Impulse (New Adult Romance)

by C. J. Lake

  “C'mon, I wouldn’t go that far,” Torie said. “So his mom happens to know your dad. What's really the big deal?”

  “Um, did you not catch the part about how my dad might propose to this woman?” Cady pressed. “Mick could end up being my...ugh,” she groaned, covering her eyes. “I can't even think about it.”

  “I'll admit it's a crazy coincidence,” Torie commented with a tilt of her head.

  Suddenly, Cady was picturing Mick's rugged, vaguely shadowed face, his strong body, his mouth...she was vividly recalling what it was like to kiss him, to hear that deep, rough voice practically purring in her ear, and then the hot slick of his tongue... God, she wanted him so much. This was a disaster.

  Apparently oblivious to Cady's turmoil, Ember's face lit up as she suggested, “Hey, maybe you and Mick could be step-siblings-with-benefits!”

  “Ew!” Cady burst, shooting her an incredulous look. “Are you kidding me?”

  “I know how it sounds,” Ember continued brightly, “but I've read about that!”

  Cady's voice was deadpan as she replied, “Of course you've read about it—in all those salacious novels that you read on your phone.”

  Ember paused and thought for a moment. “Oh, wait, you're right,” she agreed, realizing. “That is where I've read about it.”

  Torie burst a laugh at that—which wrested a grin from Cady, too.

  “Look, those books are fiction. Obviously fiction can glamorize things that, in reality, would be considered pretty shady,” Cady reasoned.

  “I suppose,” Ember said noncommittally.

  “In real life, having a hot stepbrother is not a good thing,” Cady maintained, and then began rattling off “facts” like a district attorney. “It's a conflict of interest. It's an unnecessary temptation. It's a distraction. It's an ethical issue—”

  “And if you've already hooked up with him, it's probably just plain awkward at Thanksgiving,” Ember added, blinking with feeling. “Especially when he eventually brings home another girl.”

  “Stop, please,” Cady implored, covering her eyes again.

  “I'm just agreeing with you,” Ember said. “If you're in the same family, you'll most likely see each other at family holidays.”

  Dryly, Cady replied, “Well, now that my parents are divorced, I think I'm officially from a broken home, so the regular holiday rules might not apply.”

  “Oh, stop,” Torie said, trying to comfort her. “It's not a broken home.”

  “I guess,” Cady mumbled.

  “By the way, are you still going to be able to proofread my sociology paper?” Torie asked. “Or do you have too much angst going on?”

  “No, I can do it,” Cady replied glumly. “Just leave it on my desk.”

  With an apologetic look, Torie bit her lip and warned her, “It's really boring—sorry.” Ember giggled at that.

  “Here ya go,” the woman behind the counter said, passing Torie and Ember their wax-papered bundles of sugar-joy.

  “I'm such a pig,” Torie remarked airily, not sounding like she honestly mean it.

  Ember piped in, vowing, “I'll only eat half.” Meanwhile, Cady was reconsidering the coffee idea, because she still had some reading to do tonight. “Oh, there's Jenna!” Ember announced, waving to a table of girls by the window. Cady recognized most of them; she and Torie waved, too, but before joining them, Torie told Ember:

  “We'll be over in just a sec.” Once Ember had gone, Torie turned to Cady. Her tone was a bit warmer and more heartfelt as she said, “Listen, I don't want you to be upset. I know how weird it is when your parents get divorced. And I know how weird it is when your parents start dating.” She pressed a hand to her chest, as she emphasized, “Believe me, I get it. But trust me, this new relationship of your dad's is not going to last.”

  “But my dad said—”

  “He's just excited,” Torie cut her off, dismissing Cady's concerns with a careless wave of her hand. “This is the first person he's dated since your mom, right?” Cady nodded. “Okay, so he's like a baby duckling set in the water for the first time. Believe me, it won't amount to anything.”

  Though Cady was skeptical, she still grasped at the hope Torie was offering her. “You really think so?”

  “Yes, trust me! Do you know how many people my parents dated after they got divorced?” She paused to tally the answer, but gave up pretty quickly. “I've actually lost count by now.”

  “Really?” Cady said, feeling better. Of course, the idea of her dad becoming a major player wasn't exactly a comforting thought, either. Fortunately, in Brandall's case, the notion of him as a ladies’ man was too preposterous to imagine.

  Surely, the truth would lie somewhere in the middle. He wouldn't marry Linda Croft, because she would end up being more of a rebound, a starter girlfriend. Hopefully, Cady asked, “So you really think this will fizzle?”

  “Definitely,” Torie promised. “Trust me, it'll flame out. Mick is not going to become your stepbrother. You're not going to be step-siblings-in-heat, okay?” Cady had to laugh at that. “You can put this whole thing with Mick behind you—if that's what you want,” Torie finished astutely.

  “What's that crack supposed to mean?” Cady asked.

  She gave a little shrug. “You like him, that's what.”

  For a second, Cady froze. “Well...I...”

  “Cady, come on! You never hook up with anyone. Then, as soon as you see Mick—”

  Cady cut her off. “Torie, he lied to me. All that stuff about being out of school, about working in private security! Don't you remember?”

  “Technically his friend Quinn was the one who said all that.”

  “And Mick didn't correct him,” Cady pointed out, crossing her arms.

  “Fine, fair point,” Torie conceded.

  “Well, I'm done dating liars,” Cady stated firmly, willfully reminding herself not to lose her good sense here. “Even if Mick's mom breaks up with my dad, I still can't have anything with Mick. How could I ever trust him?”

  Torie slanted her brows a bit. “I think you're exaggerating here.”

  “No, I'm not,” Cady insisted.

  Okay, she could hardly fool her best friend. At the same time, she simply could not afford to like this guy or even to indulge the thought. Between the thing with their parents and his initial dishonesty, Mick Croft had to be off the table. It was that simple.

  “Look—Wes was a liar. But in my defense, I didn't know that until I got burned. I'm sure as hell not about to walk into it this time.”

  Chapter Twelve

  How did Torie talk her into these things? Cady wondered about a week later, as she and her roommate entered a jam-packed, noisy Halloween party on Sullivan Street—hosted by Logan Somebody, Torie's latest (sure to be fleeting) crush. A quick look around confirmed to Cady that she was over the party scene. Music throbbed through Logan's apartment, which was dark except for strings of skeleton lights and blinking pumpkins.

  Smushing her way through the elaborately-dressed crowd, Cady was relieved Torie had come up with such a simple idea for their Halloween costume tonight. This was it: Torie dressed in all white—tight white pants and long-sleeve white top—and Cady in black. Torie wore some shimmery white eye shadow for effect, and Cady might have gone a little heavy with the black eyeliner, but that was it, costume done. Of course, no one would have a clue what they were supposed to be, but that was fine by Cady, who really only came tonight to appease Torie anyway.

  Normally Cady loved Halloween, and the whole season leading up to Christmas, but this year felt different somehow. She supposed she could say that she'd just been preoccupied and that Halloween had crept up on her, so silently as to be almost missed altogether. More likely, though, her lack of holiday spirit had to do with her family; this Halloween marked the first official holiday since her parents divorce. It was stupid, of course, because Cady was not ten-years-old. Her parents splitting up shouldn't feel as depressing as it did (when she let herself think abo
ut it), but apparently cold, clear logic and the childlike joy of the holidays were two separate entities.

  The past week had gone by pretty quickly, with Cady's usual strategy of avoidance: distracting herself with school work—even drafting a paper that wasn't due until next month—and watching tons of movies (technically an offshoot of schoolwork, too, since her two electives this semester were film classes).

  She hadn't seen Mick since last Sunday night at Travelli's. Of course she'd thought of him—a lot. Then, after leaving the library on Tuesday evening, she'd turned her phone back on only to discover a missed call from him. He'd left a simple, short message; anyone overhearing it would assume they were casual friends.

  Cady's stomach had fluttered wildly when she saw the missed call. Then her pulse had sped up just listening to Mick's voice. Admittedly, she'd replayed the message about twenty times since then—but she never called him back. She was ducking Mick for the simple reason that she had no idea what to say. Ever since their uncomfortable, surreal “family” dinner at Travelli's...well, what could either of them say about the situation?

  They had shared one steamy night, apparently filled with half-truths, and followed it up with an unexpected reunion in the mortifying company of their parents who were secretly dating. Where could one go with that?

  As it was, Cady felt sort of embarrassed by the whole thing, even though Torie had assured her more than once: “You have nothing to be embarrassed about! Seriously, Cady, you over-think everything.”

  Maybe so, but she certainly wasn't going to call Mick up and share a laugh at the funny coincidence, or at the fact that her dad had gone off the deep end over Linda.

  Now Cady and Torie made their way into the kitchen, which was far less crowded. The center island served as a makeshift bar, lined with liquor bottles and lit up by more skeleton lights. Entering the kitchen should have been a breath of air—instead, it stopped Cady short and she gasped.

  Oh. No.

  Her breath stalled in her throat as her stomach knotted up tight. “Um...Torie?”

  “Yeah?” her friend said distractedly, looking past a cluster of people crowding the keg that stood in the far corner. “There's Logan!” she whispered excitedly, then waved to a frat-boy-looking guy, leaning against the kitchen counter. He radiated arrogance and that alone repelled Cady, though she'd only spared him a fleeting glance. At the moment, she was way too focused on someone else.

  “Can we go?” she asked.

  “Go where?” she called over her shoulder.

  “I mean leave.”

  “What…?” Torie began, understandably confused. “We just got here!”

  Swallowing hard, Cady replied, “I know, but…I just saw Mick.”

  At that, Torie whipped around to face her. “What! Are you serious?”

  “Of course I’m serious.”

  “Where?” Torie asked, angling her head all around.

  “Don't be so obvious!” Cady whispered urgently.

  “Sorry, sorry.” Leaning in closer, Torie reassured her, “Okay—so Mick's here. No big deal.”

  “Yes it is. It's totally awkward!”

  “No, it's not,” Torie maintained. “Just wave hello and be done with it.”

  “I can't do that,” Cady mumbled (though, truthfully, she wasn't sure why not).

  “Yes, you can,” Torie replied, almost breezily. If only Cady could take everything as lightly as she did.

  “I'm not waving hello to him.”

  With an easy shrug, Torie said, “Okay, so then just ignore him and be done with it. He's a grown man; I think he can handle it.”

  Unwittingly, Cady flattened her palm on her stomach. “I feel sick.”

  Torie's expression softened. “It's just your nerves,” she promised. “What you need is a drink.” Tugging gently on Cady's arm, she added, “Give it a chance, okay? We just got here. I didn't even get a chance to talk to Logan yet.”

  Cady nodded. “You're right.” There was no reason to kill Torie's night just because Mick was here. It was honestly ridiculous for Cady to feel so affected by his presence.

  Still...that didn't change how helplessly self-conscious she became, knowing that he was in this very kitchen and could spot Cady at any second.

  As Torie moved closer to the twinkling lights of the bar, Cady trailed behind her—or she started to, anyway. She wasn’t sure when she’d stopped moving altogether. Or exactly how many moments evaporated. But there she was—lingering in the center of the kitchen—her eyes suddenly locked with Mick's.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It had started with some simple covert checking—had he noticed her yet?—and that was when she got distracted. First by how attractive she found him. Why did Mick seem more handsome now than when they'd met?

  Cady admired his confidence. Even now, he appeared casual and self-assured, holding a bottle of beer and talking to someone.

  Which led to Cady's second distraction: the someone. A tall, striking brunette who had dressed up as Snow White (if Snow White were a sex worker). Feeling a lump rise in her throat, Cady tried not to feel intimidated by this girl, who was blatantly sexy and probably interested in Mick.

  It was after Cady's eyes had traveled up and down Snow White, that they'd slid back to Mick—and she found him looking at her.

  If he'd been surprised when he first noticed her, she wasn't sure. Now, though, he was gazing directly at her, his expression unreadable. Finally he gave her a nod of recognition. Reluctantly, Cady smiled and gave a wave.

  Which was apparently all the encouragement he needed to approach her.

  Her stomach tightened as she watched him cross the kitchen, coming closer. Futilely, she willed her stubborn heartbeat to stop sprinting. It would be a conversation, not a confrontation. What logical reason was there to feel nervous?

  “Hey,” Mick said, setting beer bottle down on the nearby table, “I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.”

  Cady managed a smile. “Same here. I thought you didn't like parties.”

  “They’re all right,” he qualified. “I’m not a hermit,” he added with a laugh. “Besides, these guys live upstairs from me.”

  “Oh, I see.” Of all the places in Boston, Logan Somebody had to live in Mick's building. Perfect. “So, let me guess...” Cady began, eyeing his blue jeans and plain dark pullover. “You’re too cool to dress up for Halloween.”

  “You got it,” Mick admitted with a confident grin.

  Helplessly, Cady gave a soft laugh as she shook her head. She could feel herself getting drawn in—already—which was crazy.

  Still, her palms began to sweat. Mick glanced down at her empty hands. “Want a drink?”

  No—a drink would definitely be a flawed idea. If she started drinking, she might let her guard down. Since she had resolved not to act on her attraction to Mick, alcohol could only hurt the cause. “No thanks, Torie's getting one for me,” she improvised, then glanced around the room, presumably for Torie.

  “You okay?”

  “Sure, why?”

  “You...seem skittish around me all of a sudden,” Mick said.

  “No, I—I'm not,” Cady lied. Though skittish was probably a good word for it; so was flustered and conflicted. Being this close to Mick made her remember their hook-up, and way too well. It must have been a primal reaction, this sudden assault of images—his lips on her neck, his hands everywhere...the visceral, arousing memory of him swelling harder in her mouth...

  Just then Cady noticed that Snow White was watching them. Though still posed across the room, she intermittently threw glances at Mick—and glares at Cady.

  “But I wouldn't want to take you away from your girlfriend,” Cady added, eyeing Snow White.

  Confused, Mick said, “What girlfriend?” Then turned his head, following Cady's glance. “Oh—she's in my Civil War class,” he explained, turning back. “I don't have a girlfriend, remember?”

  “Well, she's staring daggers at me.”

  Mic
k ignored that and focused on Cady, coasting his eyes down her body, then back up. Her heart beat faster under the heat of his gaze, and Cady felt herself blushing. “So, is this a Halloween costume?” he asked of her form-fitting black shirt and pants.

  “Yes.”

  After one more quick glance, he grinned. “Okay, I give up. What are you supposed to be? A shadow?”

  Impressed, Cady said, “No, but that's a really clever idea. I wish I'd thought of that.”

  “Hmm, all black, let's see...” Mick continued, grinning at her again, then guessed some more. “Cat woman?”

  “No.”

  “Ninja?”

  “No.”

  “Avenger? Mime? Struggling poet?”

  Cady laughed. “This is you giving up?”

  Grinning, Mick said, “All right, smartass, so just tell me.”

  “I’m Yin, if you must know,” she said with a small smile. Predictably, he knitted his brows, confused. “You know, a Yin Yang? Black and white symbol? Well, Torie is Yang; she's in white,” Cady explained.

  “Ah...I see.”

  She could tell he was humoring her. “When we hug for pictures it comes together,” she added, which was basically a regurgitation of the pitch Torie had given when she'd come up with the idea. “It's not a political statement,” Cady hastened to mention. Mick's mouth quirked up at that and Cady realized how inane she was beginning to sound.

  Just then, someone bumped into Cady from behind—pitching her forward, making her nearly collide with Mick.

  She managed to catch herself in time, but still he brought his hands up to her arms to steady her. Behind her, she heard a vaguely uttered, slurred apology from someone, but she didn't bother to look. Her eyes were on Mick, who was a little closer to her now. He held onto her gently and for only a moment, before dropping his hands from her arms.

  Casually, he said, “Listen, Cady, it's good to run into you tonight. To be honest, I wasn't sure if you were still pissed at me.”