[chapter nine]
Disclaimer: If you've heard of them, I don't own them. Everything else is mine, so no stealing, pretty please. ;-)
**
~Jasmine's POV~
"It's just so easy." I giggle as I flop on the couch next to Scout. "He just … he looks scared, then blushes, then avoids the question."
"You're mean, dude." Jon laughs. "The guy is gonna hate you."
"The funny thing is … I think he likes it. He likes being knocked off kilter. If he didn't, he would have either told me to knock it off or avoided me by now."
"He may not like it, but he likes you. He was eyeing you like a dying man looks at a mirage in the desert." Scout says. "He's hot for you."
"Yeah, right."
"It's true."
"What the hell would Jeff Gordon see in me?"
"Everything, Jas. Everything he's never had before."
I'm sure he's had plenty. Maybe not Brooke, but plenty of 'everything' he wants. Because he's, well, Jeff Gordon.
"But he's just so … good." I lament and both boys laugh.
"Maybe you need someone good." Scout says, and I throw him an evil stare. "What?!" He defends. "Surely you've noticed the series of not-nice guys you've hooked up with in the last few years. You seem to date guys who treat you poorly - granted, you're tough enough not to have it affect you. But maybe good is what you need, you just don't want to admit it."
"Shuddup."
"I'm trying to help. You and Jeff are probably more alike than you care to admit. His ex-wife was clearly a not-nice girl. He's just not as tough as you at bouncing back, at keeping his own soul intact."
"Scout?"
"Yeah?"
"Stop helping."
And now that I'm lying in bed, my conversation with the guys is still reverberating in my ears. I don't know what the deal is. What my deal is.
I don't like Jeff Gordon.
I don't.
He's boring, he's stuffy, he's totally passive and isn't the sort of guy I'd ever be attracted to.
So that's that. I'm just working for him.
He is sorta cute though.
In a too-tidy way.
Shut up, brain!
(the following afternoon)
Mmm. Scruffy.
He hasn't shaved in a few days. He's looking decidedly rumpled. And damn if those jeans don't fit just right.
Shup up, brain!
"Well, can we rip it down? I mean, it's sorta ugly."
Huh?
Oh yeah, I'm working here.
"Yeah, we can strip it and either paint the walls, or put up new paper, whichever you prefer." I say after a few seconds of looking at the hideously ugly wallpaper in one of the downstairs bathrooms.
"You choose." Jeff says, looking at me with a smile. "You're trained for this. I'm just a guy."
"Truer words were never spoken. Guys are never good at this stuff." I tease and he laughs.
"But that's why you get paid the big bucks." He smiles and I grin in return.
"Speaking of … " I joke and he looks stricken. "Kidding, kidding."
"Do you need … "
I wave him off with my hand. "I know where you live. No worries."
He sighs and relaxes visibly as I throw my sketch book into my shoulder bag, taking a last look around to make sure I haven't forgotten anything.
"Can I ask you a personal question?" His voice is quiet behind me.
I turn around to face him, my eyes nearly even with his. "Maybe."
"Have you eaten dinner?"
That's the personal question? That's the personal question?
"That's the personal question?"
"Um … yeah."
"No, I haven't."
"Would you like to?"
"With you?" I can't resist asking, trying to keep the surprise from my voice.
He looks at me, wounded. Damn, I guess I didn't do a very good job.
"You usually ask out women who work for you?" I ask instead.
"I don't usually ask out women, period." He admits, his face reddening as he turns away to straighten an already straight pile of files and folders on his table.
"On three conditions." I relent after a few seconds, and he whirls back around, his face lighting up.
God, he looks like the most adorable little boy right now.
"One, we take your bike."
"Done. Two?"
"You tell me what the hell your name is again."
A smile slowly spreads over his face as he walks several steps towards me until we are barely a foot apart. "Jeff. Gordon." He says slowly, enunciating, and I narrow my eyes, as though really concentrating on what he says. "Three?"
"You promise to blush when I ask you all sorts of embarrassing and nosey questions at dinner."
"I don't think you'll have to worry about that."
"Good." I say, pulling
on my leather coat. "Let's go."