Page 95 of Wrecked
I can't see them through the mirrored glass window of the restaurant, but as I step through the doors and walk toward the hostess, my eyes land on Jaz's side profile. My breath stalls in my lungs at the sight of her after all this time, and I can't seem to take my eyes off her. Simply wearing black scrubs and a braid over one shoulder, she manages to look more captivating than anyone else in this room.
I'm fucking obsessed with her, and this past week without her has been a new level of hell for me.
She offers a small smile across the table to Graham, I assume, since there's a pillar blocking me from seeing him from here, and then she takes a sip of water.
“Can I help you, sir?”
Glancing to my right, the hostess stands with a menu and a curious look on her face.
“I, ah, I'm joining that table there.” I point to where Jaz is, and she follows my gaze.
“Oh, sure. Let me take you.”
She starts walking, and after a second of hesitation and sucking in a breath, I follow after her with my head down, gathering all my thoughts together. My palms are fucking sweaty, and I can't stop wiping them on my jeans.
When she comes to a stop, I look up, only for my heart to jump straight into my throat as both jealousy and devastation war with each other inside my head at seeing some other guy sitting across frommygirl.
“You're on a fuckingdate?” I belt out instantly without thought, without restraint.
Three sets of surprised eyes land on me, Jaz's, the guy's, and the hostess', as I try to rein in the impulse to smash the face of the guy sitting with her. Actually, make that about twenty sets of eyes since I yelled it loud enough to pique the curiosity of the surrounding tables.
I hear the hostess sputter out some kind of apology to them beside me, saying she thought I was meeting them, but I ignore her, flicking my gaze back and forth between Jaz and the guy.
He gets to his feet, clearing his throat before looking down at Jaz – who still hasn't said a word but is looking at me surprised – and then he looks back to me. “I think maybe you should leave.”
My thoughts turn almost murderous as I turn to the guy and take a menacing step in his direction. “And who the fuck are you?” I spit out, my hands shaking. I feel like my insides now match the reflection that I saw on the way here.
“Doesn't matter,” the guy says, holding his ground with a straight face, despite the feral rage on my own. “She doesn't appear to want to see you.”
“How would you know what she wants?” I step in even closer, ready to get in his face.
“Cam.” Jasmine's tense voice reaches my ears and halts my movements. Even though it sounded almost glacial, she was still talking to me, and that's more than I've had from her all week. I turn in her direction, ready to go to her, but the embarrassed, hurt, and angry look on her face stabs at me, making it hard to move. “Let's talk outside.” She doesn't wait for an answer before she gets up. “When Graham gets back, tell him I just had to talk to someone,” she says to the guy and starts walking.
With one more lingering scowl at him, I turn and follow her out, getting an occasional whiff of her vanilla scent.
“I'm sorry,” I blurt when we come to a stop a little distance from the entrance. Even though I hate that she was out with some other guy when we haven't even talked about what happened,andI wanna know who the fuck he is, I know my actions weren't exactly appropriate for smoothing anything over.
She stares off past me, nodding slowly. “You're sorry. You're sorry. You'realways sorry.You lash out at me; you're sorry. You spend the night out drinking and forget about me; you're sorry. You fuck somebody else; you're sorry–”
“I didn't–” I try to cut in, but she's not listening and plows on.
“–You weren't there for me like you promised; you're sorry. Well, you know what? I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you in the beginning when you said you weren't any good for me. But I know better now.”
Invisible hands slide up and strangle my throat, tightening at her last few words. “Don't say that. I was wrong, Jaz. You are absolutely perfect for me.”
She scoffs, shaking her head. “That's why you ignored me? That's why you cheated on me?”
My heart breaks at the absolute anguish in her expression when she peers at me with shiny eyes. “Jaz, I didn't cheat on you. Shit. Graham was supposed to tell you that.”
A humorless laugh escapes her lips as a single tear trickles down her cheek. “I'm supposed to believe that? And why would Graham tell me that?”
“Because he came to see me that day, and I asked him to tell you. He told me to give you time, but I've been trying to see you all week to talk to you.” I take a step closer to her, desperate to touch her and hold her, but I don't think she'd let me. “IpromiseI didn't sleep with her. I never cheated on you.” She looks off to the side, chewing on her lip, not saying anything. Hopefully, considering what I said. “I would never do that to you.”
“Why was she at your apartment, wearing only your shirt?” she asks, still looking away from me.
I stuff my hands in my pockets. “The funeral was tough. I, ah, I left there and got fucked up. I don't even know when I got back, to be honest. She turned up the night before when I was too drunk to even know up from down and apparently felt the need to look after me. But we didn't do anything. She said I kept calling her Jasmine and then passed out. She slept on my couch.”
A beat passes where I wait for her to say something, fuckinganything, and it feels like it stretches on forever.
