“Graham!” Jasmine gasps, sounding half embarrassed. “Why would you ask him that?” Then, directing her comment to me, she says, “Don't answer him. He's being ridiculous.”
Well, I can understand a parent asking such a thing. Whether or not that's something a brother would do, I'm not sure. I don't exactly have any relationship with my own sister.
Glancing from her to me, Graham says, “Okay, fine. What do you do for a living, then?”
This. This question right here is exactly why I went to my cousin for a job. Well, that, and because I thought it would make Jasmine happy.
How would he react if she told him about the racing?
“He works for his cousin, doing construction,” Jasmine answers for me, making me realize I was taking a long time to reply while looking at him.
“Ah, yeah. He owns Rybax Constructionhere in the city,” I add.
“That must be nice, working for your family.”
“Sure.” Except for the constant fear that I'm going to let him down somehow.
The waitress brings all of our drinks pretty quickly, and Graham takes a sip of his before leaning back and crossing his arms, glaring at me. Probably trying to appear tough or something. He asks me some more questions about what I do at the construction site and how long I've been living in the city. The whole time keeping his arms crossed and his face stoic. I honestly can't tell what he's thinking at all.
After another few minutes, Jasmine gets to her feet. “I'm just going to the ladies' room quickly.” She leans down to give me a quick kiss on the lips and then throws a 'behave'look Graham's way.
Once she's gone, her brother and I have some sort of stare-off until, finally, I break eye contact to drink some of my Coke. “You knew it was me in there the whole time,” I say, looking back at him when I put my glass down.
“I did.” His face remains impassive as he studies me some more. And then suddenly, it breaks into a grin that looks similar to Jaz's. “God, I can't do it anymore, the whole hard-ass big brother thing.” My brows crinkle in confusion. Either the alcohol is hitting me harder than expected, or I'm hearing things. But nope, he then shakes out his arms as if ridding the fake persona and adapts a more relaxed pose, adding, “I was sitting back in the corner and watched you guys come in. I wanted to observe you both first, try to get a read on you.”
Warily, I ask, “And what did you see?”
I'm not quite sure what to think of him or this situation. Could this be a trap of some sort? Talking to me earlier without me knowing who he was could be considered a trap, too.
He lifts his drink with a smile, leisurely taking a sip before answering, “I saw you looking at her like she was your world and her smiling back at you like you make her happy.” My eyes drop to the glass in front of me, and I idly rub my thumb up and down the condensation. “I also saw you were fidgeting like crazy and knew you were nervous as shit. That's why I won't give you any crap for drinking in the restroom.”
“I don't really know what to say to that,” I admit after a beat. Ever since this morning when he called Jasmine, I've been thinking up the worst-case scenarios and trying to prepare for them. And here he is, being almost as nice as his sister and not calling me out on my shit. “I guess sorry for snapping at you in there.”
“Nah, I was pushing you to talk on purpose. I actually respect you more for what you said to me in there about how it matters to you because of her. It shows where your head is at. And you've also got her working less, which I like.” He chuckles to himself and looks in the direction of the restrooms. “Jaz will probably give me shit for it all later. Sorry for putting you through that. I couldn't resist.”
“I get it, I think. I guess I was just expecting you to warn me away from her.”
He shakes his head. “I had been wanting her to find someone. A person who would take care of her and adore her like she deserves.”
I look down at my hands on the table. “And you think that guy is me?”
“I do. I approve of you.”
My eyes swing up to meet his. I have his approval?
“Just like that?”
“Yep.” He lifts his drink again, but right before he takes another sip, he says, “Just don't fuck it up.”
And there they are. Those four words.Don't fuck it up. I'm trying not to. I am. But I'm constantly in a state of feeling like it's bound to happen anyway.
I've made a mess of my life over the years, but I do feel like the changes I've been making for Jasmine are helping me clean it up. I just hope I can keep it up.
I lock up all the shit racing through my head and focus on the now, like the fact Graham approves of me somehow.
Jasmine returns a second later, looking curiously hopeful between the two of us.
“We're all good,” Graham says to her.
