Chapter 32 Yours, Mine
Chapter thirty-two
Yours, Mine
Shepherd Kingsley
“You want to keep our relationship a secret?” Jasmine asks, sounding about as skeptical as I feel about my plan. If it could even be classified as one, given that it’s made up of hopes and post kiss adrenaline.
We’ve moved back to my couch. Owen still hasn’t come back.
I would text him, but his phone is on the coffee table.
We’ll see when he’s brave enough to return after Jasmine’s display.
I have to hold back a smile looking at her lounging on a stack of pillows, her legs draped over my lap.
When she walked in I wouldn’t have thought we’d end up here, but I’m glad things turned out this way.
“Just until after the homecoming game,” I explain. “Everyone is going to be high stress coming off the loss. And while I know I don’t have to win to have someone who cares about me”—I squeeze her ankle, earning a smile—“I want to do right by my team. Shaking them up right now wouldn’t be good.”
Jasmine toys with the sleeves of her sweatshirt. “Do you think he’ll be mad?”
I hate how afraid she looks. I know Bash cares for her, and that’s why he made the rule, but she likely sees it as another way to let him down after all he’s done for her.
“I think if we tell him in the right way, he won’t be. I’ll ask to have dinner with him and MJ, and you can show up, then we’ll tell him together.”
Jasmine gives me a wry smile. “You want MJ there because you think she’ll be on our side.”
I laugh. “I doubt she knows about the rule. She’d probably put a stop to it.”
“A loud one,” Jasmine agrees.
I’d consider telling MJ first, but that wouldn’t help us now. It would look like we went behind Coach’s back, which would only make things worse.
“Okay,” she sighs. “I can get behind this plan. Though…all of our roommates are going to know. Mine encouraged me to come here.”
“I’ll have to thank them,” I say with a grin.
“They also threatened you in a variety of creative ways if this didn’t go well, so…”
“I’ll thank them and stay on their good side.”
She chuckles. “I think they’ll keep our secret. And Owen doesn’t seem like the gossip type.”
“Definitely not. He’s a human vault. As long as no one else finds out, it’ll be fine.”
“Two weeks isn’t so bad,” she says with a little nod. “We can do it.”
“It’ll kill me not to tell everyone I see tomorrow, but yeah, we can.”
She giggles. “That’s a lot of people.”
“Trust me, once the secret is out, I’m telling everyone you’re mine.”
“Yours, huh?” She pokes my leg with her toes. “I don’t remember agreeing to that.”
“That kiss felt pretty binding.”
She smirks. “I don’t know. I might need some more convincing.”
“That can be arranged.”
I grin and move so I’m hovering over her. She reaches up and toys with the hair at the nape of my neck. Her eyes have darkened from a pale meadow-green to a dark forest beneath my shadow. I lower myself down and press a kiss to the corner of her mouth, then her jaw. She hums.
“Convinced yet?” I brush my lips over hers.
“Not quite.” There’s a teasing glint in her eyes that stokes a fire deep within me.
I trail feather soft kisses from her jaw to the delicate skin below her ear. Her breathing turns ragged. I hover right above that sensitive spot, my breath warming her skin.
“Tell me you’re mine,” I whisper into her ear.
“You’re mine,” she says, ever the rebel.
I chuckle. “That was never in question, beautiful.”
Her hands grip me tighter. “I’m yours,” she breathes out.
Those two words undo me. I bury my face in the curve of her neck, lavishing her with all the affection she deserves. She arches into me and I pull back, ready to stop before we go too far. This is, of course, the moment that Owen chooses to return.
I hear the door open and I scramble off of Jasmine, getting to my feet. Her face flushes bright red. She sits up straight as a board.
“Oh—I—” Owen stutters from right inside the door. “If you throw me my phone, I can leave,” he finally gets out.
I heave a sigh and face him fully. “No, it’s okay. We should probably talk.”
“I’m just going to go to the bathroom real quick,” Jasmine squeaks out before getting up and speed-walking into my room—which does not have a bathroom.
“Should you tell her—”
“Jasmine and I are dating.”
“Oh, yeah, I knew that.”
My brows knit together. “No, it just happened. Today.”
“I thought you were spending all that time together because you were dating.”
I slide my hand down my face. Let’s hope no one else thinks that. “No, we—we’re—you know what? It doesn’t matter. We’re dating, and we’re going to tell Coach, but not until after homecoming.”
Owen blinks at me. “Okay.”
“So if you could just not tell anyone, that would be good.”
It dawns on me that he’s kept what he thought was a secret this whole time, but it makes me feel better knowing I asked.
He must sense that because he answers, “Sure.”
“Thank you,” I breathe out. “And I promise we’ll be less—” I gesture to the couch. “Like that when you’re around.”
He gives a stiff nod in response. I shove my hands in my pockets, not sure what to say now. Even if he was doing it before, it feels like a lot to ask him to keep a secret that could get him in trouble too. I stare at the floor.
“Does this mean you’re done being pathetic?” Owen breaks the ice first.
I look up as a laugh bursts out of me. “You don’t pull punches, do you?”
He shrugs.
“Yeah, I am. Thanks for trying to help,” I say.
He nods, then gestures to my door. “You can tell your girlfriend to stop hiding. I’ll be in my room.”
“Thanks, Owen. I mean it. We both appreciate this.”
His expression turns increasingly more awkward the more I say. He walks to his room, and I think he’s not going to say anything, when he pauses in the doorway. “Do you think you could get her to bring some more of her food when she comes by?”
“I can do my best.”
He bobs his head. “Good, because your cooking sucks.”
I let out another laugh. “So does yours.”
He heads into his room, but I think I hear him chuckling. Once his door shuts, I go and open mine. Jasmine is sitting on the edge of my bed, covering her face.
“That was the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to me, and one time a bunch of the Carters set up beside me cheering at a game to cheer for me. Grayson said that even cheerleaders needed encouragement. They had pom-poms and everything,” she says.
I can’t help but laugh at that mental image.
“It’s not a big deal. I think all will be forgotten if you bring food whenever you come by. You’ve made us hate our own cooking.”
She looks up, a small smile replacing the nervous twist of her lips.
“Really? I mean, with how sad your fridge looked, it doesn’t surprise me that much—” She cuts off with a squeal when I tackle her to the bed and start tickling her.
“Stop!” she says through a fit of giggles, flinging all her limbs at me in a futile attempt to stop me.
“Tell me I’m a great cook,” I say as I tickle her mercilessly.
“I’m not—” she squeals. “A liar.”
I torture her extra for that before finally relenting and falling beside her on the bed.
We lie side by side, chests heaving as we stare at my ceiling.
My hand finds hers and I intertwine our fingers.
Something clicks as I do. A deep, soul-level feeling that I can’t put words to yet, but I know I never want to let go of this woman’s hand ever again.
“Jasmine?” I turn my head to look at her.
“Hmm?” She turns her head toward me. Her curls are splayed around her, the wildness of their state matching the joy sparkling in her eyes.
“Thank you for fighting for me.”
She smiles, and I feel as though I’m being lit from within. “Always.”