Page 52 of OneTime Lovers
“Is that the bad publicity you spoke about on the island?”
“Yes, most of it was around that time, but the media have always been there following my family. I wasn’t always the charming, well-adjusted man you see before you today.”
Smiling as his description of himself, I add, “You mean the arrogant, cocky, frustrating man.” I like hearing him chuckle again in my ear. The sound has the ability to spread warmth through my veins. Dangerous levels of warmth, spreading all over my body not only where we are touching.
And that’s my cue to move, it’s getting late. I don’t want our new friendship to be tested by us ending up in bed having wild, crazy, exceptionally satisfying sex. I move to sit up and put some distance between us, then turn to look down at Scott saying, “I really should be going home, it’s getting late.”
“Sure, let me walk you,” he says, jumping up from the sofa.
“No, Scott. It’s fine. It’s not far to my place.”
“Jas, I’m not going to let you walk home by yourself at night. I don’t care how far it is or isn’t.”
I like his response. “C’mon, then I can point out some local restaurants and bars you might like.”
“Would that be so I don’t turn up at your bar again, spoiling your girls’ night out? It’s okay. Luke has warned me now, Friday girls’ night at Benny’s is not to be gatecrashed, unless invited.”
“Absolutely. Luke and Blake understand the drill and if you’re good and you follow the rules, you might even get invited to join us occasionally, the same as them.”
“Wow, I feel privileged,” Scott says as he stands watching me put on my previously discarded heels. Then picking up my bag, I’m ready to go as Scott grabs his keys from the hall table and we leave the apartment.
Ten minutes later, we are outside my apartment building after strolling the two blocks, still busy with people visiting the many local eateries and bars. I show Scott my favorite bakery around the corner from my apartment, telling him they do the best chocolate croissants and further along on the opposite side of the street my favorite Italian restaurant, Papa Gio’s.
“So, this is you. Good to know,” Scott says, looking up at my building.
“Yes, this is me,” I say, feeling awkward for the first time this evening. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
“Yep, and thanks again for everything you did with the apartment. It really is fantastic.”
Smiling under his praise, I say goodnight and Scott bends to kiss me lightly on the lips, not the cheek. My heart rate races, even though his touch is featherlight.
All night, I’ve been trying to keep this thing between Scott and me on a friendship level, but this kiss is not a kiss between friends. It hints at so much more.
Turning quickly, I run up the steps into my building before I decide to throw caution to the wind and drag Scott inside with me.
No, it’s much better if we remain friends for the moment.
Chapter 26
Jasmine
Three Days Later
Newsalertsflashacrossmy TV screen, warning of the impending storm as I sit on my sofa, glued to cable news.
I’ve been closely tracking the progress of the storm over the last twenty-four hours and up till a couple of hours ago I thought I could handle it, but now I’m not so sure. Panic is starting to seep into every cell of my body my heart rate beginning to race. I run through some breathing exercises.
In the past, Lily or Cassie have been with me, keeping my stress levels under control, but tonight I’m alone. Lily is away this week with work and earlier today when Cassie offered to come over, stupid me said I’d be fine. The reality is now hitting me hard. I am far from fine, and it’s too late. The storm is here based on the gusts of wind rattling my windows.
I stare wide-eyed at my flatscreen TV as if knowing what’s coming will help. It’s not an exaggeration to admit I’m terrified. I picked the wrong damn storm to test out my newly held belief that I could pull on my big girl panties and tough out the storm by myself. Foolishly, I thought the experience in the Bahamas had somehow cured me. Damn astraphobia.
I huddle further under my favorite fluffy blanket as I sit terrified on my sofa, hoping the damn stupid blanket will make me feel safer. A fluffy blanket is not going to protect me from the dire warnings of the cable news anchor coming to me via another weather alert flashing on the screen. A text pings on my cell, which is clasped tightly in my hand. I peel back my fingers to check the screen, it’s from Scott.
Scott:Hey, Jas, just wanted to check you’re okay with the storm coming?
Jasmine:Not really.
I’m so pathetic. I can barely text my hand is shaking.
