6. Six
Six
Jasmine
My heart pounds. Trent—the nicest guy I’ve ever met—is here. Now. Of all the men who could have won me in the auction—Trent’s roommates… They called him Mo. He lived alone when we dated.
Could it be a setup? How? I wasn’t supposed to be on stage.
“I... uh... Let me get something to clean that.” I don’t wait for Trent’s permission or instructions on where to find things. I need time to think. I bolt toward the kitchen, nearly tripping on the sheet I’ve wrapped around my body. Quickly regrouping, I adjust it and tuck the end in carefully, making sure my hands are free.
As I scramble to find cleaning supplies, memories of the devastation on Trent’s face the night I rejected his marriage proposal haunt me.
When I get back to his bedroom, he’s crouching, placing pieces of the broken mug into a trash can.
I toss the paper towels onto the bed and use the broom to sweep the shards into a neat pile. “Let me do this. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I know how to handle broken things. I’ll clean up my own mess,” Trent says, his voice tight.
The potential for double meaning isn’t lost on me. I shove the broom in place where he’s about to grab the next piece, sweeping the pieces to my pile. “There’s nothing heroic in doing it alone.”
“Says the one who’s independent. You don’t need people telling you what to do.” Trent grabs the paper towels and sops the spilled coffee.
I bristle. “Trent, I’m sorry. I had no—”
“Stop.” Trent drops a soaked wad of paper towel into the trash. He stands slowly and his ripped abs and chest offer a reminder that I didn’t let myself succumb to physical need two years ago, and I won’t now.
Aside from the virgin auction thing.
But now that I’ve had sex—a lot of really amazing sex—I can keep from letting it cloud my thoughts. Can't I? I’m an independent woman with a plan.
He doesn’t meet my imploring gaze until he’s fully upright. “You made yourself perfectly clear. You don’t want a commitment. As long as you aren’t stringing my roommates—my business partners and friends—along, you can do whatever you want. You don’t owe me an explanation.” His tone grows surprisingly calm.
“I feel like this…” I motion between us.
“It’s fine.”
It’s about as ‘fine’ as the busted mug. Unsure of how far to press, I scan the floor and spy a broken piece that shot a few feet away. Reaching with the broom in one hand and the dustpan in the other, my body twists just enough… It’s like slow-motion that the fabric loosens around my chest, slips down my body, then pools on the floor.
With my hands full, I try to stop the sheet, but fail.
Trent’s eyes go wide. He’s seen me naked before, but this time is different. I’m vulnerable, fearful that he’ll judge me.
Bending quickly, I grab the sheet, which is now a mess. I fumble to manage it with the broom and dustpan.
Trent looks away and makes a shooing motion. “Just go.”
That seems like the best option. For now. And with only my sexy red and white dress to wear, the Uber will be a total walk of shame. Oddly, that doesn’t bother me nearly as much as what just happened between Trent and me.
I never wanted to hurt him: I just wasn’t ready to settle down.
Gathering my clothes, I dress, then find my phone and pull up the rideshare app.
“Whatcha doin’, Peaches?” Landon strolls down the hall stark-naked, his morning wood ready for another round.
My personal high from last night is tragically gone.
“Getting a ride home.”
“It’s barely seven.” He caresses my shoulders.
Trent can’t see us from his room. It’s still uncomfortable. I shrug away. Keeping my voice down, I say, “Only one night, that was the deal.”
Blake takes my phone. I hadn’t even noticed he’d come into the room—also naked. “Haven’t you looked outside? You can’t go home in this.”
Cole is with him, completing the holy trinity of nakedness. Maybe the Christmas Cherry Auction is magical.
I smile nervously, trying to get my phone back. The guys have fun keeping it from me. And it should be fun for me too. “What about your truck? You made it through the snow last night.”
“What’s the hurry?” Cole asks.
“Oh, shit,” Landon says, realization dawning. “Did Mo fuck this up?”
I try to see if Trent’s door is still closed, but the wall of muscular flesh in front of me makes that impossible.
“Not exactly.” Trent’s voice comes from behind the wall of naked men.
They all turn.
Trent continues, “We know each other. We used to date.”
“Oh, shit,” Landon repeats. “She’s the one who broke you.”
“Just my heart. Years ago. I’m fine now.”
Trent ignores their laughter and doubt. He steps past them, holding his trashcan, and is the only one dressed. He’s even added a shirt. “Let me dump this, then I’ll drive her home.”
“Trying to get her alone?” Blake asks while guiding me awkwardly to the side. It’s not until he looks up that I notice the mistletoe.
Not exactly in a festive mood, I shake my head and pull away. His eyes sadden.
“She doesn’t do relationships. Just taking her home.” Trent shakes his head, his expression strained as he carries the full trashcan.
“I’d like that… a chance to talk to Trent. It’s been a while.”
The other three must realize this isn’t the time for jokes because they give me hugs and don’t ask about how soon we can do this again. They’d asked a few times overnight, but I’d told them I would get in touch if they impressed me.
The drive is slow as Trent navigates the snow-covered road with his plow. It’s also silent. He’s focusing. That’s what I tell myself, anyway.
He stops in front of my house and takes a deep breath. “Stay safe until the roads are clear. If you need help getting your car from the…” He winces almost imperceptibly. “Aubergine Affair, let me know.”
“So that’s it?”
“It’s what you wanted.”
His easy tone confuses me.
I need to get this off my chest. “It wasn’t personal, me not wanting to get married.”
“That kind of thing feels pretty personal, but I respect your decision.”
“I was eighteen.”
“Would your answer be any different today?”
All of the fear I experienced two years ago resurfaces. An uncomfortable silence passes before I say, “I’m finally getting my business off the ground. I still need to learn about myself and life before I settle down.”
“So how much did you learn your virginity costs?”
He’s never said anything that harsh, even when we broke up. I sit with the gut punch for a minute. “The money went to charity. And concerning your earlier comment about stringing them along… I made it clear to the guys that I’m not ready to settle down.”
“You have to know the history of the auction.”
“It can’t be a hundred percent perfect.”
“Be careful, Jasmine.” His tone reminds me of when we dated, when he had true concern for me.
“Careful of what?”
“You’re right… You have a lot to experience. It’s not as easy as choosing a path and refusing all help. I wanted to be the one to go on the journey with you. I wanted to give you everything.”
Swirly feelings be damned. “I don’t want everything . I want to be in control of my life. You know how hard my mom had it with my father.”
“I do, and she raised a woman who’s independent to a fault.”
Why does he sound so sincere?
It’s my turn to be testy. “Maybe you can’t handle an independent woman.”
“I hope someday you’ll give someone the chance.”
That’s the old Trent, always believing that things will work out. Not even asking for himself. “Someday. But today I’m submitting my coffee shop business plan for the Single, Savvy, and Successful Sirens contest. I made it past the first round.”
“Good luck. I remember you dreaming about winning the SSSS one day. I can respect that we want different things.”
“Thank you. So what is it that you want?”
“I just want you to be happy.”