Their Broken Pieces by Jessica Gomez

Chapter Forty-Five

Alex

 

 

The afternoon began with a swim with Brandy, Carlos, and his girl, Lacey. Then we walked around the beach and now we’re drinking at the bar next to our hotel. I’m trying not to think about Jasmine and failing miserably, trying to use Brandy, kissing her, touching her body to distract me, but nothing’s working; her angles are all wrong, her curves are off, and the taste of her lips… dull.

I’m tingling and warm from the booze we’ve been drinking for the last couple of hours. One of my guys was able to get us an in with the bartender. Beer is a suitable tool for helping me forget Brandy isn’t who I want.

Placing my hand on the pillar next to her head, I lean into her, trying to wipe away the pictures that keep flashing behind my closed lids every time I blink. Jasmine smiling, Jasmine laying under me, Jasmine telling me she loves me. Stop!

When I open my eyes, gravity yanks them to the left. The only thing they focus on is my angel, as if my thoughts conjured her. She’s dressed all in white, her halter dress showing off her perky breasts and smooth curves, that, at this moment, I would die to get my hands on again.

When the tunnel vision clears, I see a familiar face next to her, Kahale, our surfing instructor. That motherfucker. I knew he wanted her. She meets my eyes as if summoned and they’re calm, revealing no emotion. I’m trying to figure out if she doesn’t care, or if she has her game face on. After what I did this morning, the outcome could go either way.

Kahale places his hand at the small of her back, splaying his fingers to get a better feel. I’m about to leave Brandy to kick Kahale’s ass when I realize I have no claim to her. I left her.

By some miracle, I stay grounded. Why is he here? Is she trying to get back at me? Or worse, did she bring him back for something else? Would she be with someone else so soon? As much as I want to go to her, make all of this disappear and tell her I made a horrible mistake, I know the next move is to up the ante. Instead of doing what I’m dying to, a piece of my soul fractures as I lean in and kiss Brandy, breaking my heart with each movement of my lips.

By the time I break away, she’s no longer there, having walked off to our room with Kahale. The only thing that keeps me planted is Brandy’s voice.

“You want to take this party to my room?” She pulls my hand, walking me toward her room.

Silence is my answer because if I mutter a word, the word would be no.

She walks us down the first floor hallway, a few doors away from the front desk, and inserts the key card, disengaging the lock as the door clicks open, allowing us entrance.

“Here we are,” she announces in a singsong voice.

The voice in my head is beating the shit out of me as my legs continue forward with an I don’t give a fuck attitude. Right away, it’s obvious that Brandy wants to get down. By the time I reach the bed and turn around, half of her clothes are already off; shirt and skirt hit the floor with soft a poof on the shitty carpet. She’s standing across from me in a blue bikini set. Usually, I’d be sporting an empalme, but I’m limp as shit. She does nothing for me.

She saunters over with certainty. She’s not turned down often, if at all; it’s plain to see in her confident strut. But she’s not Jasmine. My heart constricts in my chest, and my breathing turns ragged. Brandy reads my reaction wrong, thinking that she’s causing my response. I try talking myself into her, thinking it’d be a good way to get Jasmine out of my system permanently, but when I think about dirtying up our beautiful night together, I’d rather die. Nothing could top what she shared with me.

I close my eyes tight, pretending the alcohol is overwhelming me. Brandy chooses not to notice or care, because she only has one thing on her mind, and that’s getting me undressed and in bed.

You would think that bringing Brandy to bed and taking her isn’t that difficult. The old Navarro would have had her undressed and having his way with her before we even finished walking through the door. But Jasmine has ruined all of that. No other female could compare.

“Fuck,” I murmur under my breath, my conscience battling itself.

Again, Brandy reads me wrong, something Jasmine never does. She knows me inside and out, almost better than I know myself. I’m still lost in my thoughts when Brady reaches the bed, knocking me back, and straddling me.

“You see something you like?” she asks.

The words freeze me in place. They’re the same words Jasmine asked last night. There’s no way I can do this.

“Brandy…” I begin. “I can’t do this.”

I push her to the side, onto the bed, and toss her clothes to her. She covers herself protectively, as if I’m going to take advantage of her. I shake my head and dash to the door.

She remains quiet as I open the door and leave. Once I’m in the hallway, I realize I have nowhere to go. Just because I couldn’t follow through with Brandy, doesn’t mean I can go back to my room. Jasmine’s still there… and possibly not alone. It’s better for us to have this between us. She’s seen me with Brandy, and if I neglect to come back to the room tonight, she’ll think the worst, and that’s a better plan; one that will push her further away.

Instead, Carlos gets a new roommate tonight.

He lets me in after the third knock. He’s kicked his roommate out for the evening and seems to have already taken care of business, since Lacey, the girl he was messing with earlier, is dressing in the background, readying herself to leave.

“Sorry, man. Didn’t realize you had company.” I offer a half-assed apology as I head toward the TV. Nothing like a little brain rot to make you forget your worries.

No es ningun problema. I figured you would stop by sometime tonight.” Carlos walks the girl to the door, whispering sweet nothings to her, and lets her out into the night. When he turns back to me, he asks, “You close the deal with Brandy?” He has a knowing smirk on his face. He already knows the answer, but he’s being a dick and asking anyway.

“No,” I answer and flop on the bed, pulling the crook of my elbow over my eyes.

“She’s messed you up, huh?” If it were anyone else, my fist would be in their face, but this is Carlos. He’s gotten too close.

I groan in response, and he chuckles under his breath.

“All right, man, when you’re ready.” He clicks the light out. “I’m going to bed. You’re welcome to stay,” he offers, climbing into his bed.

“Thanks,” I say, even though I don’t need his permission. I’m the leader. But then, Carlos and I have a unique relationship than the rest of my gang. He’s as close to blood as you get.