If I race back now and reverse time, I could go directly to Ben’s, get back into bed with him, and pick up where we left off, and Jasmine would be none the wiser. Spare us this awkward conversation that we’re having. And me from trying to explain what’s wrong when I’m caught between wanting Ben and wanting to hide under a rock.
“Charlie?”
“Sorry. I, um, had a great time. And then I left to come here.”
“I gather you left, because you’re standing in front of me, genius.” Jasmine shakes her head, half smiling. She adjusts her hair, which is caught up in a bun. “Keep going.”
“I…you know me. Not good with feelings and all that. It was just sex. One night of sex.”
“You pick people up regularly enough and don’t turn up here on Sunday mornings having some sort of meltdown. Why are you acting like you’ve just been with the vicar’s son and the vicar himself just caught you in the act?” Her eyes widen. “Don’t tell me he is actually the son of a vicar—I suppose itisSunday.”
“No! I mean, I don’t know if he’s the son of a vicar or the holy ghost or anything at all about him. Other than his name’s Ben and he’s fucking hot and a brilliant musician. And the sex was equally brilliant, for the record.”
I scowl and loudly drag a table back into place, nearly jumping out of my skin when Jasmine puts a hand on my arm. When I dare look at her, she’s gazing at me with wide blue eyes and a bemused expression.
“With my luck I did fuck the vicar’s son,” I say. “But even if his father is a vicar, presumably he’s in Scotland. I don’t have any other information to go on to tell me otherwise.”
“Well…I suppose you’d know if you hadn’t left.”
“Ouch, Jas. Go easy.”
She tilts her head. “You know it’s all right to let yourself have some fun, right? Everyone deserves a bit of that now and again. You just met him. It’s nothing serious. And yet the way you’re acting…”
I’m more overwhelmed than usual, thanks to having missed my meds last night. I can visualize the vial from the chemist sitting on top of my bureau. In my room. Where I’m not. In the pit of my stomach, anxiety rises in waves, and I could suffocate here and now, which would at least be merciful, but no.
Instead, I look at Jasmine, and Jasmine looks at me in stalemate.
I relent, gripping the back of a wooden chair. “I mean, it’s nothing serious. Just sex and all that. It won’t happen again.”
“Just sex and all that…which got to you.” She shakes her head. “Like I said, fun is allowed. I don’t think Emily would mind you having a life, right?”
My knuckles are white. How can I risk someone like Ben if I can’t even have a normal conversation with Jasmine?
“You don’t even need to say I was here. I won’t put today on my timecard, then.” I stare at my hands. “I’ll go soon, I promise.”
“Charles Renfrew.”
“Jasmine White.”
“Out with it,” she says. “But…for the record, I do think you’re a lovely man under the grump, and maybe Ben saw that?”
My head snaps up. Stung, I don’t know what to say. I gulp back air. “Maybe…”
“Maybe,” she agrees. “Did you have fun, at least?”
“Fuck, yes.”
“You deserve to have fun too, you know. For the record.”
“Oh God. Please. Let’s not talk about this anymore. We went out. We had fun. But you know I don’t date.”
“I do know that—but consider at least another date. Especially if you like him. It’s okay. More than okay. And heiscute.”
I look away from her and wipe down the coffee machine. Idolike Ben. Would it be so terrible to think of going out for a drink again? It was brilliant hanging out with him. And whenever I close my eyes, I’m back with Ben again, his mouth on mine and—
Stop. I can’t. It really was just a one-time thing.
Except it feels awful dismissing Ben like that. Like he didn’t matter.
