Friends

Chapter 32

A/N: Chapters 33-54 are on Patreon along with other exclusive scenes if you want to check those out!

Marcqwuan's POV:

You've gotta be kidding me. She moved all the way to California for years, and now, all of a sudden, she's back? Not only that, but she just so happens to be back right now, when Jasmine and I are going on our first date? This can't be a coincidence.

I'm trying to figure out what's going on in my head. I don't know much about woman language, but I do know that the phrase "lil' friend" might sound innocent, but it's definitely not a compliment. The look on Jasmine's face tells me this was no casual comment—it was an insult.

Great, just what I need. The last thing I want is to be caught in the middle of this.

"Long time no see, Maria. This is my friend Jasmine," I say, hoping that's the right move. I feel like I'm walking on eggshells, not sure if I've said the right thing or if I've made it worse.

Maria's smile stretches wider, but it's one of those smiles that doesn't reach her eyes—it's the kind of smile you give when you're plotting something behind it. I can't shake the feeling that she's sizing up Jasmine, and I can't help but feel the tension rise in the air.

Why am I sweating?

"So, how do you know each other, Marc?" Jasmine asks, her smile turning sharper. She's still looking at me, but there's something in her tone, like she's inspecting me from all angles.

"This is an old friend, Maria. I haven't seen her in years since she moved to California. When did you get back?" I ask, trying to steer the conversation toward neutral ground. I can already feel my palms getting sweaty, unsure if I've made things better or worse.

"I actually just got back yesterday. We have so much catching up to do," Maria says, her eyes still locked on me, no longer even acknowledging Jasmine.

Okay, so we're ignoring Jasmine now? I glance at Jasmine, and there it is—her smile's still there, but it's a little too tight, like she's trying to hold back something. Maybe she's just being polite, but I can't help but wonder if something's off.

We need to get out of this awkward limbo and order food, I think. The last thing I want is to have some awkward silence hanging between us.

"Well, we'll both take water to start if you don't mind," I say, trying to get things moving, not wanting the tension to build any further.

"You want your favorite appetizer too?" Maria asks, still not acknowledging Jasmine. She's speaking directly to me like Jasmine's not even there. "I know how much you love your favorite appetizer. All the times I've served you, you've always gotten it." Why is she talking like that? She's talking to me, but it almost seems like she wants Jasmine to listen.

"That would be great, thanks. Also, can you get Jasmine a sweet tea?" I ask, hoping to bring a little normalcy to the situation.

"How'd you know I wanted sweet tea?" Jasmine says, sounding a little surprised.

"Besides the gallons of sweet tea that's accumulated in our fridge since we've been living together, just a really educated guess," I say, trying to lighten the mood. Hopefully, it'll make everyone relax.

"Oh, you two live together?" Maria asks, still acting like Jasmine doesn't exist.

"Yes, we live together. He's like my own personal heater and cuddlebug," Jasmine says with a huge smile, as if she's trying to show that she's okay with all this. But something about the way she said it doesn't quite feel right.

Cuddlebug? I blink, thrown off. She's never called me that before. My confusion rises, and I can feel the air growing thick around us. What is happening?

"You're so lucky. Marc is the best cuddler," Maria says, placing her hand on my shoulder. She looks over at Jasmine, but her smile is more of a smug, victorious one. "His big, bulky muscles just make you feel so safe... and so small," she says, practically purring the last words.

Okay, so now it feels like we're in a smile-off. I don't know much about the woman language, but I'm pretty sure that smile wasn't genuine. And the way she said it—there was something behind those words that made it sound like she was taunting Jasmine.

I can feel the heat rising in the room, and suddenly, I feel like I'm on the edge of a cliff, ready to fall into some kind of conflict I don't know how to handle.

What do I do?

I clear my throat, trying to redirect things before they get worse.

"Maria, my throat is really dry," I say, holding my throat dramatically, pretending to gag. It's a pathetic attempt, but maybe it'll distract everyone from this weird vibe.

"Sure thing, love," Maria responds, still smiling, and I can tell she's got that "I'm winning" look in her eyes as she turns away.

"Thank you so much," I say, watching her leave. But before I turn my head, I feel it—that stare. A feeling of pure heat, like someone's eyes are drilling into my skin, and I can only describe it as demonic energy.

Universe, please don't let it be Jasmine staring at me.

I turn slowly, and—there she is. Her eyes are piercing me, as though she's hoping I'll combust right there on the spot. I feel like I've been caught in some sort of psychic trap. What happened? This wasn't the evening I imagined.

"So, who's that?" Jasmine asks, her smile still fixed on her face, but I can tell she's not happy. Not at all.

It's like she's asking, but she already knows the answer—and she's not okay with it.