and bloodhound instincts when protecting the women he loves.

"He told me I was too young, that it was dumb, and Jake would kill him. I was so in love with him that I didn't want to argue, and it hurt like hell, but I wanted to play it cool and act mature. I think I died a little every day after that, and then the weeks passed, and he never spoke about it again. We'd fallen back into our old 'friendship,' and he went back to acting like nothing had happened. I was so confused!"

I guess that would be why no one knew!

"Oh, Leila. What an asshole." I frown at her; irritation rises from deep inside me, angry that Daniel could dismiss something this important to Leila without a care. She shrugs nonchalantly, rummaging through the contents of her bag until she locates a lip balm and applies some with her fingertips.

"It's nothing compared to what he did to me in Paris a few years back … That time I really did think this was it, a whole night of crazy passion and drunken fun, and I was so freaking happy. I realized how crazy about him I still was. We were locked in a room for eight hours solid and had sex multiple times, making me orgasm like crazy. The best night of my life. Come morning, he gets up before I'm awake and sneaks off, doesn't speak to me for months, wouldn't return my calls, nothing. I only started being okay with him last year when Jake convinced me to try to be civil for his sake."

"Jesus." I cringe, trying to figure out how I would've felt if it had been Jake.

It doesn't bear thinking about.

"Yeah, that time hit me hard. I went on a drink-fueled binge for a few months, partying wild and man-hungry, trying to get him out of my system. My brother, Tom, and Jake came and dragged my ass back home and put me on lockdown for a few weeks until I stopped and got sober." She hauls on her coat and throws her bag over her shoulder airily, hiding her innermost feelings from sight.

"Leila, I'm so sorry." Tears catch in my throat, and I get up and walk toward her, throwing her in my arms and giving her the best Jake-style hug I can muster.

"Should've learned, huh? Giving him a chance to do it again was stupid, especially as I know what he's like. I know him." Her eyes hold a thin veil of moisture, and her lip trembles a little as she fights hard with her internal emotions, small tears in the wall of strength she always tries to exude.

"I don't know what to say, but I know it's not as simple as not liking you. He seems to feel something genuinely, maybe even love." I appraise her expression, seeing that wall of impassiveness slide back up.

"Jake's told me pretty much the same, but it doesn't change anything. I can't live my life waiting for him to sort his shit out. I'm done. Last night I finally realized it as I stood considering those devastating blue eyes of his. I'll die alone and unhappy if I don't move on." She shrugs it off and despite being sad for her, I also see her point. She deserves a man who pursues her and loves her completely.

The way Jake does with me?

Don't think about him!

"Leila, why are men so frickin frustrating?" I ask, sitting back down, staring at the hands I drop loosely on my lap.

"Don't lose him, Emma. Jake's an ass who goes into self-destruct mode when he can't handle his emotions, and that's exactly what he did. Marissa did more damage than he likes to admit, and those years of hitting back with women, booze, and drugs are still in there deep down. He's never had to face the consequences of his behavior before. Still, something inside his crazy head obviously snapped because kissing her for the briefest moment was as far as it got before he was running off and agonizing over what he'd done." She stands over me and lays a gentle hand on my shoulder.

I lock eyes with her in wide-eyed silence, the pain a little too acute to form a response.

"I'm not excusing what he did. God knows I was livid beyond belief when he told me. I'm just saying it won't be repeated. He learned a valuable lesson that night. Life without you is unbearable, and he won't ever chance risking it again if he ever wins you back." She pats me on the shoulder and tucks a stray hair behind my ear. My heart is thudding heavily as I absorb every word. Emotion catches in my throat and makes me feel a million times worse than a hangover should.

"You sound like someone who's been talking to Jake." I sniff back a tear, threatening to pour out the rising ache inside me, making my hands tremble.

"Had to return the favor. After all, he did let me cry on him when you drunk weirdos were too passed out to care."

I catch her smiling at me with fondness, and she ruffles my hair childishly.

"Go. Get cleaned up and fresh for the most important heart-to-heart of your life. I need to go." She bends and kisses me on the side of my mouth with a devilish smile. "I love you, girl, and I love that sassy Sarah. We three are so hooking up again!"

With that, she saunters off as though she hasn't a care in the world and heads out the door.

I can't help but admire her. Broken-hearted and as emotionally hurt as me, yet she has her chin held high and a smile on her face as though everything is right in her world.

I could learn a lot from Leila.

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