“Nice to meet you both. Koti, I would love to take you to dinner some time.”
“Okay, Patrick Roberts,” I said eyeing his card. “But it will be expensive.” He bit his lip and winked. “And she brings me a doggie bag,” Jasmine chimed in.
He leaned down slightly, so I caught the amusement in his eyes—which were blue—and a hint of some intoxicating cologne. “I look forward to it.”
We both watched him disappear, fully confident in his walk. The man had an ass and swagger to boot.
“That was bold. I bet he’s packing in the penis department.”
I choked on my water as she looked at me and shrugged. “And I’m just going to say right now, I totally thought he was staring at me. I may need my eyes checked.”
“He’s the one that’s blind,” I said, eyeing my best friend in her signature red dress. I’d been surrounded by beautiful people my whole life, but none of them shined quite as bright as the woman who held out her hand to me and picked me up when I was at my lowest.
“Stop doing that,” she said, popping a piece of bread in her mouth.
“Doing what?”
“She was beautiful, I’m sure, but it’s okay that you are beautiful too. Stop downplaying your looks to appease your mother. She’s not here.”
Mouth gaping, I jerked back in my seat. “Whoa, are we on the couch, Dr. Gersch?”
“Koti, I don’t think you realize how much you do it, but you are gorgeous. Case in point, that hot ass man wants to take you on a date and do the dirty.”
Our waitress grinned as she set the check down between us. “Sorry, I walked into that, but if I can be of any help to you, he had a black Amex. You really should call him.” The waitress made her leave as I stared at Patrick’s card.
“See,” Jasmine said with the nod of her chin. “Rich too.”
“I’ve dated rich and entitled. I’d rather date a man who has to work hard to buy me expensive wine.”
Jasmine tilted her head. “Why?”
“Because that would mean he would have to work for me, obviously.”
“Oh, as opposed to giving it away.” She threw her napkin on her plate.
“Don’t. This isn’t about the way you do things, it’s about what I want for myself.”
She darted her eyes around the table, a rare sign of the guilt she inflicted on herself for her random hookups.
“One day I will get over him.”
“You will,” I assured. “It’s okay to enjoy yourself.”
Jasmine chewed the inside of her cheek. “What if I can’t love another man?”
“Then we’ll love each other.”
She looked at me with gleaming eyes and asked in a shaky voice, “Promise?”
“Promise. You’re my person, Jasmine Ann Gersch. You don’t ever leave your person.”
She smiled, but it was weak. Even though it had been a little over a year since her fiancé had abandoned her in St. Thomas, her issues remained. It wasn’t rocket science. We both knew why she wouldn’t commit or even attempt to. She had been badly burned.
“You can talk about Steven, with me, if you want. You know that.”
“I think I’m over that phase, but I appreciate it. My sisters won’t even let me say his name. He’s the reason I’m here and away from them and their children. My sisters are having babies and marrying their princes and I’m not even a part of their lives.”
“Then go see them.”
“I will. I want to, but I was too busy trying to get the business off the ground. I felt like I had something to prove to a man who doesn’t give a shit about me.” She took a sip of her water to cool the emotion budding on the tip of her tongue. “I just don’t understand how I can feel so much after all this time and know he doesn’t feel anything at all.”
“You don’t know that. And he’s an idiot.”
“That doesn’t help.”
“You had sex on a backhoe.”
She chuckled as she pursed her lips. “What is wrong with me?”
“You got your heart broken and won’t give it to anyone else,” I stated. “You need more time.”
She wiped underneath her eyes and whispered across the table. “How much more?”
“Until you and your heart are ready.”
“What about you, Koti?”
“I’m holding out for the first time in my life. I’m not in a hurry. I just need my body to cooperate.”
My abdomen chose that moment to start screaming. Jasmine saw me wince.
“It’s starting.”
“Okay,” she said shooing me away. “Go home. Text me later.”
When I didn’t move, she looked over at me. “I’ve got this, Koti.”
I lowered my eyes. “Everyone’s checked in, we shouldn’t have too many calls.”
“So, you check out.” She gripped my hand across the table. “It’s okay.”
Frustrated, I tried to ignore the deep throb in my center. “I can make it through the rest of the day,” I said, starting to inhale and exhale deeply. “This is ridiculous.”
Jasmine squeezed my hand. “Go home.”
On my deck wrapped up in a blanket and freezing, even with the day’s heat, I popped a pill from my prescription bottle, my jaw shaking from the onslaught of cramps. It felt like two tiny men had cut their way into my abdomen and were playing the bongos. I lay in my hammock in a ball as I listened to the waves in an attempt to ignore my treacherous body. My insides screamed and I braced myself for the worst. I’d been diagnosed with endometriosis a few years before I left New York. Clustered with severe mood swings and my anxiety, for several days of each month, I was a ticking time bomb. I did what I could to kick the mood swings with workouts that had me crawling toward a hot shower and relaxation techniques my therapist had taught me. Nothing helped but drugs and time. Though I’d been managing the clusterfuck for years, it still felt like a small Armageddon every single month. I was lucky enough to have a best friend as a boss who allowed me to slip away for a few days until the worst of it subsided. A shock wave of pain coursed through me and I tensed when another set of cramps hit hard.
Some time later, with my eyes tightly shut I sensed I wasn’t alone.
“Koti?”
I wiped the tears from my face and pressed my chin to my chest to hide them.
“Go away.”
Ian stood to the side of my hammock. I could feel the day’s heat coming off him. Lifting my eyes, I noticed his skin had slightly bronzed from the sun. For the first time, I was able to study the solid wall of tattoos that covered his right pec—Semper Fidelis ran in a bold cursive pattern in the middle of two crossed swords on his bicep. He’d been a Marine. He’d also lost some of the weight around his middle in the last few weeks. If I wasn’t so engrossed in my pain, I might have noticed how long his eyelashes were and how they were so dark they looked wet and spread out in a beautiful pattern over his cheek when he looked down at me. If I wasn’t in complete agony, I might have noticed the fullness of his lips and the small white scar in a subtle divot on his chin where stubble refused to grow.
“You’ve been crying for hours.”
“I’m fine. Sorry about the noise.” I wrapped my arms around my stomach and bit my lip to keep from moaning. He scanned the porch and pulled the prescription bottle from the table and eyed it. I was too wrapped up to give a damn. Inside my body was unleashing hell.
“What happened? You’re hurt?”
“Ian, what do you want?”
Meeting his gaze, I saw eyes filled with concern. It was completely ironic.
“I’m fine.” Even as I said it, my voice shook and fresh tears leaked out of my eyes.
He looked at me pointedly for a believable explanation, but I wouldn’t bring myself to tell him I had the most painful periods in the history of womankind. And every month I cursed Eve for her treacherous act because of that tempting apple.