Page 105 of Wrecked
I grip my phone a little tighter, a smile pulling at my lips. “Okay. Thank you. I'll be there.”
“Alright, catch you later.”
“Bye.” I hang up and drop my phone into my lap, feeling the excitement rush through me in a wave.
I hadn't appreciated what Jasmine did for me when she tried to hook me up with the guy who was her patient until it was too late. I'm just grateful that I kept the business card she gave me.
I called a few weeks ago and was invited to go do a drag race. I turned up, raced well, and have been making connections ever since – I just hung up with one of the most important connections and couldn't be happier.
That's not true.
I'd be happier if I had Jasmine here with me.
Speaking of Jasmine, a car pulls up to the curb in front of me, and I watch as she steps out with a radiant look on her face. My heart picks up speed at the sight of her tinted cheeks and long flowing hair. God, it feels like too long since I've seen her. I'm tempted to jump out of my car right now and approach, but I'll wait until her ride pulls away.
I watch her take a couple of steps and then turn my attention back to the car, only to be met with the toothy grin of fuckingCurly-locksas he steps out of the drivers' side. I reach up and take the steering wheel in a death grip before I do something stupid.
Deep breaths.
I shouldn't be surprised, really. After I screwed everything up, he was probably there with his shoulder nice and ready for her to cry on. I bite down on my cheek while I watch him walk over to her and hand her a jacket that she must have left in the car. I'm so fucking jealous of the smile she gives him when she thanks him.
I think I'm too late. I shouldn't have waited so long.
Deep breaths.
He left his engine running, so at least I know he's not going up to her apartment.Thank fucking goodness for that.I expect to see him walk her to the door of the building, but all he does is wave goodbye to her after he hands the jacket over – what a lazy jack-ass. My brows twitch with a scowl as I watch him walk back toward his car.
But then confusion pulls my brows even further together when he smiles lovingly at someone inside his car and then leans into the passenger side to kiss the person in there. It suddenly clicks that Jasmine got out of thebackdoor of the vehicle. There were other people with them. Obviously, someone who he's dating, maybe the girlfriend Jasmine mentioned once.
Maybe I'm not too late. And maybeCurly-locksisn't so bad, after all.
Nah, fuck that. I still don't like him.
Once he pulls away, I swing my gaze back to Jasmine walking up the short steps to her building. My heart leaps into my throat when I see her misstep while trying to put her jacket on, and in what seems like slow motion, she tumbles down the six concrete steps behind her. I'm out of my car in a flash and rushing over to her.
She's already sitting up and rubbing the elbow that's not covered by her jacket sleeve when I get there, so I know she's not seriously hurt, but she could still have a broken bone or something.
“Are you okay?”
Wide eyes look up at me like she's surprised to see me here, much like the last time I saw her. But this time, she doesn't bother asking why I'm here.
“I think so.” She moves her leg and then winces. “Ouch. Actually, I think I sprained my ankle.”
“Let me see.” I gently slide her pant leg up and pull her sock and shoe off.
“Do you know what you're doing?” she asks, leaning forward to see for herself as well.
I glance at her before returning to her ankle. “I figured you'd guide me.” I give a few test squeezes and watch for a reaction. “Does this hurt?” She lets out a hiss, and her eyes snap up to mine when I press in a certain spot, so I immediately stop. “Sorry.”
“It's okay.”
I don't even try to stop my hand from rubbing softly back and forth over the area where it seemed to hurt the most. Her skin feels smooth, like satin under my fingertips, and I've missed touching her. Our eyes stay locked in a silent stand-off. She doesn't stop my stroking either but instead wears a peculiar expression on her face as if trying to find answers to all of her unspoken questions.
“Can you walk?” I finally ask, pulling her pant leg back down. After dragging her eyes back to her ankle, she makes a move to get to her feet but ends up dropping back down with a soft grunt. She makes another attempt, but I stop her. “I'll carry you. Put your arm around my neck.”
“Wait, all of my stuff,” she says, gesturing to the scattered contents of her purse that I hadn't even noticed in my haste to make sure she was alright.
“Okay, you put your jacket on properly, and I'll get your things.”
