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Homicide took out his phone and asked Jasmine for her number. She gave him her regular cell phone number, and he told her he was going to call her, so she could lock his number in.
“We gotta link up,” he told her.
Jasmine couldn’t stop smiling. She leaned in to Homicide. “You know you were the first boy I ever had a crush on?”
Homicide looked at Jasmine and didn’t say anything in response. All he could do was look at how sexy she looked and imagine what it would be like to fuck her. He wasn’t sure if he could fuck her that night, but he was definitely going to try.
“You still a Muslim?”
“No doubt.”
“I can see you aren’t a nerd anymore.”
“Nah, these streets changed a muthafucka.”
Jasmine nodded her head.
“As sexy as you is, I know you got a man or something.”
“Long story.”
Homicide took Jasmine’s response to mean that she wasn’t putting up any resistance. “So what you doing after you leave here?”
Jasmine shrugged. “Nothing. I just have to make sure my cousin gets home okay, and I’m free.”
“That’s what’s up. So let me take you to get a drink or something. We can hang out and just kick it.”
Jasmine nodded.
As the game went on, neither Jasmine nor Homicide paid any attention to the score or the outcome. They were both just so much into each other.
Homicide’s main thoughts were about smashing Jasmine that night, and he wasn’t really trying to think past that. But Jasmine’s emotions were having a field day with her. She didn’t know how to describe her feelings. The only word she could come up with was nostalgic.
Jasmine knew she had to stay focused. She hoped that nostalgia wouldn’t compromise her mission as a confidential informant.
Thirty-One
Jasmine woke up at three in the morning in her SoHo apartment, and for a moment she forgot where she was. It was the first time that she had actually slept there, so the unfamiliar surroundings had thrown her off. In addition, her head was pounding from all the liquor she’d drunk hanging with Homicide after the Knicks game.
Jasmine realized that Homicide was no longer in the bed with her. She had ended up bringing him back to her apartment and fucking him, and after they had finished fucking, they both fell asleep. What Jasmine didn’t realize was that Homicide had never actually fallen asleep. He had just waited for her to fall asleep, so he could case her apartment.
While Jasmine had slept, Homicide went through her bag, her clothes, her closets, and her phone. Going through her phone, he saw Nico’s name, BJ’s name, Lorenzo’s name, Ish, Bebo and a bunch of other drug dealers, so he immediately knew how Jasmine got down and exactly how she got her money.
Homicide was looking through Jasmine’s government-issued phone and trying to figure out how to get to her text messages. He was familiar with BlackBerry phones but had never seen that particular model before. As he was trying to figure out the phone, Jasmine walked into the kitchen of the apartment and caught him by surprise.
“Hey,” Jasmine said, sounding real groggy, her eyes squinting from the light in the kitchen.
“Yeah, yeah,” Homicide replied, and he stood up and placed Jasmine’s phone on the counter.
Jasmine saw the phone, and her heart started pounding. “Everything okay?” she asked. She saw that Homicide was fully dressed.
Homicide walked up to her and gave her a hug. “Listen, I’m about to bounce. Some shit came up, and I gotta get back to BK.”
Jasmine was wearing a long T-shirt with nothing else underneath. She wondered if Homicide could feel her heart pounding, so she quickly pulled away from his hug and retrieved her phone.
“Your phone was vibrating crazy.”
“Please tell me you didn’t answer it.”
