“I didn’t catch your name,” I grit out with a saccharine-sweet smile. Anyone paying attention would note the forced smile, so forced I’m afraid it’ll hurt in the morning.
“Beau. Now, Sadie, why don’t you and I go dance.”
Turning in my chair so I’m facing Beau, my movement forces his hand to fall from my shoulder and onto the chair. He’s essentially boxed me in this spot, but I don’t feel intimidated, it only fuels me.
“Now, why would we do that, Beau?”
“Why wouldn’t we? I bet you’d fit perfectly pressed against me.”
“That’s the thing, Beau, I don’t think that’s true.” Taking a drink from my water, I peer up at Beau through my lashes. Some would see this as a flirtatious mood, but for me it’s the moment I assess how far I must go with this asshole before he walks away.
“I know you’d fit perfectly,” he says, leaning forward so his lips are near my ear. “I also think you’d fit perfectly under me while I fuck you.”
And there we have it. Setting my glass on the bar, I pause for a three count, allowing myself to not react too quickly. My right hand reaches around to Beau’s waist and I feel him tense and then relax almost instantly. As he relaxes, I grab a piece of his skin in a pinch and twist.
“Beau, didn’t your mama teach you any manners? You never walk up to a lady and offer to fuck her. Now, I would suggest you walk away and don’t look back if you’d like to keep your balls. I’m about two seconds from cutting them off.” No longer relaxed, the tension radiates off Beau. His hand grips the chair and as I look up at him hovered over me, his nostrils flare. Point made.
Releasing the skin from my fingers, Beau instantly stands up and takes a step back. Not another word is uttered as he walks back to his friends, waving his hands. Likely telling them I had a boyfriend or something, surely not that I just threatened to relieve him of his manhood.
“Now, Ashton, we talked about you threatening the patrons,” Shelly says from behind me, laughing.
“Awe, shucks, Shel. I mean, I could have taken him up on his offer of a good fucking, but that seemed a little fast in our relationship.”
Laughing along with me, Shelly steps behind the bar to refill my water. Grabbing my beer, I take a few sips before setting it back down.
“How are things going, Ash?”
“Good. I think I’m going to give up on the notion of buying a home and just move out of my parents’ house. After being out of the house the last few months, I am struggling being there.”
“Yeah well, considering how hot your last roommate was, I imagine it’s an adjustment,” she teases. Shelly has made it quite clear she thinks I screwed up with Jameson. While I’ve held my ground that continuing anything with him would lead to heartbreak, she continues to insist I was wrong and how fantastic things could be. I, in turn, continue to remind her that I’m rarely wrong. That’s not true, but I like to tease her anyway.
“Can we not do this tonight? I wore a dress, for shit’s sake. Even Beau’s offer didn’t piss me off. Let me just have a good night, please.”
“I’m sorry. I just want you happy. I’m done harping. So, what song are you treating us to this evening?”
“Why, some Miranda, of course,” I say, hopping off the barstool and making a beeline for Kent at his DJ set up. Writing down a few songs for the night, I tell him to call me up whenever. Instead, he tells me to stay because I’ll be up next. I stand off to the side of his spot while I wait. Looking to the bar, I see Mel and Shelly talking. Her arms are waving and he’s shaking his head. I hope they aren’t arguing.
Once my name is called, I take the stage and take my usual deep breath as the first beats of “Little Red Wagon” begin. I love this song; it’s sassy and has a great beat. I was listening to it the other day while I was getting ready for work and knew that the next time I was here I was going to sing it. I like to choose songs that aren’t the same twenty everyone else sings. I think the crowd likes my choice, because a few of the couples are dancing to the side and a group of ladies are swaying to the beat in their seats while they sing along to each other.
Looking to the large group of guys, I see Beau looking my way and offer him a smile, which he returns while holding his glass up in a toasting fashion. Thankfully, he seems to be over our conversation and isn’t holding a grudge. Once the song ends, I dip into a little curtsy and return to my seat. Mel returns my beer to the spot in front of me. Whenever I’m up on stage, Mel takes my drinks away to make sure nobody messes with them. He runs a tight ship here, but you can never be too safe.
Sitting through a few songs by others, I excuse myself and go to the restroom. I can see Shelly speaking to someone off to the side. Her demeanor tells me it’s someone she knows and not a regular customer. She catches my eye and her smile falls just a bit, but she recovers quickly. That’s weird.
Once I finish in the restroom, I take my seat again and ask Mel if my name was called while I was gone.
“Nope, you’re good. Umm, so you know I love ya like a little sister, right, Ash?”
“Yeah, what’s going on? You have a weird look on your face.”
“It’s just that Shelly is my wife and even when I don’t agree with her way of doing things I know she only has the best of intentions. So, don’t be too pissed, okay?”
I don’t have an opportunity to respond when I hear the announcement from the DJ. “Pardon me, y’all, but it seems we have a new duet tonight. Please welcome to the stage, eh, uh, Manwhore and Sunshine.” I must have misheard him because there is no way the words he just uttered are real. Looking up at Mel, I turn my head questioningly.
“What did he just say?”
“I, uh, he just said the next song is a duet performed by Manwhore and Sunshine. Don’t kill her!” Mel begs as I quickly turn in my seat to face the stage. Standing under the bright lights is Jameson, holding a microphone and looking my way. Before I realize what’s happening, I’m being pulled from my seat and dragged to the stage. Looking to my left, wide-eyed, I see a smiling and nervous Shelly. She says nothing as she pushes me toward the stage stairs and shoves a microphone in my hand. Stumbling up the stairs, I realize the entire room is quiet, waiting to see who the two people with the most unfortunate names are.
Dread and fear begin to take over my body. My heart is racing, my palms begin to sweat. I can feel my throat tightening. He’s here. There’s a room full of people staring at us. He’s staring at me.
Why would he do this to me? Tears begin welling as Jameson takes my hand, my gaze falling to our joined hands. As the song begins to play, I try to control my breathing, looking up to Jameson when he tugs my hand slightly.
“Trust me.”
I do trust him. He’s been honest with me about his feelings and what he wants. This has all been my choice. My way of protecting myself from what I am afraid of. Giving him my heart is a huge risk. Suddenly, my fear is surpassed by anger.
Recognizing the song as a favorite of my mom’s when I was growing up, I don’t have an opportunity to contemplate what this means, nor do I have an opportunity to kill Jameson before the lyrics start. Instinctively, I begin singing along with him. The irony of the song is not lost on me. “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” is the essence of where we are in our relationship.
Singing is giving far more credit to what I’m doing. Speaking to Jameson through lyrics is more accurate. Angrily speaking the lyrics until it’s my turn to declare I gave him my heart; that set of lyrics I sing with passion, allowing myself to let go.
I do love this song. And I did give him my heart. Dammit.
As the song fades, I stomp down the steps and thrust the microphone in Kent’s hands. Walking to the bar, I grab my phone and keys without a word to Mel or Shelly, who are standing there. I can hear Jameson calling my name as I open the front door and walk out into the night.
I could tell the minute she stumbled on the stage that this was going to be an uphill battle. I know it’s worth it. She’s wo
rth it. I’ve been planning this night for weeks. Grand gestures are what a woman like Ashton Sullivan deserves. She needs to accept how amazing she is. I realized over the past few weeks that everyone in her life knows this about her, except her. I’m not exactly sure when she became this version of herself. Growing up she was always the most confident and outgoing person I knew. Her friendship with Piper never made sense to me because Piper was always quiet and shy while Ashton was outgoing and popular.
Ashton is still outgoing and popular, but somewhere along the way she just stopped pushing through walls and built one around herself instead. The strongest and biggest wall of them all is around her heart. I think I managed to chip away at a bit of it the few months we lived together. She worked her way into mine and I have to believe that’s reciprocated. The way she sang those lyrics to me tonight, I know the feelings are there, I just need to get her to see them.
Mel warned me off this plan when I approached him and Shelly last week. I’ve done everything else I set out to do; new truck, talk with Ben, a five-year business plan, promoting Owen to foreman, and working with Minnie to implement a modern and streamlined system to keep me from having to be in the office as much. Each time I finished something on my list, I knew this was the way to handle things for Ashton. She has such amazing talent and I want to be there if she decides to finally pursue her singing. Even if she doesn’t, the time I was wasting half-assing my business would be better spent with her, planning a future.
I see her standing in the middle of the parking lot, looking in all directions. If I know Ashton, and I do, she’s looking for my truck; my old truck. Her pause allows me time to catch up to her without too much effort.
“I got a new truck,” I say. She spins on her heel, and I’m not surprised to see rage seething out of her.
“You have some fucking nerve coming here, Jameson. I don’t know who you think you are, but in case you didn’t realize it, you’re a stalker!” Shouting the last part, Ashton turns to walk toward her car. I grab her elbow to stop her, but she yanks her arm from grasp and keeps walking.
“I love you!”
Stopping in her tracks, she turns toward me, the shock of my words obvious.
“That’s not how I planned to say it. I just didn’t know what else to say for you to stop.”
“How about stop? Why would you say that to me, Jameson? That’s cruel and you’re a lot of things, but you’ve never been blatantly cruel to me,” she says as tears begin to fall from her eyes. Stepping toward her, I wipe away the tears with my thumbs.
“Ashton, it’s not cruelty. It’s the truth. Fuck, I had this plan. A grand gesture, romance, words, all of it. I’m thinking I kind of suck at this. Will you give me fifteen minutes? At least let me try to do what I planned?”
Instead of responding, she allows me to take her hand and walk her toward my new truck, which I parked in the distance away from the lights. Letting go of her hand, I drop the tailgate and grab the blanket I have folded, shaking it open and laying it so it’s partially hanging off the end of the tailgate.
“Let me help you up. It’s not as tall as the old truck but it’s still bigger than you.”
Allowing me to grab her by the waist and lift her to the back of the tailgate, Ashton looks at me with a tilted head, as if she’s trying to assess me. “Why do you have a new truck, Jameson?”
Stepping away, I lift myself up to the tailgate and sit next to her, taking her hand in mine. Lacing our fingers, a sniffle escapes Ashton and instigates a deep sigh from me. As I toss my head up and confirm the stars are still out, at least something is going as planned, I turn slightly, our legs brushing. A small gasp comes from her mouth, causing me to smile.
“First, don’t be pissed at Mel and Shelly. Mel has tried to talk me out of this all week. Shelly was hesitant, but I think she let the romantic part of her heart take over and she was a lot of help tonight. For the record, I wanted to kill that motherfucker that put his hands on you earlier.”
“I handled it,” she whispers.
“Yeah, I saw. You do that, ya know? Handle everything. You’re so strong, Ashton. And, so damn independent. You never back down from a confrontation and that scares the shit out of me.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because what if that guy hadn’t taken no for an answer? What if he had been the one to follow you out of there tonight?”
“I may not back down but I’m not an idiot, Jameson. Aren’t you a little off track here?”
“You’re right, sorry. Anyway, so I uh, yeah so I kind of screwed up my plan with that declaration back there. Give me a sec to get my bearings.”
I look over at Ashton and she’s no longer crying. The tear stains are prevalent on her cheeks, but instead of sadness or anger in her eyes, I see apprehension and interest. Fuck, I love this girl. I wish I didn’t have to use words right now. I just want to kiss her and show her how important she is to me. How every single moment we shared over the last few months has reminded me of what I’ve felt for her all these years.
The moonlight provides enough light for me to see her profile and watch as she looks off in the distance, never making eye contact with me. If there were more light and she was looking at me, I know I’d see that her eyes are teetering on darkening to brown, the green only highlighting them. Her full bottom lip is darker than usual and I know that’s because she’s been biting it nervously. The scent of jasmine and citrus is light, but it’s as if my senses can seek it out automatically; her scent.
“I shouldn’t have let you end things with us. I didn’t fight for you and I’m sorry. I foolishly thought we could keep what was happening between us casual and light. I was wrong. There has never been anything casual or light about what we have. Not four years ago, and not now. Ashton, I’ve spent the last four years trying to get you out of my system and failed. These last few months, something shifted, and the thought of not having you in my life, in my heart, it kills me.”
Turning her attention to me, she continues to remain silent, forcing me to speak. “Say something, please.”
“I’m listening.”
“Somewhere along the way, I fell in love with you. No, that’s not true. I fell a long time ago but I ignored it.”
“How can you say that? You’ve been sleeping your way through Lexington for years and you expect me to believe you’ve had these feelings you think you have for years?”
“Babe, I have had them. I won’t make excuses for the last few years and the fact that we’ve both dated and had lives. But, think about who I dated, the type of women. Ashton, they are all great girls and some are friends now, but none of them were you. None of them were so tiny I could pick them up and carry them across hot coals. I’d do that for you, ya know? Anyway, none of them had your looks, your sass, your talent, your kindness, or your heart. I was never looking for the one with them. I had already found her, I just didn’t think she wanted me.”
“Why do you think I said all those awful things to you, Jameson? Because I didn’t care? No, because every single time I had to see you with one of those girls, I wanted to die. It killed me. You paraded them around like a prize and each time I would go home and break.”
“Why did we not have this conversation before? God, we’re stubborn assholes. Both of us. Ashton, tell me it’s not too late. I swear I will do anything for another chance.”
“I don’t know how we do that. What, we just say ‘oh well, we have good sex so yay us, let’s be together!’? Come on, Jameson. I’ve realized something these last few months, too. I need more. No, I want more. Watching my brother and Piper made me realize how much I want someone to love me like that. I want someone to choose me. You just aren’t that guy, you never have been.”
“That’s what I’m saying. I want that, too. God, Ashton,” I sigh, hopping down from the truck to stand in front of her. My hands rest on either side of her legs, my thumbs rubbing circles on her thighs.
“Being with you has been so easy, so natural. Watch
ing you with Hope and how you were with my family when Julia was in the hospital, I choose you. I do. I’d put a ring on your finger right now and buy us two tickets to Vegas if I didn’t think both you and your mom would kill me. I’m all in. I’ve made changes these last few weeks. I’ve got the business on the right track; you were right about Minnie, she’s been a life saver. I dumped the old truck, and somehow, I managed to call in a favor and get a sky full of stars. Sorry I couldn’t do anything about the crickets or frogs, but I would have.”
The edges of her lips twitch. I know she remembers her list and thinks I’m ridiculous for pointing it out. I may pay for that later.
“But, baby, you haven’t said it back.”
“Really?”
“Which part?”
“All of it. Jameson, I’m scared. I’m not as strong as you seem to think I am. I pretend and put up a good front but at the end of the day, I’m fragile. You could break me into a thousand pieces and I’ll never recover. I’m not sure I can take that risk.”
Leaning closer to her, forcing her legs apart to make room, I look her in the eyes, noting the fear in them as her eyes widen in response to my gaze. My strong and independent girl looks so uncertain.
“Baby, look at me when I say this. Don’t look away, look at me.” As she does, I wrap my hands around her hips so I’m as close as I can be and tug her forward a little so there’s no distance between us.
“You’re it for me, Ashton Marie Sullivan. I love you more than I have ever thought was possible. Your spirit and your heart are bigger than any person I’ve ever known. Sure, you drive me absolutely nuts with your need to wear very short shorts, something you’re going to have to stop doing in public unless you want me to kick every guy’s ass you encounter, and the fact that you don’t know how damn talented and amazing you are frustrates me. But, you are the only person in this world I want to build a life with. I love you. Please trust me.”
Tequila & Tailgates (A Country Road Novel - Book 2) Page 23