Jaded (The Butterfly Memoirs) (15 page)

It never happened.

Now that Yasmine was in my life, she appeared. Part of me needed to know what she wanted. The other part didn’t give a damn.

“Did she leave a message?” I kept my voice even.

My mother shot me a sideways glance. “She wants you to call.” She pointed to the small table sitting across from us.

I started to look at it then stopped, unwilling to mess around and memorize the numbers on the paper.

We sat in silence.

“Are you going to call?”

“Why?”
Unexpected rage spewed from deep inside. “Why the hell would I want to talk to her? The last thing she said to me was her number changed and not to contact her again.” I shook my head in disgust.

“Don’t hate her, Zachariah, it’s not worth the effort,” Mom advised.

She was a far better person than I was.

“Yeah, well…it’s not something I can forgive. Leaving me…no,
us
, when we needed her the most.”

She reached over and patted my knee. “No, baby, she left you. I know that’s a bitter pill to swallow, but you’ll get over it. If I’m not mistaken, you’ve begun getting over it already.” A sly smile spread across her lips.

“What do you mean?”

She laughed at my feigned innocence. I could never lie to my mother. Somehow she always seemed to know when I was not telling the truth.

“Play coy all you want, but I know my son. Since the day you brought Yasmine here, there’s been a smile on your face, especially when I say her name.”

I smirked. “You’re making that up.”

“Oh, really?”

I turned to look at her.

“Yasmine…see! You just did it! Your eyes lit up!” She laughed and smacked her knee.

I couldn’t help but laugh as well. My mother had this amazing way of being able to read my mind. It had to be motherly intuition.

“Fine, what can I say, she is amazing.”

“What you can say is you’ve told her how you feel.”

My attention turned back to the street and the car driving past. “No.”

“Why not?”

I glanced over and saw her hand resting on her hip, and a serious question in her eye. “Because… I don’t know how I feel.”

A sigh of exasperation came from her side of the porch. “Young people wouldn’t know love if it bit them in the ass.”

I chuckled. “It’s not just that. We’ve talked about past relationships and well…she’s been hurt, really bad. She’s not interested in anything other than being friends. I respect that.”

“Okay, but is that what you want?” Her attention was completely on me. I opened my mouth to respond, but she waved it off. “You don’t know how you feel. I’ve spent enough time with her to know she needs someone, Zack. No matter what she’s telling you. If the right man came along, he’d have no problem sweeping her off her feet. Just don’t let it be someone else.”

Her words made me think. What if after all this time getting to know her and keeping my feelings hidden she did end up with someone else?

My phone rang, interrupting my thoughts. I read the caller ID. Talk about timing.

“Hi, Yasmine.” My mother sat up in my peripheral. “Hold on, slow down. Say it again.” My eyebrows creased.

“What? Is she okay?” Genuine concern showed on my mother’s face.

I held up a finger and listened to what Yasmine said before covering the speaker.  “She said she quit her job,” I mouthed.

Mom didn’t seem too surprised.

“You’re doing
what
?” The next bit of news took me completely by surprise. “Look, I’m over at my mom’s. Why don’t you come here so we can talk? We’ll figure something out. Okay…be careful.” I hung up the phone.

“What was that about?”

I stared at the phone. “Yasmine said she had a falling out with her parents and quit her job. Now she needs a place to stay.”

“I don’t understand.”

“She’s been living at the hotel where she works. I guess quitting means she can’t stay there anymore.”

This was not good. The last thing Yasmine needed was a bad situation. Things were just starting to look up for her, now this. My mind spun, trying to find a solution for her problem.

My first thought; invite her to move in with me. Living together as roommates since we were sleeping together would never work.

Twenty minutes later, Yasmine pulled up and parked. She got out of her car and walked up the front porch steps. Her arms were wrapped around her shoulders and she seemed embarrassed.

I had to keep myself from jumping up to pull her in my arms.

“Okay, tell us what happened.” I moved from the swing and took a seat on the steps.

Yasmine sat next to my mother and ran a hand over her hair. “To make a long story short, my parents were not happy to hear about my plans to start my own business. They said it would take up too much of my time.”

“Whoa,” I said.

“They want me to support the family business, but no one wants to support me. I’m tired of waiting for someone to have my back, Zack. I’ve been helping everyone around me for years. It’s time I take care of me.” Yasmine’s attention left me and went to my mother. “Oh, God, I’m sorry, Ms. Belinda. I don’t mean you. I love spending time with you.”

My mother reached over and patted her hand. “I know what you mean; though, I must say I am not surprised.”

Yasmine’s eyebrows furrowed.

“You remind me of myself when I was your age.” She smiled at Yasmine’s puzzled expression. “Pigheaded and independent, determined to do things my way.” She reached over and rubbed Yasmine’s back. “When a person has a dream they want to see come to life, they reach a point where they have to step away from what they know and take a chance. I’ve seen the signs since the day we met. You’re determined to live life your way without anyone agreeing with you. You don’t need validation in order to be happy. Just a chance to do what you feel is right. Honestly, I’m glad you decided to take this chance.”

“Thank you, Ms. Belinda, that means so much to me. I’m glad too, except now I feel as though I’ve abandoned my family, and I’m disappointed they don’t believe in me. I’m not sure we will ever get past this. I’ve screwed them royally at a time when they need me most.” Her hand went to her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry, Ms. Belinda.”

My mother waved it off. “Believe me, I’ve heard and said worse.”

Yasmine smiled a little before her expression turned grim. “The worst part is I ran my mouth and put myself in a worse situation.”

“How?” I asked.

Her gray-gaze turned to me, stress visible on her face. “I told them I’d move out.”

“Do you have a place?”

“No, I’ve spent the day looking. I’ve run down leads to some apartments, but…” She shook her head. “Nothing will be available until the beginning of next month. That’s two weeks from now. Even though I have money saved up and can afford to move, who is going to approve me if I don’t have proof of income?”

“How soon do you need to move?” I asked.

“By this weekend. If it weren’t for the fact Ebony and Brian are still in the honeymoon stage of their marriage, I’d ask to crash there. Kaitlyn and Luke’s place is too small.”

“Stay here.”

Yasmine and I both stared at my mom. She rolled her eyes.

“Am I speaking a foreign language? I have plenty of room and could use the company. I’ve been thinking of renting a room for a while now.”

My eyebrows shot up as I met my mother’s gaze. She always said she liked living alone.

“Are you sure about this? You don’t have to offer me anything,” Yasmine told my mom.

“Sweetie, I know, and I’m offering anyway. You’re already here three days a week. Just think of it as a way to save gas. You can use Zachariah’s old bedroom.” She winked when Yasmine turned to look at me.

“Are you okay with this, Zack?” She obviously meant more than if I agreed with my mother.

I saw this as a win-win situation for everyone involved.

My mother would have someone available if she needed them every day.

Yasmine would have a stable roof over her head and the support she needed to get her business off the ground from me and my mother.

There would be no more casual run-ins; I’d be able to see her here, night or day. We could talk…have dinner…

And on Friday nights, it would just be the two of us. At my place. In my bed.

“I think it’s a great idea.”

Chapter 18

Two months later…

The faint sound of muffled voices woke me. Was that a cheesy infomercial?

I never slept with the television on.

Too exhausted to get up and turn it off, I rolled over, pulled a pillow over my head and breathed deep.

Why did it smell like Zack’s cologne? I turned on my side and opened my eyes.

I shot up and looked around. This was Zack’s bedroom. My attention immediately went to his side of the bed. Empty. A glance at the bedside clock made me groan; it was 5:45 A.M.

I broke the rules.

Cursing, I slid out of bed and searched around for my clothes, but it was to no avail. The only clothes on the floor were his. Memories of the strip tease number while he followed me upstairs came to mind. I tiptoed over to the railing separating his bedroom loft from the open floor below. My clothes were thrown across the living room and dangling over the railing leading upstairs to the bedroom. Light from the television illuminated Zack as he slept on the sofa.

I grabbed his discarded t-shirt and went to the bathroom to splash water on my face. How the hell did this happen? I was tired last night, but determined not to miss an opportunity to be with Zack. Our Friday night sex dates were an addiction. The moment he opened the door, I’d begun taking my clothes off.

True to his form, he didn’t disappoint. When we were spent, he pulled on a pair of boxers and reheated dinner, insisting I stay in bed.

He’d returned with two plates of Chinese take-out. We sat in bed, ate, talked, and then I lay down for a while before getting dressed to go home. The last thing I remembered was the smoothness of his skin, the sensuous smell of his cologne, and the slow rhythmic beating of his heart when he encouraged me to lie in his arms. I must have gone out like a light.

Why didn’t he wake me? Why was he downstairs instead of his bed?

After fussing with my hair, I padded softly down the stairs and peered over the edge of the sofa. Zack looked peaceful as he slept.

He lay stretched out; one arm dangled off the edge while the other rested on his chest, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. His breath was even and slow; the muscles of his chest flexed as he slept. I took my exploration of his anatomy lower, to the cotton fitted boxer-briefs he wore. The way they clung to his muscular thighs and the delicious bulge in-between were…I bit my lip and dug my fingers into the fabric of the furniture, willing my hands still.

When we met, over four months ago when he’d come to my office the first time to fix my computer, I’d misjudged him. I assumed because of his job title and the thick-rimmed glasses, that Zachariah Givens would never be the man for me.

 Then I got to know him. Zack was proof; finding a good man went well beyond the first impression of his exterior. He was nowhere near as enthusiastic about physical fitness as Javan, with nearly every waking moment dedicated to keeping his already well-defined body intact. He took care of himself, yet didn’t go overboard to display his undercover body.

Zack had a brilliant mind, a warm personality, and an even more caring heart… he was everything I needed.

And that’s when it happened again, that brief tug of my heart, the unmistakable sign; being with Zack was about more than sexual attraction.

That scared me. I valued his friendship. We’d traveled a long way since the night we both said we didn’t want a relationship.

From friends to lovers.

Could there honestly be more?

While my heart toyed with the idea, I had no idea what Zack wanted. It was easy to tell what he was thinking from time to time, but when it came to us and what we were doing, I was confused. One moment he seemed to go out of his way to please me, even in the little things that had absolutely nothing to do with sex. Other times he seemed to pull away, as if determined not to give the wrong impression.

Our relationship seemed to be at an impasse, lost in-between being friends who slept together, and becoming an actual couple. If we decided to give in and actually date, could we ruin the good thing we had?

Zack stirred, then swung his legs over the edge of the furniture and sat up. “Hey.” His sexy, hoarse voice stirred my soul.

“Good morning.” I straightened the shirt I wore, tugging down its edges, and walked over to sit in the vacated space.

He wiped his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Almost six.” I watched him cringe.

“Damn… sorry about that. I was supposed to wake you, but I fell asleep, too. When I woke it was past three. I couldn’t sleep so I came downstairs.” He avoided my gaze as he spoke, and instead, pushed off the sofa and walked to the half-bath, disappearing behind the door.

Instead of thinking about his response, I retrieved my clothes.

“Would you like some breakfast?”

When I turned he was watching me, and once again his eyes were unreadable. Instead of waiting for a response, Zack walked over to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and inspected its contents.

“I’ve got bacon, eggs, and toast. Um…no coffee, but I’ve got apple juice.” His gaze lifted over the door.

I hadn’t spent the night with Zack since our first time, and even then, I didn’t hang around for breakfast. But today seemed…different.

“Okay.”

He appeared as surprised by my response as I did. A smile spread across his face. “Good.” His attention turned back to gathering the ingredients.

Nervous, I looked around to find a spot to place my clothes. It seemed wrong to get dressed in last night’s clothes while he walked around the kitchen in his underwear.

I left my attire on the sofa and walked over to the kitchen. “Can I help?”

Zack shook his head. “Nah, I’ve got it. Take a seat.”