“Vodka,” I reply.
Jasmine grabs two shot glasses and fills them. One for her, one for me.
The moment the glass touches my fingertips, it frosts. It’s such a habit that I barely consider controlling it anymore.
Jasmine doesn’t miss it.
She stills, lashes lifting in my direction. I sip my drink as we watch one another, not daring to speak a word, and not bothering to hide what I just did. I wonder if she thinks she’s just imagined it. But the longer we stare at one another, I feel as if she’s putting it all together.
“I was watching the news this morning,” she says, taking my glass and pouring another. “They’re calling for a frost this weekend.”
Blaze would kick me under the table, curse me for the smirk on my lips, and tell me to keep my mouth shut. However, there’s a reason there are more stories about frost nipping at children’s noses than there are about the both of us. The Rumpus legend is an island legend. Anywhere else, my brother barely exists.
Something I hope to change.
“Does the frost help or hinder your business?” I ask her.
“Any other weekend it would be a hindrance. This weekend, though… It feeds the legend,” she says, sliding me another drink.
I leer broader and raise my shot glass to hers. “To the legend.”
Jasmine eyes me, but drinks nonetheless. She’s still watching me in the most scrutinizing way when I hear Juniper’s voice from the kitchen. It alerts my ears and shifts my attention. I’manticipating Juniper coming through the doors at any moment, already salivating at getting to taunt her again.
“Does she know?”
My eyes dart to Jasmine. “Know what?”
She opens her mouth a moment too late. Juniper comes out of the kitchen carrying the food for her table. She glances my way when she exits, and before I get the chance to thoroughly gawk, Jasmine clears her throat.
“You’re as bad as your twin,” she says, shaking her head. “He couldn’t stop staring either.”
“We have similar tastes,” I reply.
“Good thing.”
I can see the amusement in her eyes.
“She doesn’t believe in you two, you know,” she adds.
Interesting.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I reply.
I wink when Jasmine gives me a pursed lip look. She doesn’t say anything more as Juniper, at long last, makes her way behind the bar. She frowns between the two of us, clearly curious as to what we were just discussing.
“I’m scared to ask.”
“Just chatting,” Jasmine tells her. “I’m going to do some paperwork. Give me a shout if you need backup.”
“Will do,” Juniper replies. She glances between me and the vodka shot as Jasmine walks away. A twinge of pink remains on her cheeks and throat, and I’m wondering how far below the neckline of her dress it goes.
“I missed you,” I say, making her smile.
“I didn’t know you could miss someone you’ve only just met,” she replies.
“You’ve never had a feeling of something missing? Something that you didn’t know you craved until it was just within reach?” I ask.
She considers me for a moment before grabbing a tall glass and filling it up with ice and water. “Tell me something, Jax. Why did Nick not tell me you were his twin?”
