Friends

Chapter 49

A/N: Chapter 50-103 along with other exclusive content can be found on my Patreon!

Jasmine's POV:

I tap my screen and re-angle my phone on the dashboard. Nya's face pops back up on FaceTime, looking way too entertained for someone who's supposed to be on my side.

"Bitch, where the fuck did you get binoculars from?" Nya asks, her voice high-pitched with disbelief.

"I got them from Amazon," I mumble. "That's not important," I add quickly when she starts laughing even harder.

This looks bad. And okay—maybe it is bad. Sitting outside your almost-boyfriend's apartment in your car, hoodie up, sunglasses on, like you're auditioning for a bad reality show about crazy exes? Not my proudest moment.

But it's not stalking if you're worried about his emotional well-being. Right?

"You're insane," she says between cackles. "Is this what we've been reduced to? Stalking? You look like you're about to kidnap him."

"Girl, you were stalking all of Jacob's socials and you two hadn't even met yet!" I snap back.

"Girl, bye," Nya wheezes, wiping tears from her eyes. "I was stalking that man online. You're outside this man's house in 4K. That's a hundred times worse."

"I'm not stalking him," I hiss, ducking lower even though no one's around. "I'm... observing."

"Observing?" Nya raises an eyebrow. "From the shadows? In a hoodie and sunglasses? In a Nissan with the engine off 'cause you don't wanna waste gas? Girl. I know your ass is freezing—it's like 60 degrees in Atlanta right now."

"If he didn't want me observing him, he shouldn't have shared his location with me," I argue.

"Girl, you told him it was for safety reasons! Like if you ever got kidnapped or some shit!"

I huff. "I am doing it for safety. His safety."

She cackles. "Oh, this I gotta hear."

I hold up a finger, channeling my inner lawyer.

"One," I say. "He's emotionally vulnerable right now. What if Maria says something that messes with his head? Guilt-trips him into thinking he owes her something?"

Nya tilts her head. "Okay. That's... one very paranoid possibility."

Nya dramatically sips her iced coffee. "Mhm. Continue, Detective Hot Mess."

"And two," I say, holding up three fingers, "if he does slip—which he won't, but IF—don't I deserve to know immediately? Instead of sitting at home refreshing my phone like a loser?"

Nya blinks slowly. "So your solution to not being crazy... was to come be crazy in person?"

I open my mouth. Close it. Damn. She has a point. But I rally.

"It's loyalty-based concern," I declare proudly. "Not stalking."

"Girl, it's giving Law and Order: SVU. Stalking Victims Unit."

I snort, covering my mouth to keep from laughing too loud.

"And besides," I add, a little quieter, "I'm not gonna do anything. I'm just making sure he's okay. That's it."

Nya smirks. "You know you're gonna get caught, right? You're about as subtle as a marching band."

I duck even lower as a neighbor walks by.

"No, I'm not," I whisper. "I'm blending."

"Girl, why are you whispering?"

"Focus," I hiss. "Detective Hot Mess is on the case."

"So, Detective," Nya says, barely keeping a straight face. "Have we found anything yet?"

I adjust the binoculars—and nearly fall out of my seat.

"Oh my God. Oh my GOD," I whisper-shriek into the phone.

"What? WHAT?!" Nya shouts. "Girl, don't whisper now! This is a team mission!"

I clutch the steering wheel with one hand, binoculars pressed to my face with the other.

"Her blinds are wide open," I gasp. "Full panoramic view. No shame. And she's sitting on the couch—in lingerie!"

"WHAT?!" Nya shrieks so loud I flinch.

"I'm serious!" I hiss. "Like Victoria's Secret 2009 Fashion Show type lingerie. She's just posted up like a damn exhibit!"

"Describe it!" Nya demands. "What kind of lingerie are we talking? Savage X Fenty? Or like, church lady lingerie?"

"BITCH, IT'S BLACK. STRAPPY. DETAILED. SIN." I'm hyperventilating.

"She's doing this on purpose!" Nya screeches.

"I know!" I whisper-scream.

"What's she doing now?" Nya demands like she's coaching me through a hostage negotiation.

"She's just... sitting there. Leg crossed. Hair down. Looking like she's waiting for someone to come devour her."

Nya lets out a string of cuss words so fast I can't even catch them.

"Oh, she's playing dirty," she says, full of horror and awe. "She knew you'd see that shit. She WANTED you to see it."

"She's treating her living room like a thirst trap!" I whisper-yell.

"IS MARC THERE YET?!" Nya demands.

"I DON'T KNOW! I DON'T SEE HIM!" I'm practically throwing the binoculars around like I'm in a military stakeout.

"BITCH, HOW YOU A SPY BUT GOT NO SPOTTING SKILLS?" Nya howls.

"WAIT—I SEE HIM! HE'S STANDING ACROSS THE ROOM!"

"CALM YOUR ASS DOWN AND ZOOM."

My heart's pounding so hard I can barely hear her anymore.

"I'm gonna text him," I whisper urgently.

"NO!" Nya screams. "Girl, what?! Are you TRYING to blow your cover?!"

"I just want to see what he says!" I argue, fingers already flying across my screen.

"Girl, what if he checks his phone and looks out the window?! Your ass is grass!"

"I'll be smooth," I whisper, ducking even lower.

"You are LITERALLY stalking this man. There is NOTHING smooth about this situation!" Nya cries.

But it's too late. I'm already typing.