by Jayce Carter
Jasmine tried to smile but knew it didn’t reach her eyes. “I needed a little air.”
Finn didn’t speak, his back still to Trent, his gaze lingering on her.
There was a question there, one he didn’t need to ask.
Just what the hell did she want?
It was an opening, an offer, a question. He wanted to sit her down and have the talk. He wanted to find out if she was ready to try things, if she was ready to move forward. But…
Jasmine didn’t want to have that talk. She didn’t want to have to voice anything in her head, especially because she just didn’t know.
Now that Finn wasn’t touching her, she could think. Her brain went back to all the times she’d watched her mother stare at her stepfather, that love-drunk expression that had her putting up with everything he’d done.
Jasmine couldn’t be that person.
Love destroyed people. It trapped them. It tore pieces away until there was nothing left.
“You ready to get back, Jas?” Finn asked in that calm voice of his, yet it scraped across her body like spikes.
She swallowed past a suddenly dry throat. “No. I’m not ready.” For anything.
His eyes hardened and he pressed his lips together.
Trent spoke up, seeming to have missed all the tension and underlying meanings. “Don’t worry, Finn, I’ll drive her home when she’d ready.”
Unasked questions laced Finn’s features as he stared at Jasmine. “Is that what you want?”
Even though she knew it was a mistake, even though she didn’t want anything to do with Trent, Jasmine did the safest thing and nodded.
Finn shook his head, tearing his gaze from hers. “Sure. Just like always.” He turned and walked back into the restaurant, not slamming the door, not stomping his feet.
No, not Finn.
Still, his face had held an accusation she couldn’t deny.
She’d sworn they wouldn’t end up here again, that they wouldn’t have this same fight they’d had time and time before, that she’d resist him.
And yet there she was, falling for him all over again.
* * * *
Go to sleep, you idiot. It was past midnight, and Finn should have been in his nice warm bed a while before. Instead, he paced the house like some worried parent waiting for their wild teen to return home.
But Jasmine wasn’t a teen and his feelings about her certainly weren’t parental.
He wanted to throttle her ass for her behavior. He wanted to shake her, force her to wake up, to realize she was acting foolish. He knew she cared about him.
Or, hell, maybe he was an idiot. The thought had crossed his mind more than once over the years. Maybe he was seeing things that weren’t there. Maybe he was imagining feelings she didn’t have because he wanted it so badly.
Which was pretty damned pathetic. Almost as much as him staying up and waiting for a woman who had rejected him for another man.
Damn it.
Why couldn’t he just let her go? Why did it have to be her that occupied his thoughts?
Headlights lit up the front of his house and spilled in through the window.
A small, low car. It was hard to tell with the glare of the headlights, but he was pretty sure it was Trent’s little sports car. It had to be. Who else would be pulling up to his place at this hour?
Her coming home eased his anger for a moment, until he reminded himself that just because she hadn’t slept over at Trent’s didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean they hadn’t—
He cut that thought off immediately. The last thing he needed was to consider anything in that direction, because, as it turned out, he was a very jealous man.
Maybe this was a mistake. How were they going to live together if he couldn’t even stand the idea of her out with another man?
Could he really watch Trent coming in and out of her place? Could he remain friends with the man if Finn knew he’d been with Jasmine?
What a disaster.
The car idled in the front yard for far too long, and the headlights made it so he couldn’t see them inside.
Finally, she emerged from the passenger side. As soon as she closed the door, the car started to back out.
He didn’t even wait for her to get to the front door? What a prick.
Though that thought might have had more to do with his anger at Trent than his worries about modern chivalry.
Jasmine walked in, shutting the door quietly behind her. Did she really think he’d be asleep?
“Have fun?” Finn winced at the seething jealousy in his voice.
She jerked straight, then narrowed her eyes in his direction—he doubted she could see him in the darkness of the living room. “You’re waiting up in the dark? Nice job being a creep.”
He grunted softly at the accusation, especially since he couldn’t deny it. Instead, he turned on the light, using the dimmer dining room one since he didn’t want to wait for his eyes to adjust.
Jasmine looked put together. Her hair wasn’t messy, her clothing still neat. She didn’t look like a woman who had spent the last few hours making wild, passionate love.
Which let him take a deep breath.
He rubbed his hands over his face, frustration eating at him.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice dropping low, that almost whisper she used when she had to admit to something she didn’t want to admit to.
“Don’t be.”
She opened her mouth, and he could see the apology there. She was going to tell him she was sorry, that she couldn’t do this again, that he was a fool for falling for her all over again.
It crushed him without her having to say any of it, so how much worse would the blow be if she got the words out?
“No reason to be sorry. We made it clear day one, right? Just friends. You want to go home with Trent, you want to screw anyone, not my business.”
Her mouth snapped shut, and he almost took the words back.
Stay quiet. This is for the best.
After a long pause, Jasmine responded. “If you don’t care, why are you still up?”
“Wanted to make sure the house got locked up once you were back.”
“That’s it?” Her words dared him to keep lying.
And Finn, who never lied, kept it going. “That’s it, Jasmine. Goodnight.”
He turned and left her alone, wishing he could wipe away his feelings as easily she seemed to.
Instead, her kiss mocked him. He’d go brush his teeth and hope that washed it all away.
* * * *
Trent would not shut up.
Jasmine sipped the coffee Trent had brought to her in her office, praying her headache would go away.
Things with Finn were tense.
Right, that’s like saying the cold war was tense.
They hadn’t spoken more than two words to one another since the night a week before, when Finn had made it clear she didn’t mean a thing to him.
He’d been lying, but that made it all worse. Finn never lied to her, but there he had stood, in the dimly lit room, claiming he didn’t care if she were with Trent.
Not that she’d gone with Trent to make Finn jealous. She’d gone with him because it seemed safer than risking anything with Finn. Trent could stomp all over her and she wouldn’t care. It didn’t matter what Trent did or said—it would never really matter to her. He couldn’t hurt her.
It had been what had gotten her with Aaron at the start, that same disinterest. While most women were looking for great loves, it was the absence of that which drew Jasmine. Men she didn’t care about were her preferred type.
Then again, look how just a few words from Finn hurt me.
Yep. Keeping things professional was the only option when dealing with Finn. She’d been saving everything and would have enough to move before long. No doubt Finn would only be too happy to let her out of her lease early, and while she’d miss the place, she needed distance.
She could prepare for at lea
st six months’ rent, which should help offset her horrible credit and let her find somewhere that would take her. At this point, anything would work.
“You always zone out,” Trent said.
Jasmine focused in on him, noting the lines around his eyes that said although he smiled, he was annoyed.
That deceit, small as it might be, made her uneasy. It reminded her of her stepfather, of having to second guess everything he did or said.
“Sorry. Long day.”
“Yeah, I get that. I had a client—” He launched into another story, much the way he always did, without taking a moment to consider anything she’d said.
It worked, she figured.
Things with Trent were simple. Not good, perhaps, but sometimes simple was better than good. It meant he didn’t ask her questions, didn’t make her admit anything, didn’t make her peel off the layers of herself and leave all her secrets bare to him.
He didn’t care about her past, about her fears or her hopes or her dreams.
All of that gave her a sense of safety. A companion who she never had to worry about caring too much about.
Perfect.
And yet she’d turned her head when he’d tried to kiss her in the car. The night he’d dropped her off back at her place, he’d leaned in, his hand on her cheek, and she’d turned away.
The only thing in her head was Finn. She’d thought about his kiss, about how Finn’s lips had been soft and sweet against hers, about how even before he’d touched her, she’d wanted him so badly.
The thought of kissing Trent left her cold. It shriveled up any desire she might have had in her from earlier, from Finn.
Not that it dissuaded Trent. If anything, he seemed more interested in winning her, as if each time she denied him, he saw it as a prize he was more ravenous to get.
She didn’t even go out of her way to see him. He’d show up at the house, or he’d call her, or he’d end up at places she frequented. Today, he’d shown up at her office in Finn’s shop, the coffee like some gift so she’d let him stay a while. Her not initiating any of the contact made it even easier to not have to make any choices.
“How long until the casita is ready?”
Jasmine swallowed a mouthful of coffee that had gone cold as she’d been so distracted, she’d forgotten about it. “Not much longer. The walls are fixed, so now it’s just flooring. To prevent it happening in the future, Finn decided to put in tile. Takes a little longer, but worth it.”
“I’m so ready to have it done,” he complained, as though the event had been most stressful on him. “It’s exhausting trying to see you with other people around all the time.” He paused, then lifted an eyebrow and curled his lips into a smirk, as if something had just occurred to him. “But maybe you could come over to my place sometime. It’s nice, and we’ll have some privacy.”
He’d hinted at that before but never pushed it. It was as if he realized she were that close to walking away. Then again, she doubted Trent had the forethought to think about anything she might want. He was singularly focused on himself.
“Maybe.”
His smile fell for only a moment. “It’d be fun. I could rent a movie, and we’ll pick up something great for dinner. You’ve got to be tired of staying in that house with Finn. You deserve a night away, a night to yourself.”
‘To yourself’ meaning with him, of course.
Jasmine waited for a flutter. She willed herself to feel some desire there, anything that would make her take him up on it. She needed to remind herself that the world didn’t revolve around Finn, that she could have things that weren’t about him.
Nothing. As always, Trent left her entirely cold and uninterested.
She wasn’t looking for love, but just a little bit of lust would carry her pretty far.
No luck, though. Maybe how hard she’d crashed after Aaron had her hesitant.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Jasmine said.
Trent’s eyebrows furrowed as if he couldn’t understand. “Why not?”
“I’m not so sure this is working.” Jasmine waved her hands back and forth between them. If he didn’t get her words, maybe some sign language would help. “You and I, I mean, I don’t think we fit well.”
“Why? I mean, we get along. I know there’s some attraction.”
There wasn’t any attraction as far as she was concerned, but that seemed rude to say, so Jasmine softened her response. “I just don’t think—”
“You have a lot going on. I get it. Let’s just stay friends for now?” He spoke fast, as if keeping her from voicing her rejection made it not count.
Friends. Jasmine wanted to say no, especially since she got the sense that to Trent, friends were just a stopover on the way to sex. However, Trent didn’t seem the type to take no as anything other than a challenge.
“Sure, friends,” she said.
Trent smiled before launching into another story of his, so Jasmine settled in and let her mind wander.
And, as it always did, it went right back to the one place it didn’t belong, the one person she should not think about. Finn.
* * * *
The chill of the house brought goosebumps up along Finn’s bare arms. Not that the house was all that cold. He just took his showers unreasonably hot to help get all the grease and oil off him, and even normal temperatures felt cool after that.
He went to the kitchen, needing a drink. He’d already eaten dinner—he’d taken to picking things up and eating in his car just so he didn’t have to risk an uncomfortable meal with Jasmine. The idea of sitting across from her while they both tried to awkwardly not look at each other sounded horrible.
He’d known that her living there had been a bad idea, yet even he hadn’t realized just how bad when he’d offered.
Maybe he’d been an idiot, but somehow he’d still thought they’d work shit out. He’d always held some stupid notion, no matter how he fought it, that when it came right down to it, she loved him and she’d realize that.
That didn’t seem all that likely, though, especially with how much time she spent with Trent.
Finn hardly spoke to him, either. He couldn’t ignore the man entirely, as that would be too obvious, but he’d make excuses to end any conversation fast.
If that was what Jasmine wanted, it wasn’t any of Finn’s business.
He didn’t own her. If she wanted to be with Trent’s self-absorbed ass, well, that was her mistake.
And yet, no matter how many times he said it to himself, it never quite sank in.
Every night when he’d closed his eyes, he’d seen her face when he’d walked away. Hurt. That had been the base layer of emotions that had sprawled across her features. She’d been hurt.
And how unfair was that? She had walked out on him not once, but twice, without a damn word. Did she really get to act upset over him not wanting to go through it again?
He sighed as he filled the glass up. Whether it was fair or not didn’t really change the guilt that plagued Finn over it.
He wasn’t a hard man, but he’d been unkind, and of all people, to her.
He hadn’t even really done it to protect himself. He wouldn’t pretend as if he had. The thought of her with Trent, of her going with him after kissing Finn, had riled him up and he’d thrown his words like the daggers they were meant to be.
“What do you mean?” Jasmine’s voice came down the hallway, lifted in that angry tone he’d grown used to.
It had him smiling, the passion she lived with. Sure, being on the receiving end of her temper wasn’t fun, but her zest for life had always been a draw for him.
“It’s been months, Aaron.”
Aaron? Her ex-husband? That brought Finn up short.
“Just sign the damned papers. What more could you possibly want from me? You have everything. You have my house, you have all my savings, you’ve wrecked my credit. I don’t have anything else for you to take, so just let me go already!”
He rec
ognized the anguish in her voice. It wasn’t just anger or hurt or betrayal. Instead, it was impotence. That was the worst, really. The knowledge that even as a person was hurting, they couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it.
Tears swam in her voice, a rarity. That asshole really fucked her over, didn’t he?
The silence was heavy, and Finn walked toward her open door, toward where she was having her conversation.
“I don’t care, Aaron. If there’s a problem with the roof, it’s your problem.” She sighed. “So go call your daddy, then. It’s not my issue. Sign the papers.” She let out a sound of pure frustration just as Finn got to the doorway, when he got his first look of her.
She hit the End Call button on her phone and turned, hurling the thing in his direction. Of course, the shocked look on her face when Finn caught it—and the sting in his palm said she’d thrown it with more than a little aggression—told him she hadn’t realized he was there.
A glistening in her eyes signaled unshed tears, the same ones he’d heard in her voice. She sniffed once, then crossed her arms. Defensive already? That doesn’t bode well, now, does it?
“You dropped this,” Finn said as he walked into the room and held her phone out to her.
“I didn’t drop it. I threw it.”
“I figured you’d want to pretend like I hadn’t seen that.”
She took the phone and slid it into the pocket of her leggings. “Thanks.”
“Surprised you still have a number your ex can reach.”
“I’ve changed it. The problem is that his father is a judge and all my paperwork with the court is updated with my new contact information. Each time I change it, he manages to get it again.”
“And what does he want this time?”
She tucked her hair behind her ear, though he got the sense the action was just so she had something to do with her hands. “The house needs a new roof.”
“So? I thought you said he got the house.”
“He did. But since things aren’t finalized yet, he says I need to pay half the cost of replacing it.”
Finn snorted and shook his head. “Sounds like a real winner.”