Wanting Mr. Cane

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Wanting Mr. Cane Page 18

by Shanora Williams


  Dad drove us to the same movie theater we always went to when I was a little girl. It was the one that had the pink riding dragon in the lobby, where I used to punch in a quarter and ride the thing for two exciting minutes. Sometimes more than once.

  We ordered a large popcorn with extra butter and a king-sized pack of peanut M&M’s. We were seeing some action movie that had Michael B. Jordan in it. While we did, I realized that I missed these moments—hanging out with my dad one-on-one, cracking jokes on him and letting him do the same to me.

  He always teased me about my hair, saying I most likely got it from him because when it frizzed up, I looked like I had an afro. He could be such an ass. It was no wonder he and Cane got along so well.

  Thinking of Cane instantly brought my mood down. His best friend was all I could think about, and he didn’t even know it. My dad had his issues, yes, but overall he was a great person and didn’t deserve betrayal or secrets.

  After the movie, we went to grab some frozen yogurt. I got the cheesecake flavor and topped mine with gummy bears and chocolate chips. When I sat down, Dad looked at my sweet concoction and scrunched his nose.

  “What?” I laughed, digging right in. “Don’t hate. You’re just jealous that mine has more flavor than yours. Who comes to a place like this and only gets vanilla yogurt? So lame,” I joked.

  “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” His laugh rumbled deep. That one really tickled him. “Won’t be surprised if you start complaining about how much your stomach hurts later.” His eyes widened. “Oh, man. That reminds me. I remember when you were seven, and we went out to a self-serve ice cream parlor for your birthday. I let you get whatever you wanted on it. Girl, you piled it high with everything. Gummy worms, chocolate fudge, cookie crumbles, caramel, more chocolate fudge—everything! Your mom flipped out!”

  I busted out laughing. “Oh—now that you say it, think I remember that!”

  “Yep. But I told your mom it was okay, that it was your birthday, and you could have whatever you wanted.”

  I bobbed my head. “Mm-hmm.”

  “Turns out you weren’t okay. You got home, jumped all over the place because you were pumped with sugar, and then you threw up all over your bed. It was a mess.”

  “Oh, God,” I groaned, wincing.

  “Your mom told me off. You know how she is,” he chuckled after taking a bite. “But it was cool. I told her I had it handled, so I tossed your sheets in the washer, helped you get in the shower, and then took you down to the man cave so we could watch your favorite princess movies.”

  “Really?” I smiled, dropping my gaze.

  “Yep. I remember that day so well because it was the first time you asked me to take care of you. Before that, you would always ask your mom to help you with stuff like that, but when you asked me, it made me proud, you know? I felt like a real dad in that moment. And holding you in my arms as we watched those cheesy, girly movies was the icing on top. Wouldn’t trade that moment for the world.”

  “Wow, Dad.” I was in awe. “That’s so sweet.”

  His smiled lingered as he finished off his yogurt. I saw a sad shadow run over him, and my chest tightened. When he was done, he set his empty cup down and watched me for a moment. “Look, Kandy…I know I’m not the greatest dad sometimes. I suck at expressing myself. I guess because I wasn’t really raised in a home that encouraged that.” He scratched at his neck, where the scar was. “I can do crazy things and can get really out of hand, but none of that changes my love for you, you know? I love you so damn much, and I would do anything for you. Even though you’ve grown up and don’t want to spend as much time with your old man, it doesn’t change anything. I will always see you as my little girl. My baby. You hear me?” He grabbed my earlobe and tugged on it, like he used to do when I was little.

  I smiled and bit back tears. “I know, Dad. And stop lying to yourself. You’re a great father. You’re busy, just like Mom, but that doesn’t make her less of a mother or a bad mom at all. I get it.”

  “I’m never too busy for you. I know that shooting kind of messed things up, and I can’t do as many of the activities I used to, but I’m here. Anytime you want to catch a movie or grab some lunch and dessert, I’m down, you know? Unless you don’t want to be seen in public with this guy?”

  “I mean…you are kind of lame,” I teased, laughing with him.

  “Lame? Could a lame man pull a woman as beautiful as your mother?”

  I giggled. “You always use that as your defense!”

  “Well, hey, it’s true. When I met your mom, there was a line of guys after her. I went to a college party, and she was known as the pretty, smart girl who was working toward being a lawyer. She was also a party-girl. How she kept on top of her grades and did all the drinking she did, I have no clue. But she did it.” He winked. “And somehow, out of all the guys there, she noticed me, and I didn’t even go to that school. It’s obvious I have swag.”

  “Oh my gosh, Dad. Did you really just say swag?” I busted out laughing. “Please do yourself a favor and never say that again.”

  He flashed a wide smile as I continued laughing. I loved seeing Dad like this. Smiling. Happy. Playful. These carefree moments made my heart beat with glee.

  He reached across the table and rubbed the top of my forearm. “Just know I’m always here for you. Doesn’t matter if you’re right upstairs or thousands of miles away. If you ever need anything, I’m here for you, you understand?”

  I nodded.

  “I would kill for you, Kandy, and I mean that. You’re my baby girl, and nobody messes with my girl. Nobody.” He winked and flashed a dimple. I smiled, but couldn’t help the pounding of my heart. It was as if the guilt had snuck its way out of the darkest corners of my body and was streaming through my blood like poison, paralyzing my heart.

  I looked into my father’s adoring eyes and hated myself. How could I do this to him? How could I do this to Cane? I loved Cane, yes, but I loved my father so much more. So why was it so damn hard to let go?

  “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, his eyes serious now. “I didn’t say any of that to make you feel bad. I just want you to know I love you, and I’m always here for you.”

  “I know, Dad. Trust me, I’ll never forget it.” I dropped my hands and twisted my fingers in my lap, blinking back the tears.

  “Good.” He ruffled my hair then knuckled my cheek. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  During the ride, the anxiety coursed through me. It was powerful. I felt awful, and, honestly, sick to my stomach. I wished in that moment I was still the innocent the seven-year-old girl with the weak stomach. I wished I could erase the memories I had with Cane. I wished that he really was nothing more to me than my dad’s friend.

  Why did I have to want him so badly? Why did he have to want me just as much? Why was all of this so fucking complicated? I hadn’t even gone to college yet, but it felt like life had already set me up to fail.

  I couldn’t handle the guilt. It was literally eating me alive, to the point that my stomach truly began to ache. I told Dad I didn’t feel well when we got home, and he left me to rest, but resting didn’t happen.

  Hot tears ran over the bridge of my nose instead. My eyes were tight and raw.

  The guilt was undeniable, painful, and the saddest part? I wasn’t going to stop wanting Cane, despite knowing the guilt and lies could destroy me.

  30

  KANDY

  The day before my parents left for their anniversary, I was surprised with a white 2-door Honda Civic. My first car and I loved everything about it.

  “Oh my God! Seriously!” I squealed. “I love you guys so much!” I squeezed them both around the neck. “Thank you! I knew you weren’t going to let me be eighteen and carless!”

  They both broke into fits of laughter.

  “You better take good care of this, you hear me?” Dad scolded lightly. “No reckless driving, no texting, and definitely no driving drunk.”

  “That’s right,
” Mom agreed.

  “Yes, yes! I promise!” I shouted. They could have told me I had to wash dishes every night for the rest of the summer, and I would have agreed.

  “And it better stay clean!” Dad demanded.

  I nodded way too eagerly, squeezing my hands together, desperate for the keys.

  Mom insisted on taking a hundred pictures of me with Bubby—the name of my car. As soon as Dad handed me the keys, I took it for a spin by going to Frankie’s house, where she took a hundred more pictures of me with my new car.

  The next day my parents left for Paris. I was sad to see them go, but was happy that they’d been together for over twenty years and were able to do something special together.

  I drove them to the airport. Dad cupped the back of my head and gave me a rough kiss on the forehead after shutting the trunk of my car. He could be rough that way—tough love is what he called it.

  “We’ll see you in a week, sweet cheeks.” He gave me another rough kiss before Mom stepped up and gave me a tight hug and kiss on the cheek.

  “See you when we get back, okay? Be good.” She kissed me once more.

  “I’m going to have the whole house scanned for prints when I get back, so don’t even try it with the house parties!” Dad shouted from behind her.

  I laughed as Mom shook her head and narrowed her eyes at him, giving that adorable, loving expression she always gave when she thought he was the hottest goof on earth. Those words exactly, because she said them often when describing him to me.

  To be honest, my parents were adorable as hell. I loved their relationship, and was glad they weren’t another statistic—you know, where there are two busy, working parents with a child or children and they lose their love for each other? Sure, they’d had their ups and downs, but they got through all of it together and let love win. They raised me together, and I think I turned out pretty okay.

  I smiled as they walked off, both of them waving as I got into the car. I rolled the window down and Mom blew a kiss at me, and I returned the gesture. I watched them until I could no longer see them, then I drove back to a quiet home.

  It was roughly nine in the morning, and I was kind of hungry, so I made a bowl of cereal while scrolling through my phone at the counter.

  I cleaned my room next, hung up a few of the shirts Mom had washed for me before she left, and then I went down to Dad’s man cave to watch Netflix.

  During all of it, I tried ignoring the nagging in the back of my head, the dark thoughts, the ones behind the locked door in my mind.

  Eventually, they broke out and left me pacing the house, trying to find any little thing to do to occupy myself.

  Cane came to mind. My Cane. My parents were going to be gone for an entire week. Cane said he would be working in town for a few days and told them he’d keep an eye on me. I’d overheard his phone conversation with Dad.

  He was in the city.

  I was home alone.

  This is perfect, the thoughts whispered.

  I stared at the dark screen of the phone sitting on the cushion beside me. The better thing to do would have been to ignore the whispers and let a movie consume me, or even use the money Mom gave me to take my new car out and go shopping for a new dress or blouse.

  None of that happened. My fingers tingled, and my heart began to whisper too, begging me to pick up the phone and get in touch with him. Just see what he’s doing, my heart whispered. Check in with him. Let him know you’re thinking about him. See if he’s thinking about you, too.

  My heart knew no boundaries. She didn’t care that she wasn’t supposed to want him. And at the end of the day, willpower was not my specialty. I could never deny myself what I wanted, whether it was cake or Cane.

  And here’s the thing: School was going to be starting in two weeks for me. That meant I only had two more weeks to see as much of Cane as I possibly could. Of course, I listened to my heart, because after those two weeks, I wouldn’t see him again for months. I couldn’t bear the thought of that.

  My summer was quickly coming to an end, and there was something I needed more than anything.

  I was sick of the foreplay and sneaking around. Yes, I knew it was wrong to want this so badly, and yes, the guilt trips still killed me, but there was something about Cane that kept me coming back for more. His presence never went unnoticed while he was around, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t deny the way my body reacted, even when I was just thinking about him.

  I tried to stop it, I really did, but it was so hard.

  He’d stopped touching me since we’d left the beach. He hardly even looked at me. I assumed his break-up with Kelly was really bothering him. I hadn’t seen her in weeks, and during dinner it was all Mom could talk about. She really liked Kelly and while she thought she was a good fit for Cane, I silently disagreed.

  I’d continued to use Cane’s pool, but he’d come around less and less. I was sure it was on purpose. His guilt was fierce, too. The only way he could resist was if he wasn’t around me at all.

  I was desperate. Truly, unbelievably desperate, so I did the only thing a girl my age would have done: I sent him a text.

  I told him something that would grab his attention right away—something he wouldn’t ignore, no matter how busy he was.

  Me: Remember when you said you’d give me anything I wanted? I know what I want as my going-away gift.

  I want you to take my virginity.

  That was the message, and after hitting the send button, I felt like a damn fool. My throat went dry, and I dropped my phone like it was on fire.

  “Oh my God,” I gasped. I couldn’t believe I’d actually sent that. It didn’t help that four agonizing hours passed, and I still hadn’t gotten a response. I had popped a bowl of popcorn and went down to Dad’s man cave again to watch movies, in attempt to forget I sent it, but it didn’t work. Every ten-seconds I would glance at my phone, waiting for it to chime.

  Around 10:00 p.m. that night, eight hours later, his name finally popped up on the screen. I immediately pulled my attention away from the movie and snatched up my phone. My heart was racing as I went to my text messages.

  His response:

  Cane: Kandy, you can’t send me stuff like this. Choose something else. Something realistic.

  I replied instantly.

  Cane, please. It’s the only thing I want.

  It will be the last thing I ever ask for, I swear.

  He responded:

  No.

  I was beyond frustrated, but I was also Kandy Jennings, and I wasn’t a quitter. I had fourteen whole days to convince him. I could do it.

  The next day, I packed my pool bag and jumped in my car, making my way to Cane’s house. I hoped he would be there, but of course he wasn’t. I entered an empty house, poured myself a cup of lemonade, and went out to the deck to sunbathe. I believe an hour passed before I heard voices bouncing around inside.

  I lowered my sunglasses and saw someone pass by the windows. It was Cane, with his phone to his ear. The thrill sent my heart into overdrive; I could hear the beat of it in my eardrums.

  Pushing out of my chair, I walked to the door, drawing it open and stepping onto the cool marble. I heard him in the kitchen and went there, but was surprised to see he wasn’t the only person around.

  Cane looked my way, as well as a tall man with a blue polo and khaki pants. He had a bag of tools strapped around him, and was saying something about lights before he caught sight of me through the corner of his eye and stopped.

  They both stared at me, and I took a slight step back. I was only in my bathing suit—a sky-blue one that made my boobs extra perky. I thought it would only be Cane around. Damn, this was embarrassing.

  “Kandy?” Cane cleared his throat and moved around the man. “I didn’t know you’d be stopping by today.”

  “Uh, yeah. I thought I’d make use of the pool today since I don’t have much else happening right now.”

  Cane nodded, and then looked at the man.
That’s when I realized he was ogling me—literally staring at me like a dog would stare at a piece of meat.

  My face heated up, and I took another step back. “We can catch up later,” I murmured.

  Cane was still staring at the man. I turned and walked away, but heard Cane say, “Stop fucking staring at her,” when I was halfway down the hallway.

  “You date her?” the man asked.

  “She’s my friend’s daughter,” he snapped. “How much are you gonna run me? I need the light fixed by this weekend.”

  I didn’t hear much after that.

  I took a quick swim and felt eyes on me again about ten minutes later. Cane was standing on the deck with his arms folded, aviator sunglasses covering his eyes, and his brows dipped.

  “What is he fixing?” I asked.

  “The chandelier in my living room.” His forehead creased even more. “Why are you here, Kandy?” He took a step forward and I swam to his end of the pool.

  “I’m swimming, Cane. You said I could use the pool whenever I wanted.”

  He pressed his lips and shook his head.

  I went for the stairs and walked up, going for my towel on the wicker chair. I could feel him watching me the whole time. “Can I use your shower?” I asked.

  He bobbed his head. “You already know you can. Just do me a favor this time and don’t walk around half naked.”

  “Possessive much?” I grabbed my bag and walked past him to get to the door. “It would be better if you joined me.”

  “Go shower,” he snapped, and I turned, fighting a smile as I made my way to the staircase. I went to the guest bathroom and took a hot shower, then brushed my hair into a low ponytail. When I was downstairs again, the man who was working on the chandelier was nowhere to be found. Cane was sitting in front of the desk in his office on the first floor, typing away.

  “Emails?”

  “Yes,” he answered absently.

  I placed my bag beside the recliner and walked to the stool that was beside the desk, taking the seat. I knew I was distracting him. I didn’t care. All I kept thinking about was the time he called me a brat, yet he fed into my spoiled ways constantly. God, I needed to get over myself, but I couldn’t help it around Cane. He made me feel innocent and irresistible at the same time.

 

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