You Had Me at Hola(52)

Jasmine waved and got Bethany’s attention again. “Just champagne,” she said in a low voice. “Keep it coming.”





Chapter 24


Ashton returned to Jasmine’s room that evening with the script for episode seven and the best of intentions.

He’d spent two hours that morning sweating it out on the treadmill and with the weights, and then had an hour-long video call with his son that had reset his priorities. Yadiel was worried about the new school year because he’d heard from one of his friends that fourth grade was really hard, and he had a lot of thoughts about the latest Marvel movie. Afterward, Ashton had caught up with his father, who’d shared that Abuelito Gus’s cough hadn’t worsened, but neither had it gone away, and that Abuelita Bibi was experiencing knee pain but had refused to stop cooking at the restaurant.

Still, even with all that to think about, Ashton hadn’t been able to put Jasmine out of his mind.

Bad idea, his brain told him as he knocked on the door. You’re going to end up hurting her.

But he couldn’t stay away.

Jasmine opened the door wearing a bright smile and the yellow floral romper she’d worn during their first rehearsal with Vera. Instantly, his anxiety eased.

“Hi,” she said. “Come on in.”

He followed her inside and was hit with the smell of hot pizza.

“Dinner?” he asked, spotting the box on the dining table. A half-eaten slice sat on a plate next to it. She picked it up and took a bite.

“I spent the day with my family and drank my weight in mimosas,” she explained after she’d chewed. “All I want is pizza right now. Real New York City pizza with a soggy thin crust and too much cheese and oil.”

“When in Rome, I guess.” Ashton took a slice from the box. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“What, pizza?”

“No, your family.”

She sighed dramatically and dropped into one of the chairs. “Not really? Maybe you can tell me about yours instead.”

This was dangerous territory, but he sat and tried to answer without giving away too much. “My family owns a restaurant. My mother passed away ten years ago, but my father and grandparents still work there.”

“They’re in Puerto Rico, right?”

“Yes. I moved them to Miami after Maria, but they wanted to go back.”

She took a fresh slice from the box. “They’re okay with you being an actor?”

“Of course. They’re my family. They’ve always supported my art.”

Jasmine’s eyebrows shot up and she gave him a look like, Are you kidding me? “What do you mean, of course? Don’t take that for granted. I could win an Oscar and it wouldn’t matter to my family.”

Ashton shrugged as he chewed a bite of pizza. “My family has reacted to everything I’ve ever done like it’s an Oscar win.” That was why he wanted one so bad—so he could prove himself to everyone else.

Jasmine’s expression turned wistful as she stared at the crust on her plate. “Must be nice. Mine only care if you’re married and have kids. And yeah, I want those things, but I still have value as a person without them, you know?”

He blinked. She was right. He was lucky in how his parents supported his career. And also . . . she’d just revealed a lot about herself.

His heart ached for her, and he wanted to ask more, to hear the details of her day, of her family, of her childhood, but she flipped open her copy of the script and said blithely, “Episode seven. The penultimate episode. What happens?”

Ashton swallowed the food in his mouth. All right, she clearly didn’t want to talk about her family, but he’d thought they’d at least discuss what they’d done last night on this very table. However, he recognized a subject change when he heard one, so he respected her wishes and answered. “Victor spills his guts on a bunch of talk shows.”

“Oh, lots of feelings,” she teased. “Marquita loves including those moments.”

“From the top?” he asked.

“Sure, why not?” Jasmine kicked back in the chair and crossed her bare feet at the ankles. “Looks like it starts with a montage. I’ll read the parts of the hosts.”

They were halfway through the second scene, which featured a Kelly Ripa–like TV host, when Jasmine tossed a wadded-up paper napkin at him. It landed on his script.

He shot her a quizzical look, and she shook her head at him.

“What’s up?” she asked. “You’re distracted. You keep looking around the room.”

“Oh.” His face warmed. “I keep waiting for your cousins to barge through the door.”

Her teasing expression smoothed and her gaze turned hot. “They don’t know you’re here.”

“No? I thought you told them everything.”

She shook her head slowly, her eyes never leaving his. “Not everything.”

And there it was. An allusion to the previous night.

Suddenly, Ashton couldn’t breathe. His chest tightened, his skin heated, and before he could talk himself out of it, he tossed his script on the floor and reached for her.

They came together, Jasmine all but leaping onto his lap to straddle his legs. He planted his hands on her round ass and squeezed as her mouth crushed down on his.