Page 42 of Wild for You
I try to protest and squirm away, but he only holds me tighter.
“Nope. You’re going to lay here and let me snuggle the hell out of you … No pun intended.” He laughs.
“Jack,” I whine. “I’m bloated and bleeding out everywhere. It’s disgusting. I need my personal space,” I say as I try to shove him away.
But it’s no use. Fighting Jack’s snuggles is like trying to pry your mangled foot out of a bear trap. Once he’s clamped his massive muscular arms around you, there’s no escaping until he’s done. I hate to admit it, but he does make me feel somewhat … safe.
“There you go, just relax and enjoy the oxytocin.”
“The what?”
“It’s the love hormone. Of all the feel-good hormones, it’s my favorite.” He plants another kiss on top of my head and gives my thigh a firm squeeze.
“I don’t know if I consent to this hormone swapping. You see, I have a firm no-love policy.”
He narrows his eyes. “Why on earth would you ever have a no-love policy?”
“Because I don’t need any distractions,” I say as if it’s the most obvious of answers.
Jack looks around the forest surrounding us. “It’s a good thing there aren’t any distractions out here, then.”
I slap him on the chest. “I’m serious, Jack. My work is important, and I’ve only made it this far because of my sharp, distraction-free focus.”
“So, that’s all you want in life?” he challenges me.
“Well, yeah. I guess.” I think for a moment. “I’ve always wanted pure financial freedom so I can do what I want when I want. I never want anyone to dictate my future or hold anything over my head.”
He ponders this for a moment and then speaks. “So, what you’re saying is, you’re a workaholic, so you have the financial freedom and power to do things for yourself?”
I nod. “Exactly.”
“Uh huh.” He places a finger on his lip mockingly. “And exactlywhatdo you do for yourself? What’s so important to you that you need the freedom to do it?”
I try to think but don’t have an answer, so he continues. “And when do you do it? I assume you have to take off the time you work so hard to get, so you can spend it relaxing and enjoying yourself somehow.”
I look down at the ground.
“It sounds to me like you’ve got it all backward. You work like a dog so you can have the freedom to relax, but you never take advantage of the freedom because you don’t want to lose the power you get from your work.” He spins his finger in a circle. “It’s an endless cycle. And you’re going to wake up one day when you’re sixty years old and realize you spent all of your youth chasing something that you weren’t ever supposed to catch.”
I’m stunned. No one has ever seen through me so well and certainly never called me out on it. Memories of my childhood flash through my head, images of my father screaming over B’s on my report card, the way they completely freaked out when I decided not to go to law school or medical school. The way they just let me go, without even putting up an argument. “You don’t know anything about me, Jack.” I dig my nails into his arm to pry it away from me. “Don’t assume just because you’re being nice to me and cuddling me,” I hiss, “that you know anything about me or why I am the way I am.” I want to stand and storm off, but I can’t really do that with the wadded-up t-shirt underneath me, so I scoot away from him.
“That’s because you haven’t told me.” He lays back, resting his head on his palms, looking up at the evening sky. “But don’t worry, I’m not pressuring you. I’ll be here to listen whenever you’re ready.”
“Ugh,” I turn over onto my side in frustration. “Don’t hold your breath on that one.”
“I think you’d be surprised at how long I can hold my breath.” Then he closes his eyes as if everything and nothing has changed between us.
I scrunch my eyes close and will myself to drift off to sleep under the bright full moon night sky.
CHAPTERTWENTY
Jack
The past coupleof weeks have melted together in a blur as I’ve busted my ass finishing the raft. I’ve spent most of my days hauling bamboo downhill to the beach. My muscles scream as I drop the last load onto the firm sand. I knew building a raft wouldn’t be easy, but I underestimated how tedious of a job it would be. I begin braiding more palm leaves to fasten the large pieces together, and my stomach rumbles in pain. I glance down at my abs, which are disgustingly chiseled. The kind of definition you can only obtain through eating zero carbs and utter dehydration.
Fuck, I’ve got to step it up if I want us to make it out of here. In the last few days, I haven’t recorded much footage, only grabbing some B roll of sunrises and sunsets to use as filler. I want to make sure I have at least one full battery when I’m alone on the raft, if for nothing else than to document my last moments on this earth.
I think the solitude is getting to me. I hang my head and scrunch my face, trying to reset my mind. I don’t have time to think like this. I can’t afford it right now.
