Bound to Burn

14. Short for Jolene

14

SHORT FOR JOLENE

CASH

Some Kind of Wonderful by Grand Funk Railroad

Grand Funk Railroad plays in the background and I chuckle. Sasha knows how to create an eclectic playlist, and a lot of the songs are from the albums I gave her. I look behind me through the barn doors to the patio where I can see people dancing. “I told you they would blow your mind.”

“By the looks of it, everyone else is enjoying the music too.” Sasha turns off the light and pulls the heavy barn door shut behind us.

“Shouldn’t you be enjoying the party?” she asks.

“I could say the same about you,” I counter.

“That is true.”

I admire her yellow and white sundress. The top is fitted with wide straps, but flares out at her waist and moves when she walks. I never knew how much I liked cowboy boots, but only because they are on her.

“I didn’t think places like this existed.” I look at the pasture, now darkened by the star-littered sky. We don’t have skies like this in the city, and it’s odd to think that this place is only a twenty minute drive away, on a good day. It’s quiet and peaceful - aside from the music and chatter.

We walk down the dark dirt path and follow the lights and the music back to the patio. By this time of night, the drinks are flowing, and the makeshift dance floor is packed with people having a good time, and something shifts in me. There used to be a time when I enjoyed life, the thrill of the unknown, and I didn’t worry so much. Sasha makes me crave the kind of freedom only someone her age has.

Sasha laughs as I grab her hand and pull her into the middle of the dance floor. I hold onto her waist as we dance to Some Kind of Wonderful. She looks shocked when she figures out I can actually dance, so I spin her around and then bring her back to me, eliciting a musical laugh that I can’t seem to get enough of.

Her body moves in sync with mine, and it’s effortless. It’s her dress, her gorgeous smile, and her laugh that I never knew I was missing.

When I move, you move.

I slow her down enough so she can hear when I say, “You have managed to surprise the s**t out of me.”

She scrunches up her nose as her blonde hair tumbles around her shoulders while we continue to move around the dance floor. “How so?” she asks, out of breath.

“For one, when you said you lived in the Palisades, I wasn’t expecting this,” I motion around to the modest party, “barbecued hot dogs and potato chips, Randy Travis and Grand Funk Railroad.” I shake my head feeling like an asshole for having preconceived notions just because of her zip code.

“Grandpa John likes hot dogs and Randy Travis,” she says seriously, which just makes me laugh more. “And now he’s a fan of Grand Funk Railroad.” She looks at me with a haughty smile.

I can’t help but bark out a laugh. “Can’t argue with that.”

“It’s really nice to hear you laugh,” she says, and her words roll over my skin like a thoughtful breeze, seeping into my pores and burrowing deep.

“You don’t think I laugh enough?”

“Not like this,” she says.

The song transitions into Wild Horses, slowing down our rhythm. “I love this song,” she sighs. It’s more than just the song that has me feeling and doing things that I shouldn’t, but I hold onto her, my knee between her legs and bend her back. Her long blonde hair sweeps across the floor before I bring her back up.

She laughs and shakes her head at me. “Cash Morgan, where did you learn to dance like that?”

Memories of dark hair and hazel eyes that pierce right down into my soul invade my mind. My arms wrapped around her, dancing in the middle of the record store before the weight of the world came crashing down. I didn’t just lose Mia, I lost something else entirely; the potential of what could have been. I buried this part of me so deep that it took a long time to realize I still had it.

Instead of opening myself up, I simply tell her, “I am a man of many talents.”

The look in her eyes and the feel of her body against mine, as if she was made to fit, makes me feel as if I’m drunk… even though I haven’t had anything to drink.

Whether she knows what she’s doing or not, her hand moves from my shoulder down my chest. Her palm burns a hole right through my shirt - straight to my heart. There are so many reasons to stop her, but my head is foggy under her spell.

I place a hand over hers. “Sasha,” I warn, because I’m afraid if she moves another inch it will cause me to lose all self-control.

She scares the s**t out of me, and if I had a taste, I don’t think I would ever be able to stop myself. I’ve worked too hard to erect this wall around me so I don’t feel the kind of loss I’ve suffered in the past. There’s too much about her that will break me.

“I know what you thought the minute I told you where I lived,” she says, ignoring my warning.

“That wasn’t fair of me,” I admit and bring her hand up to my shoulder. This I can tolerate, the closeness of her without feeling as though I’m stepping over a line.

“It wasn’t, but I know the kind of people you’re referring to. The one’s who pay you to find some rare guitar that they want to display in a glass case when they don’t even know the difference between a Fender and a Stratocaster,” she tells me.

“I thought you weren’t musically inclined.” I raise an eyebrow as we move imperceptibly, my hands around her waist, guiding her to the rhythm of the music.

“I work in a record store,” she says sarcastically, “I know stuff.” She rolls her eyes, pursing those f*****g pouty lips of hers that are glistening with lip gloss I want to smear with my thumb… or something else.

“What is the difference between a Fender and a Strat?” I challenge.

She chews on her lip stubbornly and I raise an eyebrow, urging her to explain. “You can’t put me on the spot like that.”

I spin her away from me and then pull her back, the force smashing her body into mine and she giggles.

“You don’t know the answer, do you?” I say close to her ear.

She blinks her brown eyes at me. “That’s not the point.”

“I think that’s exactly the point.” My eyes trace the curve of her lips.

“Maybe you can teach me sometime.” There is so much innuendo in her statement I can feel the heat prickle up my neck. I could teach her a lot of things.

“I think you are going to be the death of me,” I say quietly.

“I’d rather be the one to breathe life into you.”

She stares at me as if she can see all the way inside to the tempo of my heart beating a mile a minute. I lean into her, not realizing I moved until it’s too late, my lips too close to hers to be innocent. My fingers grip her waist tighter as her hands begin to snake further around my neck. I can see why I’m attracted to her, and it isn’t because she’s heart-stoppingly beautiful. It’s her smartass mouth, her incredibly generous heart, and her passion that I’m attracted to. That mouth of hers pulls me in and makes me do stupid things.

“Sasha.” Someone interrupts us and I abruptly let go of her. “I told your grandpa that he doesn’t need all that salt, but he’s complaining that we ran out of chips.”

I can tell right away this is Sasha’s grandma.

“Cash, this is Grandma Jo,” Sasha clears her throat and introduces us.

“Short for Jolene.” She holds her hand out and I take it.

“Like the song?” I ask jokingly.

She leans in and whispers in my ear. “Dolly wrote that song about me, ya know.” She pats my shoulder and Sasha can’t contain the laughter when I look at her for confirmation.

Grandma Jo shrugs innocently. “My hair used to be red once.” She winks, tucking a piece of grey hair behind her ear.

“Cash is my boss at the record store,” Sasha explains. “He gave me a ride home when my Jeep wouldn’t start, and I wrangled him into helping set up for the party.”

I’d forgotten all about her Jeep until now.

“That was so nice of you,” Grandma Jo says sweetly.

I can see so much of Sasha in her.

“I’ll go see if we have some more chips in the pantry,” Sasha says, and as she walks away, she looks at me over her shoulder.

When I turn back to Grandma Jo, her sweet expression has been exchanged for one of concern. “My granddaughter is very special to me,” she says.

No doubt she was witness to our intimate moment. I might have kissed her if we weren’t interrupted, and I’m more grateful to Grandma Jo than she realizes. I nod, acknowledging what she’s covertly trying to convey.

“Thank you for letting me celebrate your anniversary with you.” I nod, letting her know I understand her warning.

She gives me a knowing look as she pats my arm and walks over to a group of people, greeting them. Looking around the patio at all of Sasha’s family and friends, I realize how bad of an idea this is. When summer is over she’ll be gone, and I’ll still be here.

I walk into the house, past the kitchen and into the bathroom. I grip the sink, letting the water run cold before splashing some on my face. What I really need is a cold shower.

What the f**k am I doing? I ask myself, taking a deep breath. I’m playing with fire every time I touch her. When I lift my head to look in the mirror, I see Sasha standing behind me and our eyes lock.

She stands there like the perfect f*****g present in her yellow sundress, like she was made just for me. When she reaches for me, I grab onto her waist, crashing my mouth to hers. My hand grips the back of her head and my fingers sink into her hair, bringing her closer to me. I explore her mouth, parting her lips with my tongue, because I can’t seem to get enough of her.

I lift her up on the sink and stand between her legs. My body reacts to her in ways that I’m not prepared for. Her palms burn a hole through my shirt as they move up and over my shoulders. Every nerve ending in my body feels alive.

Fuck me if she doesn’t taste exactly like she smells.

Peppermints.