Beast (15 page)

Jasmine brought flowers today. A tall glass vase of marigolds, daisies and hydrangeas. She set them on the windowsill in the kitchen so they could get light.

It’s strange to me, seeing such beauty in my dark, dreary loft. There isn’t much softness in my life. There isn’t much light. My world is all concrete walls reinforced by steel beams. But when she comes around, she brings the sun and the moon with her.

We’ve had lunch together almost every day for the past three weeks and after work, she comes home with me most nights and sleeps next to me in my bed. I’m not the kind of person who shares myself easily, but I’ve told her every secret I have and she’s let me in on her most private thoughts and fears. It’s the most beautiful form of torture, having her so close but having to keep my hands to myself.

Tonight, we came to my loft straight from the office. She asked to borrow something to wear while she cooks us dinner; she didn’t want to soil her business suit. She’s had this Nikki Minaj rap song on repeat all evening as she cooks. Now, she’s dressed in one of my old t-shirts, shimmying around my kitchen, her hips swinging, her tiny feet moving in time to the beat. I sit at the kitchen table unable to take my eyes off of her.

I’ve never seen something so damn sexy.

She glances at me over her shoulder while she stirs the pot. She tosses me a frisky wink as she drops the spoon into the sink. Then, she faces me head on, swaying her body slow and seductive. Left, right. Left, right. My cock is ridiculously hard. I don’t know if I’ll survive this meal.

With a playful glint in her eye, she crooks her finger at me, inviting me to join her. I don’t know why, but I ease out of the chair and move slowly towards her. I’m not thinking with my brain. My out-of-control erection is the one making all the decisions right now. My hands touch her hips and she stares up into my face, the look in her eyes morphing into something carnal. I can’t bare the expression on her face. It makes my cock ache to be inside of her, so I spin her around.

Big mistake.

Now, her voluptuous ass rubs against my crotch. My cock thickens against her. We both feel it. Neither of us backs away. She just continues to roll her body against me. My erection jerks against her sensual body. I’m panting as she writhes in my arms. I trail my fingers up the side of her ribs, up her neck, into the roots of her hair. She turns around to face me. Her nipples are hard and pert under the flimsy material of my t-shirt. I want to rip it off of her, bend her over the sink and slide my cock balls-deep into her. She twists her arms around my neck, looking up at me with dark, hungry eyes. I lower my face to hers. Slowly. Slowly.

Fuck it. I’m gonna kiss her.

Jasmine jumps back, pulling out of my arms. “The food!”

That’s when I notice the smoke and the stink of charred vegetables wafting through the air.

It takes me a second to jump into action, opening the windows to let the smoke out as Jasmine tosses the burnt veggies into the garbage. By the time we’ve dealt with the mess, my cock is under control and Jasmine is back to acting like nothing just happened between us.

We both got carried away. But now, the moment is over and we’ve resumed the requisite distance. We
are
‘just friends’ after all.

She changes the music to a soulful jazz playlist, then prepares two plates and joins me at the kitchen table. “Grilled tilapia with couscous,” she announces proudly as I pour us each a glass of water.

She looks happy and carefree. She’s enjoying herself.

But I feel guilty. I’ve been slipping lately, putting my hands on her body, letting myself indulge in the closeness of her.
She had me dancing to a Nikki Minaj song, for crying out loud.
I can’t let myself get too comfortable.

So of course, I have to go and fuck up the entire evening. “Does Pretty Boy know where you are tonight?”

She purses her lips and guilt flares in her eyes as she scratches her chin. “Nope.”

My heart thumps against my ribcage. “Are you hiding me from him?”

“No, just didn’t tell him where I was going. That’s all.” She picks up her fork and pushes her fish around on her plate.

“So, why do you look so guilty right now?” I press, bringing both of my elbows to the table.

She swallows hard. “I don’t feel guilty. Nothing to feel guilty about. Chess isn’t my boyfriend. And you and me are just friends.”

“Yeah,” I say shaking sense back into my head. “Right. We’re just friends.”

We sit in silence avoiding eye contact for a while. But I just have to know. “What does he mean to you, Jasmine? Chess…what does he mean to you?” My voice is serious now and I hate the hint of desperation clinging to my tone.

She shrugs slowly, pursing her lips together. “I…I could be happy with him,” she says hesitantly.

“Do you love him?” I press. I’ve brought the conversation to the table, I might as well keep going till I have the answers I need.

“I could be with him,” she says softly. “I can see myself with him…I-I could be
satisfied
with him…Yes, I love him.” Her words are strangled by uncertainty.

I feel something bubbling up inside of me, something I can’t control. “You’re lying.”

Her eyes snap to me. “Excuse me?”

“You’re lying,” I repeat.

“How dare you – ”

I won’t relent. “We both know that you don’t love that guy.”

She sits in stunned silence for a long moment before she pushes her chair back, standing to her feet. “I should get going.”

I snap my stupid mouth shut and watch as she grabs her things.

Why the hell am I not trying to stop her as she walks out the door?

Liam is standing in the doorway to my office with two takeout containers and chopsticks. “I hope you like sushi,” he says as he steps over the threshold.

I shut my laptop warily, my eyes unable to meet his. “I have lunch plans today.”

He freezes midway down into a chair. “Oh.”

A dark cloud dims his eyes and I realize that he probably thinks that I’m meeting with Chess, so I clarify. “Ruthie’s taking me to this new restaurant on Broadway.” Not that I have to justify my plans to him.

He straightens, standing tall. “Okay. Should I wait for you after work? We could go for a jog.”

I sigh, tugging on the ends of my hair. “I’ve been thinking about what you said last night.”

“What I said?”

“About me not telling Chess about you…”

“Oh?” His eyebrows rise in question.

“You’re right. I can’t keep…doing this…with you. It’s not fair to Chess. He likes me and I’ve been…”
Falling deeper and deeper for you
. “…I’ve been unfair to him.”

Liam shakes his head moving closer to me, leaning over my desk. “Jasmine, we haven’t done anything wrong. We haven’t crossed any lines.” His rough, calloused hand cups my cheek and I lean into his touch. I crave it. It’s the touch of a man. So different from Chess’s soft, manicured palm.

I’ve been stringing Chess along, letting him shower me with affection when he never really had a fair shot. At least not as long as Liam is in the picture. I open my mouth to tell Liam that but just then, Ruthie pops into the doorway.

“Hey Liam,” she says suspiciously her eyes moving from him to me and back again.

His hand drops away from my face and he deposits the sushi on my desk. He turns towards Ruthie. “Ruth – good to see you. I was just leaving.” Then, he looks back at me and tips his chin towards the sushi. “In case you get hungry later.”

“Thank you,” I say in a small voice.

Is this wrecking him as much as it’s wrecking me?

His eyes give nothing away. His face is blank, devoid of all emotion. “Goodbye, Jasmine.” And I know exactly what he means – whatever it is we had between us is over.

He nods, acknowledging Ruthie as he walks away.

My friend moves closer to my desk, curiosity pinching her eyebrows. “What was
that
all about?”

My heart bends as I watch Liam walk away. But it doesn’t break because I’m done pining over a man who has no feelings for me.

Ruthie stretches her arm across the table and squeezes my hand. “Stop denigrating yourself, Jazz. You’re not crazy for falling for him. You’re a woman.”

I look up at her with blurry eyes. “What is
that
supposed to mean?”

She shrugs. “We love things that are unlovable and try to save things not worth saving.”

Fuck – why does that resonate so hard with me?

When Liam walked out of my office, Ruthie had questions. I’d expected them. This whole situation between me and Liam came as a total shock to her. She was absolutely floored to learn that Liam Cartwright is Mr. One-Night-Stand, the man I’ve been obsessed with for the past two years.

“I’m really proud of you for putting your foot down, Jasmine,” she says sympathetically. “It’s really hard to walk away from someone you care about. And you deserve so much better. You deserve a guy who will walk across burning coals to give you the world…A man like Chess Davidson,” she adds with conviction.

Chess.

Now that I’ve squared away this situation with Liam, there’s no reason why I can’t make a go of it with Chess. He’s been nothing but patient with me. I owe it to myself to give him a chance.

I have to be realistic, sensible.

Chess is the realistic, sensible choice.

I scoop my glass off of the table and take a long swig of my white wine. “I guess you’re right.”

She chuckles. “You
could
sound a little bit more enthusiastic about it. We’re talking about a tall, handsome, all-American man with success and ambition and enough charm to melt the granny-panties off of a nun. What’s not to swoon about?”

She gets me to laugh despite the feeling that an elephant is sitting on my chest.

“You should call him,” she says sticking a cheese-dipped pita square into her mouth.

I sigh heavily. “I should.”

She arches an eyebrow suggestively. “You
should
.” She tips her chin towards my phone sitting on the table between us.

“Right
now
?” I say, my eyes widening in disbelief.

“No time like the present,” she insists.

I roll my eyes up to the ceiling before snatching my phone and standing up. “Okay.”

“Where are you going?” she protests.

“To make the phone call,” I say. “
In private
.”

“You’re no fun, Jazz,” she calls after me with a pout as I walk towards the washrooms. “No fun at all.”