Her sad little frown tugs at my heart in a huge way. Makes it actually ache.
Oh my gosh, that’s a sign of something, right?
Pretty sure it is.
Oh man.
I’m a goner.
CHAPTER 23
***JULIE***
JULIE
After Cade sweetly offered to beat up poor sweet Hank for me Cade stared at me like—like—well, I don’t know what like. But it was nice and made me feel like he cared, which was nice too. But Cade confuses me, always. I mean, I promise on a stack of Bibles he only flirts with me because he knows that it turns me into a mess—since, you know, he knows how my subconscious feels about him, and also because he knows how it stirs up poor Ashton. That’s the only reason tough guy Cade Cole flirts with me. The only reason. AND it’s also the only reason he offered to take that part in the play—because he knows his kissing me will piss off poor Ashton to no end.
So that stuff is not very nice, right? I have to keep reminding myself of that, since Cade is very sneaky with my heart. He knows how to play it big time. Face it: he’s a total PLAYER. A master at the game of messing with girls’ hearts.
Yet his staring eyes make me forget all that stuff as he gazes at me like—like—like he cares about me. A lot. So, I purposefully keep my eyes off him, but then where can I look? Seeing Hank’s car in my driveway makes me feel like crying. I know it’s dumb. I know that. But he had actually made my mom happy when there was absolutely no one else left in the world that could. I mean, it’s not like we knew Hank long, not at all. Yet, he had felt like family. It crushed mom when he dumped her. And crushed me too. Mostly for mom’s sake. It makes me kind of hate dear sweet Hank. I don’t want to see him.
“I’ll take you someplace that will cheer you up,” Cade says suddenly.
My heart slams against my chest as he starts backing out of my driveway. What the—??
I gasp in a panic, “Where are we going?”
Nervous shivers shoot through me and I’m having trouble breathing. I mean, come on, this is Cade Cole. Cade Cole! Cade’s idea of “cheering up a girl” is probably all kinds of wrong and not something I’m allowed to do.
“Cade! Where are we going?”
His eyes twinkle, but he just smiles. “Relax. You’ll love it.”
Uh, how do you know? I don’t actually ask him this … but I want to. The dude doesn’t know me—at all. But suddenly he’s acting like he does. This is weird.
(… but awesome.)
I mean, I know I shouldn’t feel like it’s awesome. I know that.
But nonetheless, it seems kind of awesome and now it’s sending little thrilling shivers through me instead of anxiety and dread. I wonder where he thinks I’d like to go? He’s probably dead wrong. Of course. Duh. A guy like him cannot have a clue about me, not whatsoever. Still, it’s kind of sweet and exciting that he’s at least trying. It suddenly has me sort of breathless with anticipation wondering where he will take me. Then—
To my astonishment, he pulls into this really, really expensive restaurant that Ashton takes me to on special occasions.
“Here we go,” Cade murmurs with a satisfied smile.
I blink. “I do love this place, but—”
“I know you do,” he interrupts my protest with an amused grin. “You told me that day you attacked me with your tongue.”
I go up in flames, yet little shivers run through me. For many, MANY different reasons. First of all, I told him that?—really? I like, told him personal stuff about me while I was consciously-zoned-out?? (Yikes!) But also, I’m all aquiver because he—you know—said I ‘attacked him with my tongue.’ *Blush*; *Quiver*; *Die*
I decide to completely ignore the tongue-attacking statement, because, you know (see above). So instead I stammer out, “Um … I told you that?”
I wince. “What else did I say?”
He shrugs. “All kinds of cute stuff.”
Aww. He said “cute.”
Cade Cole said “cute.”
Then he shocks me by saying, “Wait here. I’ll open the door for you. This place kind of yanks that type of stuff out you—manners. Right?”
I go up in flames yet again. ‘Cause that sounds like something I’d say. And he’s smiling like I did say it.
“Wait!” I squeak out.
He freezes with his hand on the door handle. Then he looks up at me with his eyebrows raised, waiting for me to go on—you know, actually speak.
“This place costs a lot,” I tell him.
He grins. “No kidding.”
I blink. “You’ve eaten here?”
“No. But I looked into it—since you had mentioned you like it so much.”
A jet of warmth washes through me. He ‘looked into it’—because of me? He probably only did it so he can impress other girls, I reason with myself. Just to be up on what girls like.
—but the thing is, he’s not really that kind of a guy. One that would bother trying to impress a girl.
I swallow, still feeling all warm, though I know I really shouldn’t be feeling this way. I swallow again. “I also like Burger Bob’s,” I tell him, just trying to spare him a huge bill on my account. I mean, it’s sweet beyond belief that he’s trying to cheer me up, or whatever, but I don’t want him to have to go into any kind of financial bind because of me.
I tell him quickly, “I like Burger Bob’s a lot.”
He grins. “I know. You told me that too.”
“Wow. I was a real motor-mouth.”
His grin twitches. Raising his eyebrows he says softly, “You were amazing with your mouth.”
Fireworks ignite through me from the way he said that, and the way his eyes are on me, like he’s getting flashes of our passionate kiss too.
Heat swamps my cheeks. “Um, could you maybe please not mention that stuff ever again—ever?”
“Aw.”
His adorable dismay sends a little tickle skittering through my stomach; it’s … dismaying. Guilt washing through me, I quickly add, “After all, I have a boyfriend.”
He grunts slightly, squeezing his eyes shut, but a tiny grin plays on his lips as he reminds me playfully, “The psychic lady saw a ‘C’ as your true love. Does your boyfriend have a C?—I mean, besides the C in ‘Cash’?”
I snort. “The psychic lady received cash to see a C.”
His grin twitches (probably as much from my snort, as from the fact that I just pointed out to him). He shakes his head. “No, I paid for her to see your true love—not to see a C. She did that all on her own.”
I jut my chin incredulously, “So, what you’re saying is: you’re my true love?”
His grin grows to epic proportions from my incredulous call-out. “It’s more like she said it,” he points out. Then to my utter shock he adds, “But I’m accepting it—yes.”
His lips twitch skyward, “—after all, your subconscious attacked me once it had the chance.”
Heat swamps my cheeks. Through gritted teeth I remind him, “We weren’t going to talk about that ever again.”
“Actually, I never agreed to that, and I don’t want to.” To my terror he adds, “It’s my favorite subject.”
My heart slams against my chest in panic. Oh no! It’s his favorite subject?!
He seems to realize he’s totally freaked me out with this information, but he’s too much of a tease, and enjoying this too much to completely put me at ease, though he does give me a break. He adds softly, “You’re the only person I can talk about it with, my favorite subject—since to do otherwise seems wrong.”
I let out a breath of relief. I mean, he’s reassuring me he doesn’t talk about it with other people, right? Right??? Thank goodness! Relief, relief!! I may not die on the spot of mortification after all. Maybe.
Finally able to breathe again, I instantly gush out, “It is wrong! So wrong. The whole thing was wrong.”
His eyes twinkling, he raises his brow, “It felt right.”
“No it didn’t. It�
��s making me die of guilt. And so is sitting here in this car with you talking about it.”
“Then let’s go into your fancy favorite restaurant to talk about it,” he says with a playful grin, pretending to reach for the door-handle again.
“No!” I yelp. “Take me to Ashton’s house. He’s home by now, and I shouldn’t be here with you.”
“You won’t be here with me—we’ll be in the restaurant,” he points out around a playful smile.
I huff. “You know what I’m saying.”
His grin quirks. “Well, I’ve learned I can’t believe what you say. I mean, that day in the mall you said you wanted me—but then after you attacked me, totally used me for my mad make-out skills, you then said you didn’t want me, yet all the while, your eyes were saying you did. And they’re saying it now too, by the way.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “They are not!”
He chuckles. “Well, now they’re not, but we both know they’re lying.”
I slink down in my seat, not knowing anything, actually. All I really know is, my heart is pounding like it’s going to pounce out of my chest.
This isn’t good.
I sigh, “Take me to my boyfriend, Cade.”
He sighs back, “Alright.”
Though under his breath he adds playfully, “—liar.”
CHAPTER 24
***JULIE***
JULIE
Ashton is just getting home from basketball practice as Cade drops me off in front of Ashton’s glamorous house.
Cade murmurs, “Whoa, I guess I can see what you like about the guy.”
He’s talking about the grandeur of the fancy house—not the awesomeness of Ashton. So, I don’t say a word. I just grunt, like: “Don’t even start.”
People at school act like Ashton buys everything that he wants—but he doesn’t ‘buy’ me. I actually love Ashton. I always have. Sometimes I wish he didn’t have so much money, just so he could relax and be more “normal” with people, instead of at a distance from them always, and like he’s above them. (Although a lot of guys at our school he is above—way above.) (But that’s part of why I like him, I guess.) (But it doesn’t have to do with money—I’m just not sure if Ashton is quite aware of that.)
Ashton glares as he watches me slink out of Cade’s car.
Cade gives him a big wave before he pulls away. He does it to mess with Ashton, of course.
It works.
Of course.
Ashton mutters, “Jerk!” under his breath, fuming mad and strangling his cell phone like he wants to throw it as he watches Cade drive away, then he glares back at me. “What was that about? Why did he give you a ride?”
“It was pouring, Ashton.”
“This is how you’re ‘avoiding’ him?—accepting rides with him?”
“Ashton, it was pouring,” I tell him again.
“That’s why you should let me buy you a car,” he mutters.
“Ashton, I can’t be in debt to you like that—you know that.” Our ‘break’ had taught me that in spades. And I informed him of it—many times—making him wince every time I did.
He winces now. “Are you always going to throw that in my face?—our break? Is that really what this is about, Julie?—your sudden obsession with that jerk? It’s just to get back at me?”
“Sure,” I say sarcastically, because what?!
“Well, it sure seems like it. Telling crazy lies about him—what was that about, Julie?” He shakes his head, like he’ll never understand, not in a thousand years. He grits his teeth, “Julie, the dude isn’t into you if that’s what he’s leading you to believe. You’re not his type—not even close.” Then he mutters, “And he’s not yours.”
“Right.” I swallow. “I know that.”
“Well, sometimes you don’t act like it.”
“Well, sometimes you don’t act like I’m yours, Ashton.”
“What, so you’re bringing up the break again?”
“No, I’m bringing up the way you flirt with Little Miss Cheerleader, Cheri, again.”
His jaw muscles flicker the tiniest bit, then he looks up at the sky and shakes his head. “That’s not on me, Julie, and you know it. She flirts with me—not the other way around. I can’t help it if she’s into me.”
“Maybe not—but you could definitely be a little more assertive that you’re not ‘into her.’ I mean, playing with her hair doesn’t exactly scream, ‘Stay away from me, I have a girlfriend.’”
“She had a leaf in her hair!”
“And gobs of friends standing right there who could have gotten it out for her—or one of the many football players that she has falling at her feet—she didn’t need you, who she obviously wants at her feet as well.”
Ashton lets out a breath. “Okay—so is that what this sudden interest in Neanderthal Cade Cole is about? Your attempt to get me to stop pulling leaves out of Cheri’s hair?”
“Sure,” I mutter. “—if it will work.”
“Fine. I promise not to pull any more leaves out of Cheri’s hair. She can have a whole tree grow in there and I won’t touch it—if it will keep you away from Cade.”
I grind my teeth. “It really sucks that it takes threats of Cade Cole to keep your hands out of Cheri’s hair.”
He lets out another breath. But this time it’s like the fight has gone out of him. “I don’t want to fight with you anymore, Julie.” He takes my hands and says softly, “Come here.”
I bite my lip, melting a little, but also knowing I’m going to make him upset again (even worse) with the news about the new addition to our school play.
I tell him softly, “I have something to tell you,” then add quickly, “But I’ll give you a back massage first—and cookies.”
CHAPTER 25
***JULIE***
JULIE
When I get home from Ashton’s, Hank’s car is gone, and mom is in tears. Great. My heart falls. “I saw Hank’s car here earlier, Mom. I’m sorry I didn’t send him away.”
She shakes her head. “No, I’m glad you didn’t. We had a good talk. He gave me a lot to think about.”
I eye her tears warily. “Well, it looks like the stuff he gave you was horrible—don’t think about it, Mom.”
She laughs slightly. “No, these aren’t tears of sadness, honey. They’re just tears of—well, not sadness. And what he gave me to think about wasn’t horrible. It’s just a lot to think about.”
I bite my lip, but she seems lost in thought over a guy. Just like me.
I’m lost.
Over a guy.
Well, two actually.
But one needs to go.
CHAPTER 26
***SOMEONE ELSE***
Someone Else
Okay, okay. Don’t get the wrong idea. I have no plans to off Julie. I’d like her gone—definitely. But I’m not going to actually do it. I mean, if you think I’m going to do something violent to her, you should stop holding your breath.
However, as I look through Cade’s room (for the hundredth time) I dream about it—Julie disappearing, me taking her place. It’s a wonderful dream. One where Cade stalks me and follows me home, and has screen-savers on his computer with my picture from the school yearbook. (Yes, he has a picture of Julie for his screen-saver.) (Her smiling perfect yearbook picture—bleck.) I quickly delete it. Just because. But once I do it, my heart pounds with panic. Like, explodes.
Because now he’ll know—or at least suspect—someone has been in his room. I come here all the time. He’s hardly ever here, and his older brother never is. Cade’s brother spends his every spare moment in the arms of a girl that manages a bookstore in the mall. And Cade spends his every moment playing hockey—well, when he’s not following Julie around all starry-eyed. (He doesn’t get to do that much though, due to the fact she has a boyfriend, and truly seems to avoid Cade. Craziness!)
As I’m going through Cade’s t-shirt drawer, I hear him come home. Oh no! He’s early! Usually on Wednesdays he doesn’t come h
ome until almost eleven! I quickly dash under his bed. Then gasp! I get to watch him undress! This is new! And exciting!
CHAPTER 27
***CADE***
CADE—the next morning
Last night I almost got Julie into that fancy restaurant she loves. At least I got her to the parking lot. It’s a start, right?
I’d been mortally late for hockey practice due to my (chivalrous? stalkerish? you decide) act which was in a car this time, instead of on foot. You know, the act where I make sure Jumpy Julie makes it home from the play okay, before I run back to the school for hockey practice. This time I got side-tracked thinking I might have a date-like thing with her. But no. However, I was willing to do it—miss hockey practice to spend time with her. That says something. (Something my coach wouldn’t like.) So last night, when I was so late, coach made me stay after practice and clean up his desk, which made me late for work. Well, almost late. (I sweat work because I need the hours, but I wasn’t late. Just close.) However, my boss let me off early due to a slow night, so I went home and climbed into bed with my dreamy thoughts on Julie. Then when I woke, I quickly took a shower—my thoughts still on her—and when I was hunting for my shoes under my bed, I found a girl’s hairclip.
Normally that wouldn’t be weird—finding random girl’s stuff in my messy room. But lately my room isn’t messy. My brother’s girlfriend’s little sister is a clean-freak or something. She’s always cleaning my room. It’s like I have my own personal maid. Which is nice, since I can’t afford a maid, yet enjoy a clean room (just not enough to do it myself). Anyway, the girl keeps my room spotless. In return, I let her hang out at my hockey practices—she has her eye on my teammate, Jake. (And Jake has his eye on any girl that is interested.) She’s shy though. She won’t actually talk to Jake. It’s cute. Oh, I also repay her by fixing her car all the time. She brings it to my shop a lot, and I give her guy-advice that she seems to listen to with bated-breath interest … and yet she doesn’t do a word I say. (Poor Jake.)
Kissing The Bad Boy Page 6