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Her friend Tia is a bad influence, but me telling her to stop seeing her would not be a wise thing to do. Especially since I've not talked to her since she ran out of my room in tears. Am I going to apologize for my behavior? A laugh escapes my lips. Not a chance in hell.
Watching her in the supermarket is taxing my nerves. I don't like people staring at her, and the young man following her around is about to meet my fists. As Jasmine turns the corner, I grab the little shit by the scuff of the neck and haul him backward.
He tries to take a swing at me, but I dodge and push him into the aisle, making the damn food cart he’s holding topple over. "Hey man, what the fuck?"
He takes one look at me and pales. "Mr. Groveton. I'm..."
"Stalking a young female student around a damn grocery store. What is wrong with you?" I'm a goddamn hypocrite. I'm doing the exact same thing, but that's none of his concern.
He puts his hands up in a way that shows me he doesn’t want any drama, but it’s too late for that. "I'm sorry. I'll leave. It's just that I have her in my psych class and wanted to ask her if she wanted to be a study partner with me."
He's twitching under my gaze, and I know he's not lying, but he's fishy. I hate when people act dodgy. "Get out of here and don't even think about talking to her."
"Yes, of course, Mr. Groveton." He doesn't walk away. Hell no, he runs. I laugh as he flees. But as soon as I turn around, I no longer see her, and a slight bit of panic fills me. I walk quickly along the outside lane of the aisles, trying to find her.
When I spot her, she's in the ice cream section. To be honest, a girl with a healthy appetite makes me happy, but seeing her looking around and not choosing anything, pisses me off. It makes me want to egg her on.
"Hello, Jasmine."
She jumps. Again. It's so cute that she's so engrossed in her task that I can scare her. I love to see her breasts bounce.
"Hi, Mr. Groveton." The little brat doesn't turn to me as she opens the door, then lets it close. Why is she hesitating to get ice cream?
"I'm sure you can eat anything in this section. It seems to be your favorite." Fuck. That came out a bit too harsh.
"Yes, well, not all of us can look like Greek gods. If you'll excuse me, I need to get going." She turns to leave, and I growl.
"I don't remember dismissing you." Catching up with her, I put my cart in front of hers and glare down at her.
"Well, we aren't at college, and this is a free country." Oh, my buttercup has some sharp claws. Good girl, it's on the tip of my tongue to call her that, but I reel it in for now. She's going to have to earn my praise.
"Your mother told me to check in on you. You haven't called her in a day or two. While I'm not particularly happy with the fact your mother feels it’s alright to call me, I want to know what you are doing. Why are you worrying your mother?"
She looks at me and puts her hands on her hips. "Like you really care, Mr. Groveton." She pushes my cart out of the way, and I chuckle, following her.
"You're right. I don't give a fuck, but it seems like my father is invested in your smart ass, and I have to find out why. What makes you so goddamn worthy of his concern?”
I think my words are more hateful than I want them to feel. She looks at me, sad and with pity. That pisses me off, but I keep my composure. “If you must know, it's because your father, my step-grandfather-in-law, likes me. I read to him in Greek and in Spanish. He finds my ability to make each character have their own unique accent cool. You know your ancestor's language, ones I’ve heard you have all but abandoned?"
She has my number right now and doesn’t even know it. The cruel thing about this is that she speaks the truth and doesn’t rub it in my face. There’s no superiority in her tone. My only response is one of irritation. "Ah, so you've got a brown nose then. Good to know. Let's see if you can keep that habit with me."
She doesn’t engage with me, and I am impressed. I almost feel like a damn teenager at the moment. We stand in line, waiting to check out. I ditch my cart because I don't have a damn thing in it. Jasmine puts items on the belt, and I softly move her. "Let me." She gives me a huff but doesn't argue with me. Yeah, she's going to be a prickly little thing.
I take in what she's wearing today. A pink silky shirt, black cardigan, black slacks, and pink Mary Jane shoes. Adorable. Just fucking adorable and I don't want to do anything to take that away from her. But I'm going to.
"This doesn't look like the food you would eat." I'm not being rude, just making an observation.
"It's not for me. It's for Tia." She hands the cashier the money, and the bagger moves to take the groceries out.
"I've got it." Giving the kid a look that saysyou touch anything and I'll pound you, keeps him from moving. Good decision on his part. I'd hate to have to go to jail over a damn busted nose.
"I don't need your assistance." Oh, little buttercup, you are cruising for a big ass whooping.
"Don't recall asking you for your opinion." Pushing the cart to her car with her protesting the entire way, I laugh. "Look, which car is yours?"
I already know it's a black BMW with pink wheels. The girl is a damn goth-like Barbie but in a much better package.
"This one." She presses a button, and the back end comes up on her SUV.
