It's been a week since living with the devil himself.

I've tried to control myself when he pulls his antics and I must say I've been quite successful. I bite my tongue and walk away and that's a lot harder than it sounds.

Now it's the start of the weekend which means that I can finally take a break from this damned suite and head up to the bar. I direct myself to the shower to wash off the tight weight of the week.

I wash the vanilla scented shampoo down my blonde strands then coat it with conditioner bringing my dry hair back to life. I put on a white fitted dress that reaches mid-knee after my long but satisfying shower. I put on an oversized denim jacket to keep myself warm in the light breeze and pull on my favorite pair of white sneakers.

I'm usually a bit more dressy on nights like these but it doesn't hurt to be casual sometimes. I grab my purse and exit my room. I walk down the dark but cozy hallway feeling more liberal with each step I take.

"You clean up nicely." the bored voice goes and I am not in anyway startled because his snide remarks out of nowhere has officially become a thing.

I ignore his words and make my way to the door. Just as my hand touches the knob a throat clears.

I stop.

What in the world does he want?

I turn on my heels to assess what exactly the demon might be needing at this moment. When my eyes behold him they run carelessly over his body just like the first time I ever laid eyes on him.

I clean up nicely but he should take a look at himself.

I'm sure he has but I'm just saying.

He's dressed in a white sheer button-up with black jeans, and two buttons are undone, revealing his taut chest. He's undeniably attractive but that doesn't trump the stench of his attitude.

I fight the urge to stare at him, afraid that a complaint might be made by the end of the night that 'Miss Anderson was being inappropriate'. If I'm lucky maybe he might spice it up and say that I seduced him.

His teasing eyes are glued to mine, emotionless of course; mine, on the other hand, painted in a whore-like lust. I snap myself out of whatever trance I was creating before clearing my throat.

"Yes Mr. Hudson." I respond clinically, ready to leave his suffocating presence.

"Finally, you could just say that I look stunning instead of watching me like some sort of predator." he smirks, walking closer to me. I back away slowly, shifting my glances around the room too embarrassed to look at him any longer.

"Anyways," he continues "Will you miss Anderson be so kind to escort me up to the bar. I have a date and since you're providing me service on this cruise I think you're obligated to." his request is drizzled with arrogance, rubbing it in my face that he has the upper hand.

" I don't think that's necessary you can show up at your date without an escort." I say firmly before leaving and quickly making my way up to the bar, glad he didn't proceed to follow me and make the situation awkward. Hopefully he doesn't run off to Mr. Steph with a bag of lies tonight. After all, it is indeed Friday night and suite workers do get the night off.

I take a seat at the bar and order a scotch on the rocks to compensate for the difficult week I've had. The bartender, a scrawny redhead, smiles thinly while sliding over my drink. I tip the glass mid air towards him in response to his awkward smile. The burning liquid oozes down my throat, making me scrunch my face in pain and disgust.

A cool, refreshing breeze blows through my hair, causing me to shiver a little under my denim jacket. I look around the open bar, taking in the various people who catch my eyes. Some are dressed formally, while others, like me, are dressed more casually.

My gaze lands on bold, arctic blue eyes, and I quickly cast my gaze away without missing a beat to avoid making the situation awkward, but the damage had already been done.

A whistle is released and soon after comes a "blondie". From the direction of the sound I know it is the individual with the daring blue eyes. I slowly turn around praying to God that I'm mistaken.

I mean there are at least fifty blondes at this bar.

When I finally meet with the eyes again the person that holds them gestures me to come over. Hesitantly I step off of the tall bar chair. I exhale loudly focusing my eyes on anything but 'stranger with the blue eyes'

He's seated at a table all alone.

He's handsome too but I would have to look at his face again to back that up as I only passed over his face.

"Hi." I breathe, when I get to the table folding my fingers between each other, as a timidness falls over me at the unpredicted interaction.

"Good evening lovely lady please sit." he says softly with such politeness in his voice along with a British accent. I halt for a moment, contemplating if I want to sit with a stranger but his crystal eyes dare me to, so I recklessly take a seat parallel to him.

I can see more of his features now that I'm seated. Aside from his gorgeous eyes, he is absolutely stunning. His ink black hair is strewn about his head, and his brows are equally intense. His eyes are hooded, lending him a mysterious appearance.

His attire is formal. Black trousers with a white blouse and black blazer topped with a black tie.

I can't help but feel a whole lot underdressed just by sitting at this table with him.

"I just couldn't help but invite the person I just locked eyes with over here to share a drink."He chuckles, and I lightheartedly laugh along with him, though his joke makes me feel more uneasy than amused.

"It's kind of strange but very nice of you. I was just about to play it off or pretend like it never happened."

"Yes love it can be a bit awkward. he says while sipping on his water "I'm Loyt." he introduces himself and I suddenly remember my manners.

"Noah Anderson. I actually work on this ship."I state wanting to make conversation. He lifts his eyebrows in surprise before commenting "Well you must have amazing skills and academic I know these type of cruise lines don't hire anyone."

"It took me hell to get here so I guess--"

"Demanded for the whole bottle." a rather excited voice projects and I'm startled by the familiarity. The voice that I longed to escape from all week.

I turn slightly to my left now coming face to face with Mr. Hudson as he is now seated.

When he recognizes who I am, a look of surprise spreads across his face, and I'm sure it's all over mine as well.

"What are you doing here?" his voice is laced with disgust and I roll my eyes at his immaturity.

"You two know each other?" Loyt asks in confusion switching his eyes from Mr. Hudson and myself.

"Sort of. She works in my suite." Hudson speaks up sounding more laid back and relaxed than I've ever heard.

"That explains it but shall we pop that drink you demanded for Jax boy."Loyt continues, and I immediately feel like I'm imposing, especially with this arrogant pig sitting right next to me. It's unrealistic to enjoy myself with Loyt when someone as cunning as Mr. Hudson is sitting right next to me.

"I should go but thank you Loyt I enjoyed our talk." I say softly but loud enough for him to hear before dismissing myself.

"Love please stay this bottle is big enough for the three of us." Loyt insists looking at me with puppy eyes. As much as I would like to stay and chat, my disgust for Mr. Hudson is much bigger.

I exhale loudly not wanting to let him down but the thought of drinking with Mr. Hudson made me want to throw up.

"It's okay Loyt I wasn't planning on drinking anyway. I'll see you around, goodnight." After bidding my goodbye, I walk away swiftly not wanting to hear another word of persuasion.

"Goodnight miss Anderson." I hear the pig's voice from a distance and I scoff loudly in response gaining a few looks from the other persons at the bar.

I go all the way back to the suite and just lay in bed thinking about nothing and everything at once.

I'm just ready for the next day.

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