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I’m acting and sounding like a maniac. Worse than a maniac.
I look like a man whose been up all night staring at an apartment building, thinking of her.
Thinking how perfect it would be if I followed her or spoke to her.
Or… I could just run my mouth like a psycho, accuse her of something between her and her courier of all things, and ruin any chance I might have at conversation, let alone what I know is destiny between us—basically, do everything wrong.
Dammit!
I’ve blown it. I see the hurt anger it’s generated in her eyes. It’s a hurt that matches the size of my instant regret. I can’t bear to be the one to cause her sadness.
Her baby blues are hard and serious, eying the door again, but not looking for a way out. They’re signaling me to leave.
I’ve had my fair share of tough clients, cross-examining witnesses, and dealing with the worst of the worst of humankind when I was doing that thing I do so well in a courtroom.
But nothing’s stopped me in my tracks quicker and harder than the look Jasmine gives me.
I know whatever I say or do will just make this worse.
Against every instinct, against every fiber of my being, I turn on my heel and leave. I don’t look back.
I can’t.
Seeing the look I know she’s wearing would be too much to bear. And as sure as I’ve blown it once, I’d only blow it open a little wider with any attempt to backpedal from the lunatic all-star cycling team I just joined.
I get halfway down the street when I start to curse myself. Under my breath at first, still shaking my head, but by the time I reach a crosswalk, I’m having a full-blown argument with myself and out loud.
All those people you see on the street? The so-called “crazy” ones who talk and swear to themselves?
They’re just reliving that one time they had a chance in their life. That one second out of the years they waited.
And they fucked it up like I just have.
I’m not too far from beating my own brow by the time I cross the street.
Foot traffic and cars are moving out of my way as I stagger in disbelief. A man my size looking and acting the way I am? People are going to move.
Amazed but bitterly sore, I just acted like such a total and complete ass.
It must be a dozen or so blocks before I realize I have no idea where I am. In an instant, I stop and check myself. I then remind myself that James Jones, the hotshot attorney turned shameless success story, doesn’t get rattled by anything… until today.
I groan because I know it’s a day of firsts, and lasts, too, by the look of things.
Jasmine hasn’t just rattled me. She’s turned the whole machine upside down and shook out the insides.
Everything I thought I was. Everything I thought I had is nothing compared to that feeling when I looked into her eyes—that feeling of peace and calm as though I’m right where I need to be.
And it sure as hell isn’t something I can walk away from.
Great time to realize that, champ. You must be five miles from her by now. Oh, and she thinks you’re nuttier than a bag of squirrels…
Shit.
“James… James!” someone calls out. There’s the honk of a horn, and I look up.
Only then do I notice how hard it’s raining.
As I realize I’m soaked, I put a name to the face calling out from across the street.
