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We both strip in the back of his car, throwing on soft shorts and tank tops. “Wait!” I scream, causing Mark to slam on the brakes.
Ezra falls to the floorboard with a groan. I bust out laughing, because her shorts are halfway up her legs, which are sticking up, and she’s glaring upside down at me since she landed on her head. “Take us to Kristie’s!”
Mark swears under his breath as I pull Ezra up. “You two going to act right, or?” Mark trails off.
Ezra and I look at each other, trying to contain our laughter but fail miserably. “We’ll be good, Marky Mark.”
He sighs, throwing the car into park. Ezra goes first, stumbling out, and I take a miscalculated step, landing on my ass. Pushing myself up, brushing off the help of my friends, I walk into Kristie’s, the only twenty-four-hour grocery store we have in town. Ezra grabs a shopping cart and I jump into it as she pushes me around. Mark is walking behind us like the father who can’t get his kids under control.
“Marco,” Ezra sings.
Mark glares at us, crossing his bulging arms. “First of all, no more nicknames out of you two.” He counts on his fingers as he tells us what we can call him. “Mark, Marcus, or Mr. Kelly.” He smirks at the last name.
“Okay, Mr. Kelly,” Ezra says, intimidating Mark's voice.
“Y’all are trouble,” he grumbles, but smiles.
“Anyways, can you get theses?” She points to the bag of chips at the top. He shakes his head. “Fine. We can do this.”
She pulls me out, candy and snacks falling around my body. “I’m going to climb on your shoulders.”
I giggle as I squat down, she climbs up, pushing on my head a little too hard, causing my neck to ache. When I rise, I take a step sideways before repositioning myself in front of our chips. Ezra snags them and does a victory fist pump before I let her down. Then I sit down on the ground, my head spinning a little.
“Jasmine, come on,” Mark says.
“Can’t. Just leave me here. It’s got air conditioning and chips. I’ll be fine. Save yourself!” I dramatically fall onto my back.
Mark chuckles, lifts me up, and I snag my phone out. “Smile, Marky Mark.” He throws an award-winning smile as I make a duck face. “Perfect!” I screech as he drops me into the cart. “Smile, Ezra.” She glares and I snap the picture, and then I position the camera so we’re both in it. Laughing, I upload all the pictures from this night to Instagram as they check out and push me out to the car.
Tonight is one of my favorite nights ever. I have my two best friends with me. And look at that, we didn’t even get kicked out of the grocery store. Score.
EASTON
She came home. I had managed to avoid her and now she is here. Less than thirty feet away from me. My body hums as I watch her. My traitorous sister is currently walking with her to the cave. For someone who lives by the law of loyalty, she sure wasn’t loyal to me.
I had finally gotten over her. Mostly. Okay, not at all. But it was easier with her not right in my face. I am going to have to ignore her. I can do that. Just pretend like she’s not here. I’ve done it before.
She’s wearing a red bikini. Red. I bite my fist. My anger toward her has melted and grown into longing. Jasmine is the one fucking girl I can’t forget. And trust me, I have tried. I tried moving on with other women. Drank until I blacked out. It had been two years since I last talked to her. I wanted to go to her, but why should I? And what would I have said? Sorry I was a dick with a broken heart, but I’d like to try again? No. Definitely couldn’t do that. My ego wouldn’t allow it. So instead, I just let her drift. But now she is back, it’s fair game.
“Quit being a creeper and go talk to her.” Nixon smacks my head as he walks by me.
“It’s not that simple. My last words were, fuckyou, Snitch,” I reply, following him up to my room.
That isn’t exactly true, but I’m not about to admit the weakness I showed that night to this asshole. We sit down in the gaming chairs, passing a joint back and forth. “Bro, you really have a way with words,” Nixon pops off.
“Yeah? Well, how about I have a way with your face using my fist?”
We both grin while I kick his ass at COD. “Talk to her at the party tonight.” I nod. I could do that.
Question is, will she talk to me?
CHAPTER 23
JASMINE
Family get-togethers. I’d really missed these. They said to dress semi-formal. So here I am, in a strapless red jumper. It is formfitting, hugging my hips, showing off the swells of my breasts, a matching red bow tapered around my waist, and I pair it with black pumps. My hair has been straightened and my makeup is light.
Monroe has on a royal blue romper that has a sheer skirt attached, adorned with gold heels and jewelry that lays against her tanned skin. She is dancing around Nixon who is wearing navy blue slacks and a light blue button-up. And, of course, his imported loafers. I laugh when I think about the time Monroe spilled coffee on his last pair. I’ve never seen a grown man throw a fit until then.
