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CHAPTER 8
Cash
“Thank you again, Cash.” Mrs. Benson handed me a whistle. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“No worries.” I put the whistle around my neck and tried to mentally prepare myself to spend the next ninety minutes with prepubescent boys.
When I got the call that Remy Carlson had another slipped disc in his back and they needed me to come in and run youth basketball practice I’d almost said I was too busy. Not because I didn’t want to run practice, Coach Carlson had been my coach all through high school. He was retired now and volunteered his time at the Boys and Girls Club and I’d stepped in on several other occasions when he’d been unable to make practice or games.
I’d almost declined because the art class Cheyenne taught was at the same time as his practice. I knew that because her class was in the multi-purpose room which was right next to the gym and had a large plexiglass window. Which meant I was going to spend the next hour and a half trying not to stare at that window and keep my attention focused on the team. It was not going to be easy.
As I walked down the hallway, a familiar floral and citrus scent drifted through the air. Cheyenne was in the building and had walked this same hall just moments before. I would bet anything on it. I paused for a moment in front of the door to the multi-purpose room and considered poking my head in to say hello.
That’s what I’d done all the other times I’d subbed for Coach Carlson. But that was when we spoke almost every day. Right now, I wasn’t sure where we stood.
It had been a week since I’d seen Cheyenne the morning after the wedding. Usually, she stopped by the bar at least three times a week, but she hadn’t been in once. I’d texted her a few times to see how she was and if she was okay because she hadn’t been in, she’d answered me back in short two-word responses.
I’m fine.
I’m busy.
I didn’t know if she was mad at me for something, or if she’d finally just figured out that I wasn’t the man she thought I was. Either way, I’d been walking around with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that I couldn’t shake.
“Coach Cash is in the house!” Tommy Belfort walked up from behind me and held up his hand and gave me a high five. He was flanked by three other players, Camden Jakes, August Flannigan, and Casey Mason who all did the same.
After the palm-on-palm greetings, Tommy pulled open the door to the gym and asked, “You comin’?”
“Yeah.” It was probably for the best that I didn’t interrupt Cheyenne’s class, especially since she’d made it clear she didn’t want to see me.
As I walked into the gym, I told myself not to look to the right. I did my best to keep my eyes straight ahead but when I caught a glimpse of long blonde hair out of the corner of my eye, I couldn’t help but look over.
Damn. She was a sight for sore eyes.
Today Cheyenne wore a baby blue T-shirt that was the exact color of her eyes. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail, revealing the gentle curve of her neck. And she had on my favorite pair of jeans that she owned. They were worn in all the right places. She was standing with her back to me and my eyes automatically drifted down to the faded denim that covered her ass. She was petite with curves in all right places and she drove me crazy.
Flashes of her pulling her bridesmaid dress up and over her head revealing her white lace panties and bra began filling my mind. I’d seen her in a bikini on more than one occasion and honestly, the underwear she’d had on was no more revealing than that. But there was something more intimate about seeing her in that state of undress in her darkened room that felt more private and erotic. Then when you added in the things that she was saying to me, it was a wet dream come to life.
Except she was wasted at the time.
That was the important thing to remember. She wasn’t sober.
“Coach Cash, I didn’t know you’d be here today.”
I turned and saw Mallory Belfort standing behind me. Mallory and Tommy’s dad divorced a year ago, right around the time Cheyenne came back to town, and she’d made it clear on more than one occasion that she was available and interested.
“I’m just fillin’ in.”
“Lucky me.” She smiled widely revealing straight white teeth and two deep dimples.
I’d always been attracted to Mallory. She was a few years older than me. My freshman year, she was a senior and won the Miss Firefly Island contest and went on to win Miss Georgia Peach. Before she got married and had Tommy she modeled and was in several local commercials.
One of the ads she was in was for a water park and she wore a red bikini in it. That commercial filled my spank bank for most of my teen years. If someone would’ve told my thirteen-year-old self that she would be pursuing me fifteen years in the future and I wouldn’t be the slightest bit interested, I would have told them they were full of shit.
But that’s exactly what was happening and there was one reason and one reason only. The blonde who was right on the other side of the plexiglass. Since she came back to Firefly, I’d had no interest in other women. The desire just wasn’t there. For anyone besides Cheyenne that is. For her, the desire was burning white-hot.
I blew the whistle calling practice to begin and instructed the boys to warm up. They formed lines and began running three-man weaves and shooting layups.
As much as I tried to keep my focus centered on the court, my eyes kept drifting to Cheyenne.
