by Cole, R. D.
Me: Santa made an extra stop here. Thx. Grace <3’s her swing.
I stare at the screen for about ten minutes before giving up. Wishing for her to text isn’t going to help. Placing my phone on the coffee table, I walk back to the kitchen to grab another plate of food before Mom puts all of it away. She really outdid herself this Christmas and even brought home a pecan pie from the diner. Add a cup of coffee and my taste buds are in heaven. Taking a sip I hear my phone buzz and almost burn the shit out of myself from trying to run toward it. I really hope it’s Jazz and not someone else. Thankfully, I didn’t burn my tongue in vain. Seeing her name on my screen has me smiling like an idiot. Mom just shakes her head and continues to put the food away.
Jazz: Goodie. I hope ur not mad about yours. U R hard to shop 4.
Now that catches me off guard. Sitting there my eyes land on the red envelope on the table. I’m nervous and excited about what she bought me because I don’t want to read too much into it. But why would I be mad? Standing, I walk over and pick it up. Opening the Christmas card, I see a gift card to Best Buy for a thousand dollars. What the fuck? I can’t accept this. Reading the card I see her note.
Don’t be mad. It’s the least I could do after everything you’re doing for me.
P.S. If you try to give it back I’m setting it on fire in front of you.
I text Jazz and tell her that she’s in trouble and I might put her in an asylum, plus thank you. She doesn’t text back of course, so I decide to call her cute stubborn ass tomorrow and every day after until I get in touch with her. I’m not sure when she plans on coming back to Mobile, so I’ll ride by her place every day until I see her. It can’t hurt.
With my mind made up, I enjoy my time with Grace and my mom. I can tell Mom is still uncomfortable about the gift Jazz gave her, but she’s also excited about getting a spa day. Before I go to sleep, I text Jazz one more time to say goodnight. When my phone lights up, I feel the eagerness build until I see one of my childhood friends name across the screen.
“What’s up, nutsack?” Besides Chanda, Ryan was one of my closest friends growing up. After high school he started working with his uncle at a local mechanic shop while I went to college, which has caused us to grow apart.
“Not much, dipshit. What you doin’ tomorrow? I got a sick new board and want to take it for a spin. Wanna go hit the slab with me and a few others? You know, since you got that big ass nose out of them books maybe we can get you laid.” There are always several girls that hang out at the skate park trying to either score some dope or some dick. Chanda was one of them.
He laughs and I just shake my head even though I know he can’t see me. I’d hate to get him and David in the same room. They’ll either become best friends or worst enemies.
After I agree and hang up, I lay my head down wondering what Jazz is up to. It feels like forever since my lips have touched hers and tasted her or heard that sweet moan that causes my hair to stand up and my dick to rise at attention. With her face the last thing I see behind my eyelids, I have a very vivid dream, which causes me to say fuck it the next morning and sleep in.
The passing days have been just as grey as my mood since I left Dr. Whitney’s office. I decide to keep everything he said to myself for now and just act normal. However, my mom sees through my façade and calls me out. I just blame it on being tired and leave it at that.
I decide to head home the day after Christmas to escape Mom’s inquisitive stare and because Jax took Tru up to Atlanta for a surprise. He bought her son Brian’s headstone, and it’s already been placed with a beautiful flower arrangement to decorate the winter ground. I saw a picture and my heart just broke for Tru all over again when I gazed at the granite and bronze teddy bear swinging beside his name. He even had his footprints placed on it.
Tru believes they’re headed to actually make the down payment and to visit, and I wish I could see her face when she finally sees it. She also took her new baby and other Christmas gifts with her. My brother, being the genius he is, decided to get her a puppy. And not just any puppy, but an African Rhodesian Ridgeback named Hero. He’s so adorable with his big brown eyes and long, coffee colored fur, but I can tell he’s going to be massive when he’s full-grown. His paws are huge. Jax had said he wanted something to scare the shit out of anyone that might be a threat to Tru while he’s in med school the following year. I’m happy for both of them, but jealous at same time too.
I pull into my apartment and decide to forgo getting my bags because honestly I couldn’t give a fuck. If someone wants it that bad, then be my guest. Walking inside the first thing I notice is the poinsettias Mason brought me the night we made our agreement. Noticing they’re dying, I freshen up the water and place them back on the table. The red vibrant colors are beautiful, and I find myself in a daze while I stare at them. Mason. His name runs through my mind, and I find myself wanting his company even though I’ve been avoiding him since our dinner. Am I really ready to compromise what we have for sex? Yes, he’s a good kisser but after we cross that line what lies ahead? Will he look at me differently? Will he change his mind about claiming to be the baby’s father? After everything with Oliver I’m just so unsure of myself, especially when it involves me getting naked. My confidence that was already dented is now cracked. No matter how well I dress, that scar feels visible to the world. I’m also scared of the hurt that could follow and ruin this relationship with Mason. He’s become my best friend since Tru spends most of her time with Jax. With the new health issues hanging over my head, I don’t want or need any heartbreak. Literally.
After a few more minutes of deep thinking, I decide to text him. Let’s face it. I miss him and the way he makes me feel—desired and pretty. No, scratch that. He makes me feel beautiful … and like a normal person, not someone to coddle. That’s something I have rarely felt growing up. I have always been the fragile one in the family and everyone constantly tried to coddle me. I’ve got news for them. Jasmine Coleman is not fragile and will not break easily.
Digging in my purse for my phone, I remember that I threw it in my luggage before I zipped it up. Geez, I have been out of it. Usually that friggin’ thing is stuck to my ear for so long it’s sweaty or my fingers get a cramp from constantly texting. Oh well. I guess my luggage is saved from the hands of a thief.
Slipping my black flats on, I grab my keys and head outside. The cold wind causes my blonde hair to block my vision as I walk toward my car. Grabbing the long strands and pulling it to the side, I see Mason’s truck parked a few spaces down from mine. My breath catches and I feel the grey cloud that has been following me lift with just the thought of him being here. Fuck my phone. I have the real thing.
I see his dark head get out of the driver’s side and even though I want to smile I don’t, not until I see his reaction. Maybe he’s pissed at me for avoiding him or for his gift. When he smiles and shows me those sexy ass dimples with his deep green eyes lighting up, it causes my body to hum. I launch my body into his lean strong arms and kiss the shit out of him. It’s primal and rough because I can’t help the feelings he triggers in me—the burning in my core that has me wanting to eat him alive and keep him with me every day. You know the euphoric feeling you get when you see the perfect shoes and it’s the last pair that happens to be your exact size? It’s way better than that.
I feel his fingers press into my back as he holds me up against him, and my lower half clenches with anticipation. I lick his lower lip and then kiss his cheek before I make my way to his earlobe. Damn it. He’s tasty everywhere. Feeling naughty and unashamed, I say huskily, “Let’s go inside.”
“Yes, Mason. Let’s go inside where you can introduce me to this sexy ass Betty. Dude … you’ve been holding out on me.”
I hear the voice but it takes me a minute to decipher where it’s coming from. Looking straight ahead over Mason’s shoulder I see a guy I don’t recognize. Even though he’s wearing a beanie I can see his hair is bleach blond and reaches his ears. He’s
pale, but not sickly looking, and he has gauges in his ears. The rest of him is covered because of the truck parked between us. His blue eyes look at me over the roof of the truck, smiling, while he smokes a cigarette.
Mason places me on my feet but doesn’t let me go as he smiles down at me. “Sorry, Jazz. This is Ryan. A friend of mine.”
“Friend? Try best fucking friend ever. Taught him everything he knows.” Ryan winks and walks over toward us. Now that I’m on my feet I can’t see him over the truck.
When he comes into view I notice he’s slender and has a similar build to Mason. Good looking but he has nothing on the guy to my right. I used to love checking out guys like him, but for some reason he has no effect on my libido. I won’t dwell on it right now because I still have Mason’s taste on my tongue. After that little appetizer, I’m ready for my entree. It looks like that’s going to have to wait. Again.
I push my shoulders back and show my confident side. I love attention from guys, plus it makes me feel normal and not like a scarred, fragile girl. “Well hello, Ryan. I’m Jasmine AKA Jazz.” I smile at him and feel Mason’s strong arms tighten on me like a vice. The cold weather cannot penetrate the heat he’s surrounding me with. “What made y’all stop by?” I glance up and Mason is watching me. Love it! Just the effect I wanted.
“Well, we’re headed to beat up some pavement, but Mason said he had to drop something off and needed to catch you home. Or some shit like that. But I’m glad we stopped ’cuz I haven’t seen Mason with a girl since Chanda. I was starting to worry.”
Chanda’s name causes me to pause while thoughts of her touching Mason play in my mind. I had no idea they used to date, and I feel jealousy simmer below the surface. I knew I didn’t like that girl. Taking a deep breath, I pull away from Mason and start walking back to my apartment. “You two want to come in?” I don’t wait for a reply and keep walking.
“Sure. If you don’t mind. We have time.” Mason’s voice close behind me causes a secret smile to form on my face as I walk inside and hold the door open. I glance up and he winks as he walks by, taking off his jacket. I watch his ass shamelessly and wish I were the denim that encases it so snugly. My jealousy has evaporated with the heat that flows up to my cheeks.
Hearing a throat clear, I turn and see Ryan watching me with a smirk and nodding his head before strolling past me. I roll my eyes and he laughs loudly before he jumps over my couch and makes himself at home. Geez! This guy reminds me of David.
“What the hell, dude!” Mason hits Ryan’s feet off my couch. I really don’t care but I won’t say anything. Angry Mason is so rare and hot! Watching the curl of his lip and crease in his brow, followed by the intensity of his dark green eyes has me contemplating pissing him off more, but his playful and sensitive side causes me to feel warm all over. I’ll just take both and enjoy them.
Mason sits beside Ryan while I head into the kitchen and grab a water. I need to cool off since attacking Mason is off limits due to company. “Drink?” I have to holler because Ryan has already turned on the TV. Is he deaf or some shit? He certainly knows how to blend in and make himself at home.
“Hell yeah!” Ryan sits up and rubs his palms eagerly together. “Bring me a brewski, woman.”
Before I can answer, Mason throws his hands up in frustration before he turns toward Ryan. I laugh quietly because I think he’s forgotten that I grew up with brothers and David. “Dude! Stop. She’s not your fucking slave.” Ryan seems to piss Mason off a lot. Maybe having this guy around will benefit me. I’ll just have to throw him out soon because my libido is kicking into overdrive. “Besides, she doesn’t have any beer here.” Mason looks at me apologetically, and I smile and shrug while bringing them both waters.
“What? No beer? Why not? I mean it’s cool if you don’t drink and all, but living alone in this stylish pad I just figured you would have some beers left over from parties or somethin’.” Mason’s still glaring at Ryan, so he grabs his water and holds his hands up surrendering. “I was only playing. Calm the hell down.”
Walking around the couch, I slip off my shoes and plop into Mason’s lap. I’m rewarded with a grunt and strong arms wrapping around my middle. Geez, he’s fun to be around. Even this little bit of closeness is causing my earlier mood to be completely forgotten. “So, where were you two headed again? Pavement slapping or something?”
Ryan nods while taking a drink of his water. “Hell yeah, Betty! Going to slap it around and own that shit.” He must see my perplexed look because he finally explains what I want to know. “Skateboarding, babe. Hitting that pavement hard with the stick. But only if Mason here promises to stay out of the ER. Pussy used to live there once a year.”
Hearing that word has me hitting his leg. He just laughs but at least he apologizes. “Sorry. I forgot how chicks don’t like my favorite word.” He takes off his beanie and shakes out his platinum blond hair. I notice one half is shaved while the other half flips chaotically. He sees me looking and winks. I just roll my eyes because he’s so like David it’s weird and funny. I can’t wait to get them together.
“Not as often as you asshole.” I can feel Mason’s warm breath across my neck and hear the smile in his voice. He’s never been a big talker. When he does speak, his words and voice always have me listening. And when I talk about anything, and I mean anything, he always listens. His expressions are real and not some two-faced bullshit that guys like to use while trying to get in my pants. You know … the cocky smile and eyes that eat you alive, knowing the guy wouldn’t hear a word coming out of your mouth even if you told him something important like “hey I think gonorrhea infested aliens just landed and demand all men cut off their penises.” Yeah, Mason has always listened to me. Plus, he’s always making me laugh and easing my worries. Even if he jokes about my size, which usually pisses me off. Size doesn’t matter. It’s how you work it, right? Well, that works for me and believe me, I work it. I want to be noticed and not looked over like I don’t matter.
My family is so smart and they all seem to know what they want out of life. Not me. I have no friggin’ clue. I’ve never been a brainiac like Jax or good with sports like Drew. Kenzie is an awesome writer and Cohen has the world under his fingertips. Me? Sports were off limits. I hated school and the only reason I’m in College is for the experience and because my parents forked out a shitload of money to give me the best in life. I’d most likely be dead without them. I can’t write a grocery list down, much less a story. And I’ll never be as awesomelicious as Co. So ever since I grew a set of boobs and an ass that looks great in jeans, I’ve relied on my looks for attention. Is it shallow? Hell yeah! Am I vain? Hell No! I know I’m not the prettiest thing out there, but I do have fashion sense and as long as my feet fit into some kickass stilettos, I can pretend I’m at model height.
Mason has always treated me like I’m special, but I’ve only realized it lately. I don’t think he knows about my heart condition because he has never babied me. Honestly, he’s been my ear—someone I can gossip and rant to without judgment. Always knowing when to speak or when to shut the hell up and let me vent. And I vent a lot. About everything. Well, maybe not everything. I’ve never told him about my past relationship. I’m good at keeping secrets and that is one I hope to take to the grave. I did tell him about my classes and that time I walked into the guy’s bathroom the first day of school. That was hilarious and mortifying at the same time. I just said a few choice words and rushed out as fast as I could while laughter followed. I’ve even bitched about clothes and prices that seem re-donk-u-lous for a piece of clothing no bigger than a hand towel.
The point is he’s always listened and only gave advice when I asked. He notices me. And not like a brother or family member would. Like I really matter. Why am I just now seeing how he’s always made me feel significant? Is it because of the pregnancy and my sexually frustrated body? Maybe. This comfortable peace I feel right now while sitting in his lap is the first I've felt since our dinner. But do I want to ruin
it with sex? Or do I want to try an actual relationship with him? I don’t know.
“Hey. Where’d you go?” His lips caress the skin along my earlobe and I shift in his lap. The bulge in his pants is evidence enough that I affect him. Pregnant or not. I wonder if he notices my pooch and round belly that’s developed. Goodness knows I have. I’m only a week from my fourth month mark and I know it’s about to get real.
I shift in his lap slowly and turn, enjoying the way his breath hitches. My face is so close to his I can taste his minty breath on my tongue. “Nowhere. Just picturing you on a skateboard,” I lie and shrug innocently. When his eyes focus on my mouth again I turn around to address my new friend while internally doing cartwheels. Being desired is so awesome. “So, Ryan, how come I’ve never met you before? I mean, I’ve known Mason for a while and not once has he mentioned you.” I pointedly look at him and arch my brow.
I learn a lot about Mason during their visit and enjoy every aspect of this new knowledge. In fact, it has made my decision easier. I want to hear him play the harmonica and see him skateboard or slap pavement as Ryan calls it. I also learn that he dated Chanda his sophomore year. My jealous bitch peeks her head out, but I give her some chocolate and she returns to her hidey-hole and reality TV series. As Ryan continues to rant, he mentions he’s in a band and I get excited because … well... because it’s so amazeballs.
“You’re in a band? That’s so stinkin’ cool! What instrument do you play?” Knowing my smile is probably as cheesy as Velveeta I still can’t stop. I’ve always loved music. Country is my favorite of course, but any music that causes my imagination to surface I’m hooked. Listening to music alone in my room because all my friends were doing something I couldn’t was my escape.
“Drums, baby.” He winks and sits back, stretching his baggy jean clad legs out and crossing at the ankles. He places his hand behind his head before he continues, “I rock that fucking shit too. In fact we got a new gig and on New Year’s. We’re playing there for the first time. You two should come and please, please, bring friends. Jazz, not you, Mason. All your friends are dudes and ugly as fuck. Of course I’m the exception. I talked to Chanda already and she’ll be there.”
