Page 45 of Good For Me

Now all of my siblings and cousins have turned around, searching for Jas.

“Grandma said you were like, really into her,” Everly continues.

“Well he would have to be,” Alex agrees. “He’s not going to bring some random to meet his Grandma.”

“I knew going there was a fucking mistake,” I mutter. But even in the face of their annoying interrogation, I can’t honestly make myself regret it. I wasn’t bullshitting before, what I said to Fox and Will. It was the best night of my life. I wouldn’t change a single minute of it.

The next day?ThatI would change.

“Ooh,” Everly suddenly squeals, in that loud as hell voice drunk people use when they think they’re whispering. “They’re coming back.”

My head snaps over to the entry to the hallway. Sure enough, Jas and Brie are returning to the dining room. Brie is glaring at me but Jas won’t seem to meet my eyes. She’s awfully pale, though.

I’m on my feet without thinking about it. It’s been way too long since I’ve seen her, and I need to figure out what the hell is going on. I block out my siblings and cousins and the look on Brie’s face and concentrate only on Jas as I make my way across the room. She finally lifts her head and our eyes lock. God, she looks…terrified.

To my great surprise, Brie steps out of the way as I approach. I’d been expecting her to pull the whole protective friend thing again. Instead she squeezes Jasmine’s arm and walks back to the counter, leaving us standing at the entry to the hallway.

“Hey,” I finally say, my voice rough.

She blinks a few times, dark eyelashes fluttering against her unusually pale skin. “Hi, River.”

God, I missed the way my name sounds on her lips. I have to shove my hands in my pockets to keep from reaching out to her. “I didn’t know you waitressed.”

“I don’t usually,” she says, her voice a little shaky. “I’m filling in tonight.”

I nod, unable to tear my eyes from her face. Still so fucking beautiful. Even though she’s pale. And now that I’m standing so close, I can see purplish smudges under her eyes. I remember the way she’d run off so quickly, obviously about to be sick, and I frown.

“Are you okay?”

She jerks a little at that. “Of course.”

But she won’t meet my eyes. Something is wrong and a kernel of dread lodges itself deep in my gut. “Jasmine.”

“Those your friends?” Her voice is high pitched, uncomfortable. Scared. But that doesn’t make any sense. What the hell would she have to be scared of?

“My family,” I tell her. “My brother and sister and a few of our cousins. Will—the big bearded guy—is getting married next week. We had the big bachelor-slash-bachelorette bash tonight.”

Her eyebrow goes up. “No crazy weekend in Vegas?”

I laugh. “Not even close. We spent the afternoon riding go-carts with our younger brothers then met up with the girls at Ruby’s.” Something flashes across her face and I wonder if she’s remembering the same things I am. I swallow hard, forcing those thoughts away, and try to lighten the suddenly tense atmosphere. “There’s been a shocking lack of strippers.”

She laughs now, and my whole chest lights up. I missed that sound.

“Poor baby. However have you survived?”

“Any chance you have a break coming up? You could come eat pancakes with us,” I hope I sound as smooth and charming as I usually do when I’m talking to girls, even while my insides are freaking the fuck out at the very idea of Jasmine hanging out with my family. “No way I’d miss strippers if you were around.”

She snorts. “That doesn’t actually sound half as complimentary as you think it does.”

I grin, shrugging. “We both know I’m a dumbass.”

She laughs again. Fuck eating pancakes. She and I should be the ones going to Vegas. Preferably tonight. I could have a ring on her finger by morning.

She shifts slightly and I realize I’m probably staring at her. I can’t help it, though. The need to soak in every detail of her face is overwhelming. Apparently the last three months have done nothing to blunt my feelings for this woman.

“So what about that break?” I press. “If you aren’t in the mood for two a.m. pancakes, I could buy you a slice of pie.”

“Pie?” she asks, raising an eyebrow in a hint of her usual wry demeanor.