Bound to Burn

8. Collectibles

8

COLLECTIBLES

CASH

What I Like About You by The Romantics

“Don’t touch that!” I yell at the kid with sticky fingers as he tries to grab the guitar off the wall. He startles and moves his hands away.

Sasha narrows her eyes at me disapprovingly and I shrug, “What?”

“You could say it a little nicer,” she chastises me as she walks over to the kid and pulls the guitar off the wall for him.

Sasha’s been working here for a little over two weeks now, and even though she still has an attitude, at least I’ve been able to leave the store and get other things done.

I watch as she hands this kid, who is probably five years old, the guitar while his mother watches. He hands his mom the melting ice cream cone. My insides are screaming to run over there with a wet wipe, but at this point, all I can do is turn around and pretend to organize some collectible figurines.

All I have to do is smell peppermint to know Sasha is standing behind me. “You have a problem,” she says.

I turn around holding the David Lee Roth collectible figurine in my hand. “The Gene Simmons figurine can’t be anywhere near the David Lee Roth one.” I explain, holding up the offending package between us.

She tilts her head and looks at me like I’m crazy. “Because they don’t like each other,” I finish.

“I’m talking about that little kid.” She points to the woman and her son who are leaving the store. “He could have been the next Eddie Van Halen, but you scared the s**t out of him so now we’ll never know.”

“I doubt that.” I roll my eyes and set the boxes back on the shelf.

“Wait, they don’t like each other?” she asks as she points to the shelf.

“Obviously not,” I scoff.

“But they’re just dolls.” Sasha gives me an annoyed look.

“Collectible figurines,” I correct, and grab a clean rag from under the counter and walk over to the guitar on the wall.

“I can hear you rolling your eyes,” I say as I wipe it down. “And I can tell you’re mocking me.” I look over my shoulder just as she snaps her mouth shut.

I turn back to the guitar and laugh. As annoying as she is, it’s actually been nice having company in the store. The shelves and counters have never been cleaner, and aside from the collectibles being set up incorrectly, she’s been a great help.

“What do you have against little kids?” she asks.

“Nothing.” I throw the rag onto the counter. “I’m not a monster, I like kids.”

Sasha looks at me incredulously.

“Just not ones with sticky hands,” I say, reaching over her to grab a sucker from the jar Sasha brought in.

She moves it away from me before I can grab one. “See? This is what I’m talking about.”

“I just wanted a sucker,” I pout and narrow my gaze at her.

“You would take a sucker from a kid?” she teases.

“I’m not taking it from a kid, unless I count you.”

She opens her mouth and gasps. “Just for that, you’re not getting one.”

I reach around her, but she pivots, holding the sucker jar like a football. I lean over her shoulder to snatch one, but she moves out of my reach, laughing uncontrollably, and the sound fills the entire record store. It’s something this store has been missing for a really long time. I want a sucker, but she’s being so goddamn stubborn.

She looks for a way out, but I have her caged against the counter. There is nowhere left for her to go. We’re both breathing heavily from laughing, and when her gaze lowers to my mouth, tension fills the air between us, thick and heady, like an early morning fog.

My eyes rest on the thin gold chain rising and falling against her chest. Suddenly, I want more than just the sucker. She’s like a tempting dessert, taunting me with her defiant jaw, those golden-brown eyes, and that f*****g body that I know will feel so goddamn good pinned underneath me. Does she know what she’s doing to me? I’m no saint, but it has been more than a while since I’ve had someone like her in my bed.

I grip the counter tighter, my muscles tensing like the head of a drum, and I am acutely aware of how close my body is to hers. The pulse in her neck ticks in tune with my own. When she bites her lip, I think I might just goddamn die.

I’m about to do something stupid when my phone vibrates in my back pocket, saving me, and I finally exhale. I let go of the counter and reach inside the jar, plucking a sucker out before turning and walking down the hallway to take the call.

Before I can even say hello, Jack’s voice booms through the speaker, “I need your help.”

I take a deep breath, lean against my desk and try to get my bearings. I swipe a palm down my face. For once, Jack has perfect timing.

“Where do I need to pick you up? Jail, rehab, or Amber’s?”

“f**k off, this is serious.”

“It’s a reasonable question considering your history.” I hear him groan on the other end because he can’t argue with that.

“I need your help to pick out a ring,” he grumbles.

“I never pegged you for the jewelry wearing kinda guy.” I suppress a smile, even though he can’t see it.

“The ring is not for me,” he bites out.

I can’t help but enjoy listening to him squirm by making him tell me exactly what he wants. He thinks everyone can read his mind when he doesn’t want to actually say it. Lucky for me I know him well enough to know exactly what he’s thinking.

“Oh, who is the ring for then?” I ask innocently, trying to keep my voice down in case Sasha can hear.

Sasha.

Fuck.

Would I have actually kissed her if Jack hadn’t called? The answer to that bothers me.

“You know who the f*****g ring is for, dickweed.” I honestly don’t know how Erin puts up with him, but I guess the same way we all do.

“Does Erin know how immature you are?”

“Are you going to help me out or not?” he asks, clearly annoyed with me.

“Of course.” I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me.

“Wait!” Jack yells before I hang up. “Meet me this afternoon?”

“I can’t just leave the shop at a moment’s notice.”

“Jesus Christ, don’t you have some emo kid to chase away the customers?” Jack asks, annoyed.

“I do.” I pause. “Not an emo kid, but someone else.”

“Who? Was it that chick from the festival? Erin’s friend?”

“I’ll go shopping with you tomorrow,” I avoid answering him.

“Don’t use that word.”

“What word?”

“Shopping. It makes it sound like we’re…” he pauses for a minute, “shopping.” I can hear the distaste in his tone.

“Goodbye, Jack.” I hit the end button and shove the phone in my pocket.

I push off from the desk, place the sucker in my mouth and walk back up front. Sasha is leaning on the counter, her laptop open in front of her. Her a*s is on full display, and I can’t help that my gaze travels down her long, tanned legs.

When she sees me she straightens up, watching as I pull the sucker from my mouth.

She looks at me expectantly. I could tell her all the things that are running through my mind right now… that whenever she looks at me with those big brown eyes, it makes my stomach tighten. Whenever she bites her lip, I want to sink my teeth into it too. Whenever she laughs, especially when I’m the one to make her do it, I feel an ache in my chest.

But the fact is I am too goddamn old to make a fool of myself. Even if she did want me to kiss her, we are not at the same place in life.

Not to mention, she works for me.

“Can you switch days and work this weekend?” I ask her.

She lets out a breath as if she was expecting me to say something else, but she nods in agreement.