She wouldn't be in trouble if she had only kept her mouth shut...

"For every promise, there is a price to pay" - Jim Rohn

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Chapter 6

Two weeks.

Two weeks of walking along trails and chatting about goals and dreams, of catching late movies at the old theater downtown.  Two weeks of making each other dinner and heading into town and grabbing drinks with friends.

Two weeks and it became clear that Mr. Right was, in fact, very real.

Jasmine stared across the crowded bar, admiring the charming and handsome man ordering their drinks.  Steve had taken her out to meet up with Nicole and Eric and a few other coworkers of theirs for happy hour.  Only an hour in, the group dispersed, most heading home for the night to see their families.  Nicole and Eric?  Well she “suddenly felt sick.”

Ha.

But tonight, Jasmine didn’t care.  She was a handful of drinks in and Steve was getting more delicious by the sip, if possible.  She hadn’t realized that she was caught staring.  He was walking towards their tables with their drinks in hand and Jasmine couldn’t help but sigh at his confident, sexy stride.

Steve took the seat next to Jasmine and carefully placed the drinks on the table in front of them.  A whole tray of drinks.

“You sir, are trying to get me drunk,” Jasmine laughed, taking the shot he handed to her.

Steve winked and clinked their glasses, “To getting you drunk,”

Jasmine didn’t down the shot as well as Steve, coughing at the nauseating taste of the tequila.  He laughed all the same before they sat back on the small couch, a conversation quick to flow between them.

Steve was absentmindedly playing with the hem of Jasmine’s thin tank top.  Added to the volume of alcohol she had drunk and her head was spinning.  He was asking about taking a friends boat out on the lake one weekend when Jasmine cut him off.

“Yea, that’s fine.  Just, can you kiss me already?” she was always one to get straight to the point.

The pair of lips her eyes had never stopped staring at grew into a wide smile, his pearly whites on display.  He put down his drink and moved in close.  She felt small in his large hands cupping her face.

She licked her lips and moved in, meeting him halfway.  Their lips locked for just a moment and her mind went blank.

--

After two weeks they were infatuated with each other.

And after one kiss… well let’s just say it’s amazing how the smallest thing can have the biggest effect.

They pulled back from the kiss and neither said a word.  Steve’s hands fell from her face only to hold her hands loosely.  Jasmine looked at him intensely.

“Hmph,”

She sighed, “For you too?”

“I like you a lot,” he mused

“A lot,”

“I’ve had a lot of fun,”

“Tons,” Jasmine agreed.

“And you’re,” Steve motioned up and down her figure, “gorgeous,”

Jasmine laughed, “And you're Brad Pitt-esqe, pre-Angelina of course,”

“But I felt,” he paused.

“Nothing?” she answered for him, disappointingly.

“Nada,”

Steve groaned, falling back against the couch.  “That’s pretty fucking disappointing,” he laughed quietly, rubbing a hand over his face.  He glanced at Jasmine as she got up and left him at the table, confused.  In just a few minutes she came back with one more shot.

Jasmine held her glass in the air and kissed Steve on the cheek.  “To friends,”

Steve sat up and with a genuine smile, he joined the toast, “To friends,”

--

“Will you just go over and talk to her already?” Jasmine shouted above the music.

He smiled sheepishly, taking a sip of his beer before glancing back at the blonde.

“Don’t play the ‘shy’ card, hun.  I know you well enough to know that’s bull.shit.” she enunciated.

Though the idea of an intimate relationship was thrown out the window, much to Nicole’s dismay, a great friendship had formed instead.  In fact, Steve and Jasmine were each other’s perfect wingman.  Whenever they needed a date to something, be it a company event or just to grab dinner, there was only one person they had to call.

And that’s what tonight was.  Steve felt like going out so he hit up Jasmine to join him.  She was determined to get him a girl.  Knowing that it wouldn’t be her—Jasmine knew someone had to, a man like Steve shouldn’t be alone.  It’s just wrong.

“What about you?” Steve peered down at her.

Jasmine shook her head and grabbed his beer from his hand.  She placed it on a nearby surface and turned him away.  “Don’t worry about me.  You go get some, you stud!” she called after Steve as he trekked over to the girl he’d been flirting with from afar.

She tried to watch without being too obvious, craning her neck to see above the crowd.  She couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction when the blonde beamed, Steve leaning on the bar to order her a drink.

“Playing Cupid, I see?”

And the night is ruined, she sighed and looked up.  “Well if it isn’t Mr. Seguin,”

His large frame squeezed in front of her, the crowded bar forcing them close together.  Tyler’s body heat raised the room’s temperature 10 degrees and his thick cologne invaded her senses.

“We have got to stop meeting like this,” he grinned.

Jasmine let out a laugh, “Yes, I know.”  Signaling the bartender, she leaned over the bar so he’d hear her, “Can I close my tab?”

She felt him step in close behind, his solid chest only centimeters from pressing her into the bar.  “And where do you think you’re going?”

“Home?” she played dumb, signing her bill and whipping around to face Tyler.

His eyes were full of mischief as he licked his lips.  “I don’t think so,” he nodded his head.  “I’m buying you a drink.”

“That’s funny,” Jasmine said sarcastically, crossing her arms and rapping two fingers on her chin thoughtfully.  “I recall saying you could buy me a drink—when you’re legal,” Snickering, she turned to leave but was caught by surprise when Tyler grabbed her wrist.  He twirled her around to face him, and pulled her tightly into his chest.  For a moment he didn’t say anything as his rich, brown eyes bore into hers.  He grinned with victory when Jasmine didn’t put up a fight right away.

“Great thing about Ontario,” Tyler brushed away strands of her copper hair that had fallen from her loose ponytail.  He stretched down to whisper in her ear, “Drinking age is 19.”

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Chapter 5


*Author’s Note: This is supposed to be taking place this (2011-2012) season—or after really—but for the sake of the story’s plot and the fact that I’m afraid I’ll jinx my team… I made up the season’s outcomes and such*

Jasmine bounced up and down on the tiptoes of her feet, a nervous habit of hers.  Never in a million years did she imagine herself in this position—again.

“So what, are you stalking me or something?” Tyler Seguin accused.

She couldn’t hold back as she let out a laugh, “Oh please, I’m here visiting a friend,” she said, eying her nails as if he was wasting her time.

Which he was.

“Oh, a friend?” his hands made air quotes.  Tyler stepped to the side and leaned against the nearby brick building.  “I don’t know, who’s to say you haven’t been roaming the streets hoping to run into me?”  He grinned and winked at her.

“You’re right,” Jasmine said guilty, she tried to keep a straight face when he cocked an eyebrow at her confession.  “I’ve been walking around Brampton just praying I’d see you.  You just swept me off my feet in the five seconds we spent together what seems like forever ago,”

Tyler leaned in close.

Holy shit, is he actually buying this?!?

“I’m just surprised though, I expected you home in April,” Jasmine said, tapping her finger on her chin thoughtfully.  “Then again, who knew the Rangers were going to fuck it up in overtime and get a penalty that would void the game winning goal.  I mean that is how ya’ll got into the playoffs, right?”

It took Tyler the dig she was making at him and the Bruins.  His face fell immediately and Jasmine couldn’t help but laugh.  She turned on her heel and continued on her merry way—and for the second time leaving Tyler in the dust, alone and gawking after her.

--

“He’s tall, tan, hot body—he must’ve been an athlete,” she squealed through the phone.  “He’s got a southern charm that you’ll just love—“

“He’s from Canada—how southern could he be?”

“God you are such a pain!  Anyway!  He likes to play golf…”

Nicole rattled on about Steve, the blind date she had set up for Jasmine.  He worked in management at the headquarters of a local car company—the whole reason why Nicole and Eric had made the move to Canada.

Jasmine had zoned out of the conversation, but she heard something about a club and drinks after.  She was able to tune back to her friend in time to hear her question, “So how does 7 sound?”

“7 it is!” she answered with fake enthusiasm.

Nicole didn’t let her slide, “Great!  Dress nice!  Oh and Jasmine, leave the sarcasm at home tonight, mk hun?”

--

She was perched on a breakfast bar stool (which she happened to pick out) in the kitchen, nursing a glass of wine when the doorbell rang.  Jasmine took a deep breath when Eric went to answer it, and did her best to ignore the rather happy expression plastered on Nicole’s face.

“Will you cool it?” she snapped, glaring at Nicole’s finger nails tapping on the counter.

Nicole was about to say something, probably something Jasmine wouldn’t have liked, but was cut off by her husband.

Eric cleared his throat, “Ladies, this is Steve.  Steve this is my wife Nicole,” the two shook hands.  “And this is Jasmine, one of our good friends from Boston,”

Steve walked around the counter and stopped just a foot or two from Jasmine, holding out his hand.  “Pleased to finally meet you, I’ve heard so much about you,” he grinned.

Oh. My. Damn.

Tall, dark and handsome, Nicole wasn’t exaggerating the slightest bit. 

His sharp jaw line and perfectly straight white teeth flooded her vision and his deep voice filled her ears.  His blonde hair and blue eyes did wonders against his golden brown skin.  A pair of black jeans hung on his hips and was paired a baby blue button up shirt.  His sleeves were rolled up and a couple buttons left open, revealing a bit of chest hair.

Jasmine placed her hands in his, meeting his gaze.  “Likewise,” she beamed.

“Want a beer?” Eric interrupted their staring contest, leading Steve out to the cooler on the back deck.

“Holy shit,” Jasmine breathed in.  “Can I keep him?”

As my sex slave, she thought to herself.

Nicole giggled with pride and winked.  “You can thank me now,”