by Stella
Carl reached down to grab the ball off the floor and put it in the front pocket of his khaki pants. “Maybe. Maybe not. I wouldn’t know because I gave up a long time ago. But I’ve never seen her with anyone other than her best friend. So she either has a rule about dating people she works with, or she isn’t over the ex.” He took the putter from my hand and rounded my desk. “Or, there’s a third option—which would be freaking awesome if it were true—she’s in a lesbian relationship with Jasmine. That’d be hot.”
“Jasmine?” I couldn’t focus long enough to analyze why that had been my only question to everything he said.
“Yeah, her best friend. She’s a junior rep, too.”
I couldn’t move. Hope kept me rooted in place, and shock silenced me.
Once he had the clubs put away in the corner, he turned back around, glanced at my desk, and then picked up my phone. It was an odd thing to do, to grab someone else’s cell and look at it, but I figured maybe he thought it was his and wanted to check before taking off with it.
He set it back down and took a slow step toward the door. “You have some strange friends.”
I wasn’t sure if he was calling himself a friend, considering he wasn’t even on the spectrum of normal, or if he was talking about something else. I was still too stunned to say anything more than, “Huh?”
“Someone named CeeCee just sent you a text. She wants to make two molds of your dick so you can fill all three of her holes at the same time.” With his hand on the doorknob, he paused and peered over his shoulder. “If you want my advice, I’d tell you to sleep with one eye open and one hand over your junk. If you let her make a mold, your dick will be seen by everyone when it’s shown off in court at her trial for your murder. But hey”—he shrugged and opened the door—“that’s your call.”
I was too stunned by the comment about CeeCee’s text to say anything before he closed the door behind him; nevertheless, I’d just found my second ally. And with the knowledge of Jasmine working here, I potentially had a third. I rushed over to my desk, excited to get ahold of her. But that excitement quickly turned to a sour stomach when I noticed my phone.
CeeCee: We should get a mold taken of your dick so I can have my own personal dildo to pleasure myself when you’re not home.
CeeCee: Just think about how hot it would be to have one in my mouth and one in my shitter while you fuck me. It’d be like a threesome, but they’d all be you.
CeeCee: Wait…that would be a foursome, right?
As I read and got caught up on what Carl had seen, more came through.
CeeCee: And if you’re a bad boy, I could beat you with one. Like I’m punishing you with your own dick.
CeeCee: Oh! And then we can do a little role reversal, and I can use it on you while you’re on all fours like a dog. Like a dirty, dirty dog.
CeeCee: That gives a whole new meaning to anytime someone tells you to go fuck yourself LOL!
CeeCee: And if you’re really bad, I can strap it on and make you suck me off.
I couldn’t read any more. I wanted to run from the room screaming, “My eyes! My eyes!” but that wouldn’t be enough. Hell, I doubted bleach would have the power to erase what I’d just read. CeeCee had never given me the impression that she was into me. Had I even suspected it, I would’ve never allowed her to stay at my house. In fact, I wouldn’t have even told her I was moving; I would’ve just quietly packed my things in the cover of night and slipped away without her ever knowing.
But it was too late for that.
I began to wonder if her boyfriend was imaginary.
Unable to look at whatever else she felt the need to text me, I tossed my cell into a drawer and got started on getting Jasmine to my office. At this rate, I’d have to stay until two in the morning just to finish my task list. Now that I thought about it, I didn’t think that was such a bad idea. I was a little scared to go home.
Ignoring the long list of things I needed to accomplish today, I searched the database for Jasmine’s information. It didn’t take long before I had a chat box open and typed out a message. I made sure to keep it short and vague, in the event Lexi was nearby. Then I hit send…and stared at the screen, as if willing a reply to appear.
It did not.
A knock on the door startled me, and in came Lexi’s best friend. I stood to greet her, but the second she looked at me, I held my breath. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open, her chin nearly hitting her chest. There was no way this was a genuine reaction—nobody was this shocked to see someone.
“Oh. My. God. Chris Moore? The Chris Moore? I was not at all expecting to find you here. What a surprise! What an unbelievable, completely unforeseen surprise! I’m shocked. Baffled. Totally speechless.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” I arched a brow at her. “When someone’s speechless, they shut up. So cut the crap. I know Lexi told you I work here.”
“Lexi? Lexi who?”
I rolled my eyes and gestured to the chair across from me for her to sit. “Don’t play dumb, Jazz. Lexi…Alex—whatever she’s going by now.”
“Oh, yeah. Her. We don’t speak anymore. She’s a loser, and I’m too cool to be seen with her. So if you called me up here to pull information from me, you’re wasting your time.”
“I know you two are still close; Carl told me. You can’t fool me—especially by trying to convince me she’s a loser. So stop trying, and you can drop the act. I’m willing to bet you knew I was here long before I was aware of you. There’s no way she left my office last week and didn’t tell you all about it.”
“She might’ve mentioned something, but I can’t be too sure. I only pretend to listen when she talks.”
With my elbows on the desk, I leaned forward. “Are you seriously going to make this difficult? We used to be friends.”
“There’s this thing called girl code. You’re not a girl, so it doesn’t include you. My loyalty lies with Alex no matter how much I happened to like you back in college. Nope. I don’t care how much I think the two of you belong together, you won’t get anything from me.”
It was good to know Jasmine hadn’t changed. “Carl said she isn’t dating anyone. Is that true?”
“I wouldn’t know. I was hit by a car this morning on my way to work. Fucker came out of nowhere going eighty-four miles an hour. It was a miracle I survived, but now I have a concussion and amnesia. So as much as I wish I could confirm that she’s single, I can’t. Sorry.”
I had to bite back my smile. As long as she gave me answers, I couldn’t argue with how she delivered them. “That’s a shame, because I could really use your help. She won’t give me the time of day. I get that she’s mad, but at some point, she has to see I’m not the villain here.”
“I’m by no means a relationship expert, but I’d be willing to say that could be your problem.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if you’re not taking the blame and saying she’s just as much at fault as you are, there’s a good chance you won’t ever get her to talk to you.”
“But it was both of us.”
Jasmine clicked her tongue and sat back in her chair with her hands folded in her lap. It was an illusion. The Jasmine I knew didn’t have a clue how to be ladylike. “Listen, I don’t have to give you any advice. You hurt my best friend and left me to be the one who had to pick up the pieces. There’s only so much ice cream I can eat. But since we used to be friends, I’ll help you out this once. But you better listen, and listen good, because I won’t repeat myself.”
“I’m listening, Jazz.”
“Okay, ready? You were wrong.” She slapped her thigh and sighed. “Well, I’d love to sit and chat and offer more advice, but I’m fresh out. Plus, I don’t work for free. Good luck to you.” When she stood, I snapped my finger and pointed to the chair like she was a dog and I had commanded her to heel.
“Jasmine, sit.” I wasn’t mad, just at the end of my rope—which was evident considering the level of desperation I had to
hit if I were sitting here, taking advice from someone whose number-one dating tip is: don’t.
“Oh, look who found his balls.” She resumed her seat, beaming with pride as if she were talking to a child who’d just discovered there was something else in his diaper. “I was worried you’d left them on the other coast. But it’s good to know you only misplaced them.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know this for sure, because like I said, I don’t talk to that wench. So I can really only go by what you’ve told me, which is that you’ve tried to talk to her several times but have been unsuccessful. But I bet if Chris had tried, he wouldn’t have been able to shut her up. It seems like Passive Patrick needs to go back to California.”
“Ah-ha! So she has talked about me.”
“Not a word.”
“Then how’d you know I was in California?”
“I read it the last time I was in the ladies’ room. You’re a topic of conversation on the back of the door in stall two.” She waved me off with a flick of her wrist. “Don’t worry, the only people who see it are the women on the second floor and Larry. But Larry never talks, he just likes to watch.”
I was convinced this day would never end. Between her and Carl, I wasn’t sure which one was worse. If either of them ever witnessed a crime, the culprit would probably die of old age before the cops had enough information to arrest him.
“I have no idea what you’re even talking about, nor do I care.”
“Why are you even doing this, Chris?” Finally, a glimpse of seriousness came from her. “Why do you care if she talks to you? You two haven’t spoken in over three years, so what difference does it make if she avoids you or not?”
“It’s kind of hard to call someone if you don’t have the correct phone number. And email is out of the question if that was changed, too. I would’ve sent her a letter, but the last address I had for her was an apartment you two shared five years ago. I doubt she would’ve gotten it. So how do you suggest I should’ve gotten ahold of her, Jazz? Oh, but wait.” I held up a finger to stop her in case she thought that was a real question. “My number has always been the same. I still have—and use—the same email address I had back when we dated. My address might’ve changed a few times, but she wouldn’t have needed to resort to that considering the first two avenues of communication were still open. Yet somehow, I’m the bad guy, right?”
It wasn’t often Jasmine was subdued, which would’ve worried me that she was now had I not been so frustrated, to begin with. “I wish I had answers for you, but I don’t.”
“You do, though. You simply refuse to give them to me.”
Should’ve known the softness wouldn’t last long. She crossed her arms and arched her brows, her defiance firmly in place. “You still haven’t answered my question. Why do you care? What’s your endgame here? If you want her back, then just say so. If you want to ease your conscience, then admit it. If you’re trying to avoid an uncomfortable work environment, then you should just stop now. Because I can guarantee you won’t even see her in this building, which would eliminate all possibility of awkwardness without you ever having to say a word.”
“I don’t know.”
Jasmine leaned forward and cupped her hand around her ear. “I’m sorry, what? I didn’t catch that. You don’t know why you want her to talk to you.”
“No. I mean, yes. I know why. I just don’t want to tell you.”
“Then I can’t help you.”
“You weren’t going to help me, anyway.”
“Well, I was, but not anymore.”
I threw my hands in the air, let them land with a hollow thud on top of my desk, and then fell into the back of my leather chair. “You’re impossible. You and Carl both. What good does it do me to have her best friend and her…whatever Carl is, at my disposal if neither of you can help me?”
“Kinda hard to lend a hand when you won’t even tell me what you need assistance with.”
“Getting her to talk to me!” I wasn’t just barely hanging on by a thread; I had let go of that a long time ago. And these two were bound and determined to use it to hang me with.
“Yeah, I got that. But I’m not about to offer her up as a sacrificial lamb without knowing your motivation. It doesn’t matter how annoying I think she is, or how much I wish she’d get lost on her way home and let me have a night of peace without her mind-numbing chatter.”
“I miss her, Jazz. I miss everything about her. And it’s killing me that she’s so close, yet she’s never been further away. Even with years of silence and an entire country between us, it didn’t feel like we were as far apart as we are now.”
“Do you want her back? I won’t tell her, I swear. I just need to know for my own peace of mind. Because I refuse to let you hurt her again.”
“I messed up. I know I did, but you’re not the person who deserves to hear me say that. She is. Life didn’t press pause like we thought it would, and no matter how much we expected the pieces to fall neatly back into place once I graduated, neither one of us did anything to ensure that would happen. I can’t go back in time and fix it. So I’m not going to waste the present worrying about the past. My focus is on the here and now, right this moment. Because she’s my future—always has been. And without her, I don’t have one. So you can dwell on what happened five years ago, she can be angry that I didn’t come back three years ago, but I don’t care about any of that. I moved back here to make things right, and it’d be nice if I had the opportunity to do that.”
Her expression softened, but I wasn’t sure if it was genuine or not. I could never tell when it came to Jasmine. “I think that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. In fact, it almost makes me believe in love. Too bad I don’t have popcorn, because this oughta be one hell of a show.”
“Well, there won’t be a show if you refuse to help me.” I held my breath and asked, “So, will you?”
“Can’t. That would be breaking girl code.” Her eyes brightened. “It’d go against the very foundation we as women stand for if I told you that even though she’s not talking to you, she’s definitely talking about you. I’d be breaking her trust if you knew she’s been a wreck ever since she found out you’re back. The bond between two women is more sacred than anything. We keep more secrets than a priest. So if a man of God wouldn’t break confidentiality to say she’s never stopped loving you, then I certainly won’t be the one who tells you that you still have a chance with her.”
My smile had grown so wide my cheeks ached.
“It’s a damn good thing Alex has me in her life. Not everyone would be as good of a friend as I am. Most would probably tell you to man up and make her talk to you or suggest that you don’t give her the option to run away. But not me. Nope. I’d rather be stoned than go behind her back and advise you to remind her of why she fell in love with you in the first place. And there’s no way in hell I’d ever admit that I don’t blame you. That would be wrong on so many levels. It would be just as wrong if I said I believe you were both at fault. Because even though I think she’d agree if she weren’t still so hurt or angry, she’s my best friend, and that means I have to defend her until my dying breath—regardless if I agree or not.” She grabbed a pen off my desk, scribbled something on a sticky note, and said, “So don’t even think about calling that random number for insider information. Because I’m a good friend. But good try, Chris. You gave it a valiant effort.”
I wanted to thank her, but I couldn’t manage much more than a sincere nod.
And then she dismissed herself from my office, leaving me staring at a note that said, “Not Jasmine’s,” followed by seven digits. At the bottom, she’d written, “And definitely NOT Alex’s.” Just after that, Jasmine had added another number, probably the most important one I’d ever have.
That girl made no sense most of the time.
As much as I wanted to track Lexi down and force her to talk to me, I couldn’t. Unfortunately, I had a job
to do—one that had already been pushed to the side long enough to build my own personal army for Operation Win Back Lexi.
It’d taken me until the end of the day to finish my tasks at work, and although I hadn’t been able to make any progress where Lexi was concerned, I didn’t worry too much about it. I had to be patient—adamant, but patient. Plus, I now had three valuable assets on my side. I had to let it play out; otherwise, she’d know my plan.
I was scared to face CeeCee, but I didn’t exactly have anywhere else to go. I hadn’t checked my phone after tossing it into my drawer at the office, but when I grabbed it before I left, I noticed about a hundred missed calls from my uninvited roommate. The only thing I could come up with to explain this odd turn of events in her behavior was that the Georgia humidity had somehow affected her brain. I wasn’t sure if that was possible, but I was convinced something had happened to her sanity.
I made a mental note to check for any recent cases of encephalitis.
Without a reasonable excuse to avoid her for the rest of my life, I climbed out of my truck and dragged my feet toward the front door. I didn’t drag my feet as much as they just refused to cooperate.
The door had barely closed behind me when a loud shriek carried throughout the house, warning me of the bright-red blur rushing toward me. I didn’t stand a chance. “Oh my God, Patrick. I’ve been a nervous wreck all day!”
That made two of us.
“Please tell me you lost your phone on your way to work,” she pleaded with big eyes.
“Unfortunately, no.”
“I am so embarrassed. I accidentally sent you texts that were meant for someone else.”
“You mean to tell me you purposely sent those to someone?”
She shrugged and glanced down, as if to hide her face. This had to have been the first time I’d ever seen anything other than a smile and sparkly eyes coming from her. “Someone told me I needed to be confident with Christopher. You know, let him know what I wanted because guys don’t like virgins.”
