Day Three
Gloom and doom, that was the sky today – rain pouring down hard against the rooftop of St.Augustine. Jasmine half sat, half laid, against the concrete slab that enclosed the door leading back into the hospital – the musty air making her nose wrinkle. Some rogue drops of water managed to hit her face every once in a while, thanks to the gusts of wind. They felt cool against her skin.
She looked down at her phone and swiped through some messages, most just automatically generated crap from her provider. Her eyes hung on the two texts that were not junk, one from her boss Augustus Lark, and the other from Alejandra. She happened to have just a little crush on Augustus, even if he always did give her a hard time. Jasmine wondered if maybe some part of him shared a mutual feeling – he was always going on about how she was his 'hazelnut' – not that she ever understood what in the hell that meant.
Trying to mentally block the discomfort, she had a hard time pretending that her feet were not killing her – too many patients today.
Blinking, Jasmine turned her head back towards the dreary scene and tried to ignore the pangs of hunger in her stomach. You don't eat enough, a voice resounded in the back of her mind – but she wanted nothing to do with it. She'd suffered enough when she was a kid, the thought of going back to that phase of her life scared her like hell.
How can you be so cruel? You should have said you were sorry. Jasmine sighed, running a hand through her hair, twirling a couple of thick curls, pulling on them until they snapped back into place. She had seen Luke today, but said nothing – almost certain that he saw her. He didn't say anything either.
Mind wandering now, she thought back to those days so long ago. She could still remember her brother's face like it was just yesterday. Jasmine smiled, that Sunday afternoon the two of them had booked it during second period, going to Gino's splitting an extra-large pizza with all the meat toppings. Marcus dubbed it 'The Meatzilla'. Her mouth began to water, she could practically smell the golden crust with the flakes of garlic – the taste of black peppercorn and salt, of hearty Canadian bacon and fennel laced salzitsa They had made it a tradition since then, much to the chagrin of mother and father; but to them it was sacred, one of their many rituals.
Marcus had a way with words, she mused, something that I'll never have.
But that was the difference between the two. Where Jasmine buried her nose in the library, Marcus would bury something else . . . it was always strange how Miss Garcia gave him such high grades.
Inch by inch, the hole in Jasmine's soul dilated, letting the wind pass freely through her. She thought of his smile again. Those days I can't ever have back . . . the pager in her white coat suddenly buzzed and she sighed harder this time. She tapped the back of her head against the damp concrete slab several times.
Today she wished she had listened to her father all those long days ago.
Day Four
Driving into Hart's Customs and Repairs shop, Jasmine listened to the soothing strums of her romantic guitar playlist. Her last lover had been into this kind of music, and even though she enjoyed it, it reminded her of what was absent in her life – she had sworn that after what had happened, her focus would be on work.
Instead all she could focus on was that asshole Luke.
Ten days of work in a row and now her sort-of-boss Augustus was wheedling to try and get her to come in for a four hour night shift, it just never seemed to end. As she eased her way into the open garage where a couple of mechanics were working on a Honda Accord, she noticed two motorcycles and their respective riders.
Not him, she concluded. Rolling to a stop, she pulled down her window as one of the workers approached. Jasmine's eyes looked him over. He had green eyes and an earnest smile; barrel chested and broad shouldered, the man had short, brown parted hair. There was a touch of ink on his skin around his collar, but Jasmine could not make out what it was.
Not bad. Jasmine draped an arm over her window and pulled down her shades. "Hey there boss, how much for a basic?"
The mechanic chuckled. "Well ah, we usually take off ah couple hundred for pretty girl's such as yahself," his voice definitely had an accent, but it wasn't totally unattractive like some she had heard. "Good for the business, yah know?"
"And what about beautiful women?" She felt silly for having called herself as such, even if only in jest.
"They get ah much better rate, your mom know you're driving er car?"
Jasmine laughed. "How old do you think I am?"
"Not a day ovah nineteen."
She snorted and read the man's tag printed on his chest, Dale, "Not quite sweetheart, but I admire you laying it on thick like that for me."
Four hundred dollars mysteriously parted her wallets embrace that day, and it was notorious for not letting anything go. Much to her annoyance, later that night Augustus made well on his threat to get her to come in – even though he was head of Neurology, the Dean of Medicine liked him a lot, and Augustus had a very particular view on one's work ethic.
Day Five
Jasmine's heart soared to the high heavens when she saw Luke, warmth quickly flooding her body. She had a prescription in her pocket that needed filling for a patient, and it seems Luke was in a similar position; he was the last in line with his back to her.
Don't screw this up. "Luke," she said softly, placing a hand gingerly on the biker's shoulder.
He craned his neck to face her, the leather of his jacket creaking slightly. There was a sadness that glinted in his brown and blue eyes. "Long time no see," he murmured, the both of them moving up in line. He then turned to face her. "Sorry about before," he said, "I might have been acting a bit stubborn."
"I'm sorry too," Jasmine confessed quietly, bringing her gaze down to her feet. "It was seriously my fault," Jasmine continued, not wanting to look him in the eye from shame.
Luke grabbed her hand, giving it a small squeeze. "It's alright."
Mortal ecstasy shot through her veins and she lifted her head to look him in eye. His hand's so big, so strong; it feels so right. Jasmine gave a private smile, only for Luke to see.
A warm smile walked along the lines of his face, his white teeth peeking out.
The lined moved up and Jasmine motioned with a nod of her head to let Luke know. "You're next, Tiger."
There was a weird look on the man's face, "Don't call me that, I seriously hate being called that – not trying to be a dick. It just, eh, reminds me of someone . . ."
"Oh," Jasmine said, playing with her fingers in her pocket, "sorry." A knife of tension stabbed at her gut before she could summon the courage to ask. "Will I see you at the cafeteria tomorrow?" She batted her long lashes, lowering her chin just an inch.
"Yeah," he said, letting go of her hand.
No! She thought, the electricity between them dimming and a disappointment cloaking itself around her.
"I'd like that," Luke's smile widened a half an inch before he turned around and walked over to the counter, lazily placing his arms down on the natural, granite stone. "Seen Janet around?" He asked, cocking his head.
The pharmacist shook her head. "She called out today, you got something you need filled?"
"Nah," he replied and then tapped the natural stone counter twice with his knuckles. "Tell her . . . just tell her someone's looking for her."
A twinge of jealousy ripped through Jasmine's body. If she knows what's good for her, Janet would stay far, far away from him. Damnit, why am I having these stupid feelings? All they did was burn me. She stepped forward and moved over to the counter, watching Luke Reynolds walk away, her heart a fluttering mess.
Stop getting so attached.
Day Six
The morning sun crested the horizon, bursts of orange and pink coloring the sky – Jasmine's eyes went wide when she saw Luke talking away on one of the benches outside. He's not wearing his jacket. Jasmine felt foolish for being so giddy, but the butterflies in her stomach were pleased at such a sight. He was wearing a blue Henley that had its first three buttons undone, revealing an oh-so glorious few inches of skin; he was also rocking a pair of dark stonewashed Levi's.
Sexy.
Jasmine's mind raced into dark waters, where the light of reason could not penetrate. As she approached him, she could feel her womanhood building and building with delightfully frustrating pleasure; arousing waves crashing against her. Jasmine's very bones became drenched with need, the whole of her body feeling so heavy that it might collapse with one wrong step – be strong, she thought. He's just a man, sure he's like – ridiculously hot . . . but he's still just a person.
As he talked into his phone (a burner?) his eyes flicked over to Jasmine, and they glinted with joy, his lips curling into a smirk. Luke crossed a leg over his other and patted the spot on the bench beside him mouthing 'come here'. "Hey let me get back at ya Able."
Jasmine, for as much as she was burning on the inside, sat down with a remarkable grace and nonchalance. Go me, pretending to be cool since 99.
Luke flipped his phone shut and stuffed it into his jean pocket, taking in a big breath of air. "Getting ready to save lives?"
"You know it. What're you doing out here so early?"
"Taking a personal day from the club," he wet his dry lips.
"And you're spending it here?" Her brows raised.
"Well I'm only here to see you today," he confessed. Me? Jasmine felt silly for being jealous yesterday. "I figured I'd catch you and ask if you wanted me to take you out to lunch today. Show you what it's like to ride." Oh you wouldn't need to show me.
Jasmine brushed back her hair, pressing her legs tighter together. "That sounds lovely."
He flashed that special smile again. "Great, I'll swing by around noon and we'll go whenever you're able."
The day went by in a blur of medical procedures, excited anticipation for lunch and cardio nightmares. Jasmine was sure by the time that Luke would come by; she'd be too spent to walk over to his steel steed.
When the hour finally drew near, Jasmine walked through the main lobby hoping to find Luke. Instead she could only see blackness, an arm snaking around her waist and a hand covering her eyes. She yelped.
A rumbling laugh escaped the man's lips. "Where you think you're going," Luke joked. "You ready to go?"
Jasmine pawed, trying to get his hand off of her face.
He eventually relented.
Turning around to face him, Jasmine scowled. "Just get me the hell out of here before I admit you myself." Wouldn't that be satisfying.