Page 4 of Mixed Connection
Lo
Chisme? What is it!
LOL! No Lo.
I ran into Janelle
Lo
OMG! OUR JANELLE!?
Yep, the one and only.
Lo
Make sure you tell her I said hi and I miss her.
I will! I love you, thank you for checking in on me. Get some rest!
Lo
So there is eye candy!
Let me see! *eye looking emoji*
Lol. Bitch I am not snapping a pic, I will call you in the morning.
Lo
FINEEEE!
Feeling lighter than ever, I laugh at my best friend’s antics. Now, I just need to get another drink of liquid courage before I go find Janelle and Jameson on the dance floor. Stuffing my phone back into my clutch and snapping it closed, I shake my head still thinking of Paloma’s crazy that I love so much. A pair of deep-tan boots come into my line of sight and I snap my head up to find Jameson holding our drinks.
“You have a lovely smile Cassidy.” The compliment in his smooth, deep voice causes a blush to spread across my cheeks and I find that his cheeks are now a deeper shade as well.
“Thank you,” I say softly, as he clears his throat before handing me my drink. His fingers brush against mine, sending warmth up my wrist and making the want burn hotter. “And thank you, for the drink. How did you know what I was drinking?” I question him, needing to know.
He twists around, waving at the bartender who holds both thumbs up. “I told Charles over there I needed a drink for a beautiful woman but didn’t know her drink order. I pointed you out and lucky for me, he remembered.” Jokingly, he drops his smile and squints his eyes a bit. “Though, maybe that means I’m not so lucky.” He turns back around, making eye contact with the bartender once again and points a finger gun at him. Charles mockingly clutches his chest and I laugh so hard my face hurts. Jameson has a lightness about him that brightens up every space he’s in.
“You’re pretty smooth for a bulldozer.” I emphasize the sound of the ‘t’ in pretty before asking him, “And what are you having? Wait… let me guess.” His smile looks genuine as he watches me make up my mind. “Whiskey, with maybe…club soda.”
His laugh rumbles his chest, stretching his shirt over the muscles beneath it, a shirt that I would much rather be non-existent.Get your act together girl!
“You’re not far off, it’s called The Godfather. Charles had a nice small batch of scotch whiskey that I wanted to try, it gave me the perfect reason to order my favorite. The amaretto in it makes the flavors lighter than you’d expect.” He nods his head behind him, toward the rest of our class dancing to whatever the DJ is playing. “So about that dance floor over there,” he says, rolling his shoulders. “You ready for my moves?”
I move my head to the side and quickly look in the direction of the dance floor. “Bring it on!”
Jameson and Janelle dance like they’re the stars of the show, where one of them bounces and rocks their shoulders the other is shimmying their hips to the beat of the music. At one point they both worked their way lower to the floor facing one another, their heads bopping back and forth to the beat. Watching the two of them goof off together leaves me questioning whether he was coming on to me when he brought over my drink or if I imagined the tension I felt between the two of us, and honestly, I’m still not sure.
I’m not going to let my confusion stop me from having fun; the dance floor is packed and I can’t believe I haven’t taken more chances at dancing. It is something I deprived myself of for way too long. It allows me to take up too much space, to be seen, watched, and allows my insecurities to be louder than what I know to be true for myself. Being out here, on the dance floor with Jameson and Janelle, seems to chase all those doubts andworries from my mind, giving me the chance to experience peak joy. It’s a feeling I’ll never let go of.
Now we are in the center of the dance floor, sweat glimmers against my skin from the exertion. There is steady warmth from all the people gyrating, surrounding us in their own separate worlds, and I’ve never felt lighter. I lean into our little trio, shouting over the music that I’m going to grab some water. Just as I make it to the edge of the dance floor, “Return of the Mack” by Mark Marrison comes on. Before I get the chance to turn back around, it’s like Jameson is thinking the same thing I am as he grabs my hand, tugging me back to the dance floor.
“You can’t go yet, this is my jam, girl!” Janelle yells over the music as we both join her. Thoroughly in her zone, she throws her head back and sways her hips without a single care.
Someone squeezes past me, waving their hands in the air, pushing me flush against Jameson. Both my palms now rest on his chest, one of his arms is wrapped around my middle. I can feel the searing heat of his hand pressed against my lower back and can do nothing but stare up at him. My chest rises and falls quickly, my heartbeat thumping in my ears muffles the music surrounding us. I can’t be the only one feeling this connection between the two of us. He raises an eyebrow at me, his eyes holding a flirtatious gleam to them before releasing me slowly. I’m definitely not the only one. This could be awkward but it feels so natural, which is throwing me for a loop. My gaze darts to our feet, not wanting to show my uncertainty that’s playing clearly across my face and I try my best to catch my breath.
Jameson slides his finger under my chin, tilting my head back so I’m forced to look at him. The focus this man has as he searches my face leaves me breathless. “Let’s not let J-Dog steal the show.” He smirks and as if on cue, Janelle bumps her hip with mine and Jameson spins me.
