He's gorgeous

It was 8:30 to be precise.

The service was starting at 9:00.

"Shit," Jasmine swore under her breath.

She had left the house this morning hoping to get all her work done by 6:00, but today, of all days, things weren’t going as planned. Mom is going to be so mad at me, she thought.

She shifted her makeup box into her other hand—it felt heavier than usual. Or maybe she was just tired.

Her phone kept buzzing with notifications and calls from her bandmates and her mom. The last time she checked, she’d ignored them to avoid being scolded over the phone.

The phone buzzed again. Sighing, she retrieved it from her pocket and saw an unfamiliar number. Tired of the incessant buzzing, she swiped to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Jasmine, it’s Joel,” the caller said.

Jasmine frowned. “I’m sorry, I don’t recall—”

“Oh? I got your number from Katherine,” he clarified.

She groaned internally. Joel—the guy Katie had set her up with. But now was not the time.

“I can’t talk right now, Joel. I’ll call you back,” she said, hanging up before waiting for his response. She slid her phone back into her pocket, only to bump into someone.

Well, something—a tall, hard wall of muscle that didn’t seem in a hurry to move out of her way.

Irritated, she looked up to tell the person off but froze.

Her breath caught as she took in his face. He wasn’t overly handsome in a conventional way—no "cute boy" looks—but he had a strong jawline and intense eyes that seemed to pull her in and leave her speechless.

Fuck, he’s gorgeous.

She realized too late she had said it out loud. His lips curved into a lazy smirk, the type that spoke of familiarity with such reactions.

Angry at herself for going slack-jawed over a stranger, Jasmine snapped out of it.

“You’re in my way,” she said sharply, shaking herself out of the haze.

He stared at her, confused, the smirk replaced by a look of mild surprise.

“Well, excuse me,” she muttered, stepping aside and hurrying off without a backward glance. She had a church service to get to.

---

Khaleed had no idea why he stood there staring at her like she was an artifact in a museum. Sure, he didn’t have staring issues before now.

He had moved back home six months ago at his father’s insistence.

Fresh out of college, he’d gotten a job far from his family drama and his father’s company. He wanted a fresh start, and for a while, he had it. But his father threatened to cut him off from the will.

To be honest, Khaleed had told him to go ahead with it. Until his half-sister, Cassandra, pleaded with him to return home.

He and his father were never close, to begin with, but after his mother’s tragic death in a car accident, they grew even more distant. Khaleed understood at first—his father was grieving. His parents had loved each other deeply, and his mother’s death changed him.

But over time, his father’s grief turned into anger, which he often directed at Khaleed.

Years later, his father remarried. Sophia, Cassandra’s mother, brought warmth into their home, and Cassandra became the only person who genuinely cared about him.

So when Cassandra begged him to come back, he couldn’t say no.

Now here he was, grocery shopping, when he saw her—Jasmine.

She looked young and tiny from afar. But up close, she was all woman.

She was distracted on her phone and on a collision course with him. He could have stepped aside to avoid her but didn’t.

When she looked up at him, he was captivated. She cursed, then called him gorgeous, and his lips curved into a smirk.

She’s not immune to my looks, he mused.

But when her expression turned irritated, she stepped around him and walked away.

That was new.

He turned to watch her retreating figure and groaned internally at how stunning she was.

I hope I see her again.

---

Jasmine rushed home, showered quickly, and headed to church.

She had to sit in the congregation at first—walking up to the front row where her bandmates were after the service started would be too embarrassing.

She planned to join them during the opening prayer, when everyone's heads are bowed and eyes closed. She muttered a quick prayer for forgiveness.

Her mom’s glare burned into her from the far end of the row. Jasmine didn’t need to be close to know her mother was livid.

The ground opening up to swallow me whole sounds great right now, she thought.

She slipped into the front row during the opening prayer. Her bandmates were already annoyed, evidenced by their silence and the heated look from Luke.

“We meet for rehearsals for a reason, Jasmine,” Luke quipped.

She suggested scrapping their rehearsed songs and going with their instincts, but Daniel’s expression screamed skepticism.

“That’s just... chaotic,” he said, almost in disbelief.

Katie crossed her arms, her silence heavy with judgment. Pauline shook her head but said nothing.

“Do any of you have a better idea?” Jasmine asked.

When no one responded, she continued, “Believe in yourselves, in each other, and in what God can do. It’ll be fine. I promise.”

Finally, they agreed.

When it was their turn, Jasmine took a deep breath, stepping forward.

“Tonight, we just want to sing, to praise, to worship. Please sing along, and don’t forget to dance!” she said with a smile.

The music started, and they sang from their hearts—not to compete, but because they loved to sing. And it was memorable.