That Forbidden Love

Chapter 7

Jazmyn

Jazmyn ran through her lines once more on the guitar, displeased and irritated with her tonal quality. It was almost strange because she’d sang this particular song in the same style countless times, yet this time it sounded just off.

Sighing, she pushed a handful of her wandering twist braids away from her face, tucking them back into the orange polka-dotted bonnet Madeline had gifted her last Christmas and tried the run again.

She hadn’t even scaled the ascension on the first verse when a wrongly calculated strum pattern fell flat and ruined everything. For the third time that afternoon.

“I think we should take a break,” Isaac said, hoisting his electric guitar, Sally, off his body and replacing it on a stand nearby. “We can regroup after lunch. I’m starving.”

“You okay, kiddo?” Jean-Pierre stood up from behind the drums and strode towards her. His kind gray eyes were concerned as they swept over her face. “You’ve been kinda out of it since rehearsals began yesterday. Are you coming down with something?”

Jazmyn smiled at him and shook her head. I’m fine, stop being such a worrywart. I think I just need a break like Isaac said.”

“Are you sure? We can cancel our performance tomorrow and return home if you want.”

“That is absurd.” She gave him a look etched in disbelief and took off her guitar. ” We can’t possibly come all the way to Sweden for a career-defining show and just cancel because I’m in a mood. I’ll be fine like I said. Besides, Madeline would kill us. You know how hard she worked to get us a slot here.”

Jean-Pierre shrugged, those intuitive eyes checking out for possible contradictions to her answer. She loved and hated just how in tune he was with her emotions sometimes.

“I’m just saying. You never cancel a show even though you’re falling on your face from exhaustion. This mood as you say has been going on for two days now and gives enough room for one to be worried. Should I be worried?”

“Don’t stress it, man. It’s PMS, you know? That thing that turns every sweet, agreeable woman you know to a semi-demon,” Isaac came to stand beside them, grinning as he tugged playfully on her braids.

“You’re such a di*khead, Isaac.” Jazmyn swatted at his hand, laughing as she felt her mood lightening up. And turning to Jean-Pierre, she encircled his waist with her hands and looked up to meet his warm gaze.

“I’m fine, I promise. Just some distracting thoughts a little bit of day drinking will solve.”

He smiled affectionately and tweaked her nose like he always did. “Alright then. I’ll take your word for it.”

“Hey, I found this quaint pub just by the corner last night. Let’s go check it out,” Isaac said, already climbing down the massive stage erected for the Swedish indie music festival the next day.

It was just like Isaac to go exploring the moment he arrived in a country he’d never been before. Jazmyn stood on tiptoe and kissed Jean-Pierre’s cheek before letting go and grabbing her waist bag from the side of the piano to join Isaac.

“You guys go along. I am too tuckered out to do any drinking right now,” Jean-Pierre shooed them off. ” Don’t forget to be back soon. Our allocated rehearsal time would be over in two hours.”

“Okay, big Daddy,” she and Isaac chorused in unison, laughing as they headed out through the side door of the large auditorium.

Outside was slightly sunny with a great deal of chill in the air. Like the rest of the band, this was her first time in Northern Europe.

Jazmyn hadn’t known what to expect but it wasn’t this degree of cold weather especially in the heart of summer. Tightening the woolly jacket that she’d picked up last minute in New Orleans around her body, she followed a chatty Isaac down the sidewalk to a small pub just around the bend.

They’d barely settled on the intricately carved barstools in the dimly lit establishment several blocks from the show venue when he bent to whisper into her ears. “See those blondes over there. Do you think they speak English?”

Jazmyn followed his direction to see two curvaceous blondes sitting in a booth a few steps away from them. The taller, bustier one glanced their way and gave Isaac a come-hither smile before returning to the conversation with her partner.

“You can only find out. Just don’t get hit with a harassment suit. We have a show to perform tomorrow and Jean-Pierre would never let us leave his sight ever again if anything goes wrong.”

Isaac’s grin was cocky and mischievous. “Well, I’d trust my charm on this one.” And he was off the stool and heading towards the women.

Jazmyn smiled and shook her head, turning back to the handsome bartender who looked like a cast straight out of Vikings with his long dishwater blonde hair and vivid blue eyes; eyes that suddenly reminded her of someone she’d have preferred to forget.

“A tall shot of whisky on the rocks, please,” she told him, feeling the smile slip away from her face as the thoughts of Zack returned in full blast.

He nodded curtly and turned away, reappearing in less than a minute with her drink. “Here, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” Jazmyn took the shot and downed it in a second’s haste, wincing as it burnt down her throat, spreading heat through her body and hopefully into her thoughts as well.

Releasing pent up breath that felt like it’d been on hold for days now, Jazmyn knew she needed to stop thinking about Zack but it was almost impossible. As much as she tried to fight it, memories of the time they’d shared together a week ago found ways to slip back into her head, and all previous efforts to forget soon became meaningless.

He hadn’t called as he’d promised. After the picture-perfect dinner date, he’d taken her on, the wonderful conversation and wild, chaotic intimacy they’d shared throughout that evening. Jazmyn had hoped, expected and waited for him to call but he hadn’t.

It almost felt like he’d forgotten or erased her from his memory the moment he’d walked out of her apartment that evening.

Almost like he’d pressed ‘Crtl- Delete’ and went on his jolly way.

As much as she’d shrugged it off and pretended it didn’t matter, it did and she couldn’t help the hurt that followed. It was exactly the culprit behind her snappy, mercurial mood in the last few days, even if it irked her to give him such credits.

She’d felt different with him. Happier. Starry-eyed and infatuated with the power and presence he commanded.

Everything about him had excited her. From his penetratingly deep blue eyes and charming smile to learning about the significantly sweet things, he did like volunteering at soup kitchens and chairing on several health fundraisers around the Midwestern states.

Jazmyn had been genuinely happy to learn he was different from the cynical workaholic that she’d fashioned him out to be in her head.

It was hard to know exactly when it had dawned on her that Zack hadn’t planned to reach out. Perhaps between moments of subconsciously expecting every phone call to be his, and daydreaming about their evening together.