Their Broken Pieces by Jessica Gomez

Chapter Twenty-Three

Alex

 

 

Carlos came through with the party favors. The beer is doing its job and helping me forget Jasmine. We make it down to the beach an hour before Angeline and her friends show.

Some locals told me about this place. They’re right, it’s awesome. Palm trees surround the entire cove, and the sand glows white in the dipping sun. Our new hangout sits a few miles down shore from the hotel, then turns like a long L shape. In the bend sits a high waterfall that falls into a deep swimming hole.

There’s already a fire pit, with log seats surrounding the flames. The fire is easy to start, not that we need it for the warmth, but the light.

All I can think about is Jasmine out on her date with Andrew, him touching her, kissing her. I squeeze my eyelids closed tightly, trying to block out the images. I’m anxiously waiting for Angeline to arrive, to provide me with a much-needed distraction because all I can see is raven hair, pale skin, and wide blue eyes framed by long lashes. Just thinking of her excites and confuses me, driving home the reason to put those thoughts of her in the past, because tonight, I’m going to drown out these images and replace them with the spicy and very willing Angeline.

I’m a few beers in when they show. The sun has dropped past the horizon, sending everything into darkness against the fire. When Angeline walks up, her body illuminates next to the fire. She’s smoking hot, enhanced by the alcohol in my system. She’s wearing very short jean shorts with frayed edges and a barely there black bikini top tied behind her back and neck.

“Hey, baby,” Angeline says as she leans down and kisses me. “I missed you,” she purrs. I can see her looking around for somewhere to sit.

“Come here.” I pull her onto my lap, ready for the distractions to begin.

She kisses me again and this time I can smell the weed on her breath. “How long have you been here?” she asks.

“About an hour.” I shrug.

She reaches into the tiny piece of fabric covering her left breast and pulls out a joint. Smoking is normally not my thing, but I’ve never wanted a distraction so badly. I take a few drags when she lights it and hands it over.

We pass it to the others and grab a beer. The first one goes down fast… so do the second and third. By that time, we decide to move the party to the water. Angeline strips down to a very nice, barely there, black bikini, and I watch her as she dances around in the water.

I’m feeling good and buzzed; Jasmine evaded my mind all night… until now. I pull my phone out and stare at the clock… 10:40 pm. I wonder what she’s doing right now. I can’t help but hope she canceled with stupid. Even though I hate his guts, she can choose who she wants to be with, even if it’s him. Wanting to have her for myself is selfish. I could never give her what she wants or deserves, so this shit has to end. But I know all Andrew wants is to get into her pants. I’ve used all the same moves on potentials that he’s using on Jasmine, and I cannot allow him to take advantage of her, but she’s smart enough to see him for what he is, and if that’s what she chooses, more power to her.

Angeline’s friends brought a couple of blankets that we laid out. They pay off when my spicy date gets out of the water and saunters over to me. Straddling her wet body over the top of mine, she leans down and kisses me. Even though I’m drunk, I still remember I don’t like the sloppy way she kisses. I move my mouth from hers, and as planned, she kisses my neck.

“I brought a few condoms, mi novio.” She pulls three from her shorts that are sitting next to us.

First, I want to get things straight. “You need to stop calling me novio, muñeca. I’m not your man. You know what this is.”

She sits up to look me in the eye. I see disappointment for a brief second before the drugs and alcohol take over. “That’s all right. I knew it was a long shot.”

I feel bad for hurting her feelings, but come on. I’m on vacation, and I’m not looking for some long-distance bullshit. I can’t date anyone, even if I wanted to. “Don’t be mad, mamacita,” I whisper against her ear, turning her back on easily.

She kisses me again, moving her lips over my body, trailing down my bare chest. Carlos is hooking up with the chick he was trying to hit last night. The others are closer to the fire talking, ignoring us. My mind wanders, and I imagine Jasmine’s lips on mine, her tongue gliding across my skin, whispering my name. I want it so much that her name slips through my lips.

“Jasmine,” I moan, like each letter is pure bliss.

“What did you just say?” Angeline’s face contorts with anger.

The realization hits me about what I just did. I can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up in my throat. “Sorry,” I tell her.

“Sorry? Sorry! That’s all you’re going to say. Who’s Jasmine?” Her voice is rising as she slips off my body.

Next to us, Carlos is laughing. “I told you, man,” he says, then returns to his girl.

“Angeline, I said I was sorry. If you want to leave, I understand.” Standing is not worth the effort. I couldn’t care less if she stays or goes.

“Who’s Jasmine?” she asks again.

“I’m not telling you.” It’s too personal. She doesn’t need to know who she is, and I want to keep her to myself.

Angeline is tapping her bare foot in the sand. Her face is blazing with anger, but I can tell she’s not going anywhere… even though she knows I’m thinking about someone else.