She had just packed the hairdryer away when he came out of the bathroom. He was looking way too sexy for a hike and she tried to not get too distracted by his damp, disheveled hair and snug-fitting, grey T-shirt.
“Well, it’s about time,” she complained. “You probably used up a small dam. This has to be a new record. Forty-five minutes? No one takes that long in the shower. What the hell do you do in there?”
A wide grin split his face, one that looked almost…naughty, and it matched the playfulness in his eyes. “Guy stuff.”
“Oh, you’re one of those metrosexuals, huh?”
He laughed and, for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what was so funny. “Yeah, that’s it.” His eyes scanned her up and down again, focusing on her tight tank top. “That’s new.”
He wasn’t looking at her face, so it felt like he was talking to her cleavage.
“Oh…yeah,” she said, actively trying to hide her nervousness. “I-I thought I’d take your advice…and…and give the big T-shirts a break. Is it…is it a bit…better?”
“Not better. Same gift, different package.”
For a minute, neither of them said anything. It was another staring contest, his eyes flicking between her mouth and her breasts. The fact that she was wearing clothes now was irrelevant, because he seemed to be seeing right through them. It wasn’t necessarily awkward, but definitely tense. The way he looked at her made her want things she didn’t know a body could want. It was a craving, the way a body craves food or water, she was craving to have him on top of her again, almost desperate to feel his lips on hers. Was that normal?
After their make-out session yesterday, her breasts just responded to him without any stimulation and heat pooled between her legs. Her nipples did that funny thing again and she resisted the urge to cover them up. That would make it so obvious. He must have still noticed it, though, because that naughty grin was on his face when his wandering eyes finally lifted to meet hers.
“We need to get the fuck out of this room, Jasmin.”
She only nodded because she didn’t trust her voice at that moment. She tugged on a thick, zip-up hoodie and walked out first.
They had breakfast with Lance and the other four people going up with them today. Jasmin was grateful for the presence of other people. The tension between them seemed to simmer. He still glanced at her from across the table every now and then, but she found that if she pretended to listen to stories about Barry and Sheryl’s romantic second honeymoon in Arizona, it was much easier to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.
Her phone rang and her good mood instantly dissipated. Flashing on the screen was her father’s number and she wasn’tsure if she should answer. Maybe he’d received the credit card bills. She hadn’t been modest with her spending and, frankly, she didn’t care how much trouble she would get into. She excused herself from the table and found a quiet spot outside before she answered.
“Howzit, Dad,” she answered apprehensively.
“Hi, Bhajia.”
She half smiled at the nickname. It was interchangeable withchili bitebecause he always said she was just like the Indian treat—small with just enough spice to make her feisty. His jolly tone indicated that he hadn’t seen the statements, so why was he calling?
“How are you?” he asked.
“Fine.”
“What are you doing?”
“Sightseeing.” At least that wasn’t a lie. Her clipped responses hadn’t gone unnoticed, because she heard him sigh on the other end.
“I’m sorry I can’t be there with you.”
Obviously not sorry enough, otherwise he would have gone to Montana when he promised. “You’re busy. I understand.”
“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
Oh, more promises. She was too delighted to answer.
“Jasmintha, I know that since we moved here we haven’t spent much time together.” Try none at all. “And that’s my fault. This new hotel is a thorn in my side, but as soon as it’s up and running, things will change.”
Until the next project comes along, she wanted to say, but she held her tongue and listened to more excuses and promises. It was difficult to determine which one she despised more. And it didn’t matter if things changed after this. He’d missed chunks of her childhood and that had worsened over the last three years. She simply didn’t need him anymore.
The other guests slowly began filing out and headed towards the bus. “Listen, Dad. I gotta go. I’m meeting some friends just now and I still need to do a few things before I go.”
“I’m so glad you’re making friends, Bhajia. Well, you have fun and…I love you. I love you very much.”
Those words were like nails on a chalkboard, painful for the brain to hear. She didn’t say it back and hung up. She needed to pull herself together. That call put her on edge. She appreciated the fact that he was trying to build a bridge over the gap between them, but she wanted him to acknowledge that he was the reason there was a gap in the first place. He brushed off broken promises like they meant nothing and then he ends the conversation withI love you. He hadn’t called in almost two weeks. Contrary to what he’d said, he didn’t care at all. His actions spoke far louder than his words.
