Jasmine
Aweekwentby,and I hadn’t heard from Blake since the last time we went hiking. Lucy had called me that night begging me to tell her all the details, but I just told her that we hiked and talked. She obviously didn’t believe me, but I wasn’t ready to start spilling all the details of what had happened yet. The whole thing felt like a dream, and I didn’t know how to make sense of it.
We were at work, and during a lull, she leaned over to me. “How’sBlake Sexy AFdoing?”
“I haven’t talked to him.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I’m not lying. I haven’t heard from him since last time.”
“Why don’t you text him and ask him to hang out?”
“Because I don’t want to.” In reality, I did want to, but I was too ashamed to actually do it, and ashamed of myself for wanting to. I didn’t want to seem eager and was still determined to not allow things to advance any further than they had.
“You’re definitely lying about that. I don’t think there’s a warm-blooded woman on this earth that wouldn’t want to hang out with him. I’m pretty sure he could even turn a lesbian straight.”
“Well, then I guess I must be cold-blooded. Maybe I’m a weregator.”
At that moment, a customer came in. I was thankful for the interruption forcing the end of the conversation. Lucy went to the register as additional customers came in and a line started to form again. I busied myself preparing all the orders.
I was working the late shift that day, so I would be leaving at four. After breakfast time was over, Lucy went out back to prep dough and decorate cakes with Valerie while I ran the register. She sometimes jumped in during lunchtime if it got busy, but I could usually handle it by myself. Today wasn’t too bad, so she stayed in the back with Valerie. Since Lucy opened, she left at one thirty.
I went around the café to wipe down tables and sweep the floor after Lucy left. My thoughts drifted to Blake. When I was with him, I started to question my convictions, principles I thought I would never waver on. Truth be told, I’d never been tested prior to then. I’d always just concentrated on studying and extracurricular activities. Sure, I hung out with people at school and went to parties when Lucy dragged me to them. But our school was small, meaning I’d grown up with the people I spent my days with, which didn’t leave much room for temptation.
What was I doing now? None of my thoughts were making any sense. I had always vowed I’d save myself completely for my mate. I had never even had a real crush on anyone before, knowing we were all promised a mate by the Moon Goddess. It just seemed a waste of time to become attached to someone only to then break up with them once I found my mate. It also wasn’t worth fighting with my parents for something that was so futile.
But now I was wavering. Something was changing inside me. As much as I pretended that I didn’t care if Blake ever texted me again, I began to hope he would. I hated to admit to myself how much he’d gotten to me. When several days went by without hearing from him, all my insecurities began to come forward. Did he ever think about me? I thought about him way more than I could even admit to myself. I hated the idea of being more into him than he was into me, especially since I hadn’t even wanted to start thisthingbetween us in the first place. My life was great before he came along—simple. As long as I did everything I was supposed to, everything would fall into place. But Blake was complicating things.
After I finished my shift, I went outside where my grandparents had come to pick me up to bring me home. I jumped into their car and greeted them both as my grandfather began driving toward where we lived. They lived down the street from us and often picked me up from work, then stayed for dinner.
My grandma said from the passenger seat, “How was work today, Jazzy?”
“It was good. Not too busy.”
“Very good,” she replied.
“So, has your mate come into the café yet?” my grandfather asked. Since I turned eighteen, he was constantly asking if I’d met my mate yet.
“Not yet.”
“I hope you’ve been saving yourself, Jasmine! Male werewolves don’t like an impure woman,” my grandfather exclaimed, catching me off guard.
My grandma interjected before I could say anything, “Of course our Jasmine has been saving herself! You think she’s some sort of floozy?”
“You just never know these days! Back in our day, women all behaved properly. But times are changing!” my grandfather replied.
“And you think our little Jasmine is out there being improper? She’s a good girl. We raised her well. She knows to wait for the Moon Goddess’s gift.”
“I don’t think she’s being improper. I’m just making sure she knows to be chaste in case it hasn’t been clear. I don’t want her mate to reject her because she’s not pure.”
“Of course our little Jazzy’s chaste! She’s a very good girl and her mate will be lucky to have her.”
I couldn’t believe that my grandparents were arguing about my sex life, or lack thereof. I felt so gross about their argument. I was also disgusted by the idea that someone would reject their mate for being “impure” as if they were some damaged goods. Why would I want to be with someone who felt that way about women—that their primary value was their virginity? While I’d always wanted to save myself because I thought it would be special to lose my virginity to my mate, I started to question my logic. There was more to me than whether or not my hymen was intact.
Chapter 10
Blake