Destination Reached

SOPHIA

It had been the craziest thirty six hours of my life, but nothing, nothing, prepared me for seeing Jake in the morning.

I'd slept sporadically since we'd gotten to Abby's, I was crazy jet lagged. I'm pretty sure Jake was too, because I didn't see him on any of my quick jaunts to the kitchen or the bathroom.

In any case, I didn't fully wake up until the next day. Well, I really didn't have a choice. The rooster outside my window had not shut up, as I had hoped he would, and my pillow was not working anymore as an effective sound blocker.

Oh well. I had to get up anyways. It was the first day on the job. Technically, it was a training day. Technically, the whole week was for training. We had to learn all the hiking paths and the ropes courses and all of that terrifying crap I didn't want to do. Why oh why had I let Abby talk me into this?!

My stomach was turning just thinking about it.

With a resigned grumble, I rolled out of bed. My neck was sore. I think I must have slept on it funny or something. Perfect. That was just perfect. Of course, I hadn't unpacked anything yet either so I had to do that. And I hadn't taken a shower since I was in Massachusetts. Which was making feel increasingly disgusting.

I knew with complete certainty that my hair was a greasy mess, actually that may be the only reason it hadn't gotten frizzy yet. The humidity here was insane.

I padded out into the hallway, rubbing my eyes. My head spun with all the things I had to do today. It was a growing list. I had to unpack, take a shower, brush my teeth, brush my hair, eat something, pack a bag for this death job, get dressed, see if—

"Oh— you are awake," Jake's voice broke through my spiral of stress, momentarily distracting me.

"Yeah, that fucking rooster would not shut—" I inhaled sharply, finally taking in the image before me. "Up," I finished faintly, breathless.

Because there was Jake. Jake and his basketball shorts and his non existent shirt. Jake, whose shirtless figure was plain as day in front of my face. Mere inches away. And oh my god, abs. I think I had to swallow a mouthful of drool.

I mean, I'd known he was in shape. He was built like an athlete, that much I could tell. More so now, since he'd caught me yesterday. He'd felt so solid, muscles defined even beneath his loose t-shirt. I nearly blushed at the memory. Crap. Why was I thinking about his muscles at all?! I should not be thinking about his muscles. There were just so many of them, on full display and— I had to stop staring! Was I staring?!

Did he catch me staring?

I had to speak. I had to say something. I had to STOP LOOKING AT HIS ABS!

I suddenly realized what I was wearing. My bunny print pajama shorts and an old Brookline High fundraiser t-shirt. Oh god— I didn't even want to imagine what I looked like in that moment. Unwashed and newly awake. I was about to burst into flames from the sheer embarrassment.

Jake pulled a shirt over his head, and my heartbeat slowly returned to its normal pace. Though, I found myself surprisingly and terrifyingly disappointed that he was now fully clothed.

He jabbed a thumb at the bathroom door, "I just showered, so— um— bathroom's free now." His hint of a British accent got more pronounced when he said um. It was more of an erm. He sounded like he was straight out of Harry Potter. I wanted to swoon. Just a tiny bit.

"Thanks," I said, hurriedly finger combing my hair. I don't think it helped. At all. "Uh— do you know what time it is?"

He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, "6:34."