by C. J. Lake
“Of course not,” she said.
“I called you a couple days ago,” he mentioned.
She sidestepped the implicit question there. “Yes, speaking of that...I don't recall giving you my number, Mick.”
“I got it from my mom. I told her that since she's dating your dad, I should have your number, in case of an emergency.”
Cady smirked at that, tilting her head. “Slick.”
“I never heard back from you,” he added.
Wow, he was actually calling her out! Acting nonchalant, Cady told him, “I don't usually call back guys who lie to me.”
With a short, gruff laugh, Mick shook his head and said, “Damn, you really can hold a grudge, can't you?”
Cady paused, swallowing down her uncertainty. Was she being too much of a bitch?
No, in fact this was just good strategy. Operation: Cope-with-the-possibility-that-my-dad-might-actually-marry-Mick's-mom. Distance was needed; not flirtation. And besides that, Mick had lied to Cady that first night—or at the very least, had allowed Cady to believe his friend's lies—and he should not get a pass on it simply because he didn't find the point noteworthy.
Changing directions, Mick commented, “So, it looks like this thing with our parents is going strong.”
Her eyes snapped up to his. Did he hate the whole thing as much as she did? “For now.”
“Can't last,” he agreed.
“What makes you think that?” Cady asked hopefully. “Did your mom say something?”
“No, but I just can’t see them together. They’re too opposite.”
“And they're moving way too fast,” she threw in. “I didn't even know the relationship existed until my dad dropped the bomb on me at Travelli's!”
“Same here!” Mick commiserated.
Both of them shook their heads. “It's crazy.”
“The whole thing's coming out of left field.”
“I still can’t believe my dad has a girlfriend,” Cady mused.
Mick muttered, “Yeah, me, either,” which rankled Cady, who came to her father's defense.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing...just agreeing with you, that's all.”
“Are you saying that you can't believe my dad has a girlfriend either?” she asked, annoyed. “Because you don't even know him.” (Though, inwardly, she knew her dad wasn't exactly Mr. Suave. She had to cringe when she recalled a moment at Travelli's, after Linda had asked Brandall about his day, and he'd embarked on a rambling, fragmented answer that included an equation about the charge densities of hadrons.)
“Look, let’s not argue, it’s stupid,” Mick said. “They have zero in common and that's obvious. Plus, they're rushing it.”
“Yes. Exactly.”
“I don’t see this lasting,” Mick continued, then stepped closer.
Just that slight shift closer had amplified her physical awareness of him. Then his eyes darkened, becoming more intense and smoldering as he looked at her; uncertainly, she waited. He was about to say something. As it was, Cady found Mick's voice incredibly sexy. It was deep, but it wasn't silky-smooth. There was an almost rough timbre to it that was richly masculine and appealing.
Now, as his tone became more intimate, she instantly felt her body react. “So where does that leave us?”
“Wh—us?” she repeated stupidly.
“You and me,” he said softly and inched even closer—which only reminded her how good he smelled.
“N-nowhere,” she managed to eke out. Remember your resolve, she told herself. Distance, not flirtation.
“C'mon, Cady,” Mick murmured, “that's it?” For a moment, she just looked up at him. “Don’t we deserve another night?” The husky strum of Mick’s voice nearly sent shivers through her. “We could even make it ‘no strings’ since that’s what you’re into?” he suggested playfully.
Please, that was so not what she was into; in fact, she’d tried it just once—with Mick—and look at her. Still wanting him, still thinking about him.
“No,” she said finally.
“No to no strings?” he questioned.
Inhaling sharply, Cady replied, “No to all of it.” Though his face was inscrutable, she sensed that Mick was as unconvinced as she felt, so she doubled-down. “We can't hook up again.”
“Why not?” he asked simply, still not moving away. “We barely got started the first time.” Her eyes widened for a second. Barely got started? God...
She fought a sudden carnal reaction that sent her pulse leaping and made her cheeks flush. For an insane, overheated second, she imagined what else they could have done that night—
Abruptly, she caught herself. What am I doing??
Was she that weak? That hot for this guy? Where was her resolve?
To regain a sense of control, Cady straightened her posture (always a pretty good precursor to prissiness). “Mick, we’re forgetting that night, remember?”
He slanted her a look. “We are? When did I agree to that?”
“You have no choice,” Cady replied crisply. “I’m still annoyed with you.”
He grunted dismissively. “No, you’re not.”
“What! Why would you say that I’m not?”
“Because I already apologized for misleading you that night. And because it really wasn’t that big of a deal.”
Secretly she knew he was right, but she had to keep some distance.
Obviously Cady didn't have to be a Psych major to realize that most of her fury with Mick at the moment was driven by suppressed desire. Sure, if life were simple, things might be different and Cady could do what she truly wanted—which was basically a repeat of everything they'd done last weekend, and then more.
But she could not let her guard down again with this guy; he affected her way too much for that.
Crossing her arms, Cady replied, “Wow, so you’re just off the hook then, huh? After you…”
“What?”
“...got me into bed under false pretenses,” she managed.
Then Mick had the nerve to laugh. “Got you into bed? C'mon, you must be kidding. Cady—we barely did anything!” His voice was gruff as he leaned his face a fraction closer to hers, adding, “And if you want to be accurate here, it was more like you got me into bed.” When she didn't immediately protest, Mick continued, almost glibly, “What could I do? You were pressing up close to me with those big blue eyes…that mouth…waiting for me to kiss you, practically challenging me to kiss you…”
“I was not,” Cady protested weakly, her voice soft and almost cracking. Already her arms had relaxed, slipping out of their defensive posture, falling back to her sides.
Somehow their faces had drawn closer, and Mick's mouth was only a few inches from hers. She could almost feel his breath on her lips. “You were,” he murmured thickly, his deep voice making her burn. She felt heat spreading through her body, as perspiration broke on the back of her neck. It suddenly felt like it was 110 degrees in that kitchen. They were way too close to each other.
And she panicked. “Oh, my God, you're trying to get to me again!” Cady whispered, hoping no onlookers had noticed how much Mick was affecting her. A little flustered, she took an abrupt step back—then one more, just to break the spell.
Straightening up, Mick sighed. “All right, forget it. Like I said earlier: let's not argue. Obviously you just want to stay mad at me.”
“And obviously you're impossible to reason with.”
“And you're frustrating as hell.”
“Sorry to interrupt.”
They both looked over as Torie approached. She acknowledged Mick with a cursory smile. “Hey—I remember you.”
Mick nodded. “Donovan Shay's, right?”
“Yep. So, how's the private security business?” she asked sarcastically. At least Mick had the good shame to cast his eyes downward for a moment, as if to say he had no defense. Finally, a shred of humility! Smiling sweetly, Torie added, “By the way, tell your friend, Quinn, th
at he's full of shit.”
With an effacing half-grin, Mick replied, “Believe me, he knows that.”
Turning her attention back to Cady, Torie said, “Listen, I just wanted to warn you.” She offered a look of apology before she told her: “Wes is here.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Wes...” Cady echoed, her voice practically a whisper.
“I just saw him by the bathroom.”
“I can't believe Wes is here,” Cady said, annoyed. “What the hell? He graduated last year. He was supposed to be traveling.”
“True, but you know how people still linger in Boston after they graduate. Oh, Cady, I'm sorry I made us stay at this party!”
Cady shook her head. “No, it’s okay. It's no big deal, honestly.” Surprising herself a little, she added, “I don't even care.”
Now she was just lying. Even though she shouldn't, even though months had passed, on some level she did care. And even felt vaguely nauseous at the thought of coming face-to-face with the heart-stomper, who was sure to act like Mr. Perfect Saint, forcing Cady to fake a bubbly hello.
And what if he was here with her?
“So Wes is your ex-boyfriend?” Mick said quietly. “The one who cheated on you?”
Glumly, Cady nodded. For some reason she was unable to meet Mick's eyes. “Yes.”
Blinking in surprise, Torie said, “You told him all that?” Then, clearly impressed, she grinned. “Wow, you guys really bonded.” Feeling herself blush, Cady almost glared at her. Suddenly, Torie yelped, “Shoot! Don't look!”
“Oh, no, what?”
“Wes just saw you. Uh oh...” Torie went on, looking past Cady's shoulder, “he's coming this way.”
“Great,” Cady muttered under her breath.
“He's getting closer,” Torie's play-by-play continued, “and he's got that stupid look on his face.”
“Which one?”
“The I'm-okay-you're-okay-I-have-no-idea-you-hate-me dopey smile,” Torie explained.
“Ah, right, that one,” Cady said, picturing it perfectly.
Mick spoke again, and there was something personal—intimate—in his tone. “Is that the girl he cheated with?”
Helplessly, Cady turned her head. How else could she answer the question? For a quick, painful second, she was pelted backward eight months, punched in the chest as she saw Zee, the “student model” Wes had left Cady for, who was obviously still his girlfriend. Surprisingly, though, the sense of pain was fleeting, like a dissipating cloud that lacked the substance to stake out a real place on the horizon.
With Wes and Zee approaching, Mick murmured, “Damn, he must be a complete idiot.”
At that, Cady's eyes shot to Mick’s face; she looked up at him with genuine appreciation, charmed by the implication of what he'd said. Hidden in his insult of Wes was a sweet compliment for her.
Then came the moment. Of course, it was inevitable as soon as Cady had succumbed to curiosity and glanced back. Wes's eyes met hers.
In typical Wes fashion, his whole face lit up, breaking into an enormous smile, as if merely time had separated them and not his own actions.
Ignoring Zee, Cady kept her gaze fixed on Wes. In superficial terms, he hadn't changed. His dark blonde hair was still artfully shaggy, sweeping across his forehead at a haphazard slant so as to fall almost over one eye. He had smooth features and a sweet-puppy sort of look that made him adorable, really. The kind of look that would make a woman of means want to become his patroness—to set up a private studio for him, bankroll his career and in turn, buy his attentions. And when that day came, Cady thought with a kind of bittersweet cynicism, Zee would know what it was like to be replaced.
“Hey, Cady,” Wes said, still with a big, beaming smile like they were best friends from summer camp reuniting after a school year apart. “You look amazing,” he said, applying the power of his warm smile and endearing hazel eyes. “I guess it's been a minute, huh?”
“Hi, Wes.”
With his mouth still curved upward, Wes shifted his attention from Cady to her friend. “Hey there, Torie. How've you been?”
Amiably, Torie managed a smile. “Hey, Wes.”
Cady cleared her throat, determined to regain her footing. “Um, what are you doing in Boston? I thought you would be traveling this year.” Back when they were together, he'd talked a lot about “painting the world” after graduation.
Nodding, Wes agreed, “Yeah, I know that was the plan.”
“You seemed pretty definite about it.”
“I know, right? I was trippin' about trippin,'” Wes declared with a deprecating laugh. “But then, ya know, we kinda decided to put it on hold.”
We decided.
Yuck.
Though her pulse was thumping with agitation now, Cady had to remind herself: she was over Wes, so she had no reason to be jealous of Zee. And if she were no longer jealous about the girl, then she should no longer be angry about her, either. So what if Wes had fallen for Zee when she was modeling (naked) for his “Painting the Human Form” class. So what if they were still joined at the hip. Cady should be “happy” for them, right?
Nope.
“You remember Zee,” Wes mentioned casually, as if simple, friendly re-introductions weren't out of context here.
“Sure,” was all Cady said.
She and Zee exchanged brief, hateful glares as only women could. Then Wes took Zee's hand, threading his fingers through hers, obviously not wanting her to feel left out. It was strange the way a gesture could be thoughtful and yet insensitive as hell at the same time. After all, Wes had dumped Cady for Zee. Just because it happened last year didn’t mean he had to rub it in Cady’s face as though it had never happened.
“Well, good seeing you, Wes,” Cady lied—and leaned a little closer to Mick. It just happened. It was pure impulse. As was the next thing she said: “But actually, we were just heading out.”
Her arm was lightly brushing against Mick's. She felt his presence, potent and strong beside her—and she was so grateful when he didn't hesitate. Instead, he edged closer to her, too. Naturally, it seemed, Mick slid his hand over hers. And she threaded her fingers through his—it all happened so quickly, way too easily—then they were holding hands as if they were together. Instantly, Cady felt her pulse leap. “Yeah, we've exhausted this scene,” Mick agreed.
At that, Wes's perpetually dreamy expression became a bit more focused. With an assessing look at Mick and Cady, he said, “Oh, so, you—you two are—?” He halted for a second, before throwing his everyone-loves-me smile at Mick. “Hey, man. I'm Wes.”
“Yeah, I got that,” Mick said.
That was it. Cady wanted to laugh. In fact, she almost did—feeling giddily relieved, as Mick led her out of the kitchen with a generic, “See ya later” over his shoulder.
Soon she and Mick were moving hand-in-hand through the costumed mob in the living room, finally making their way to the other side. “Want to step outside for a minute? Get some air?”
“Yes,” Cady said gratefully, allowing Mick to lead her straight out the door.
Chapter Fifteen
Once they were out in the hall, the noise seemed to evaporate. Though they were just steps away, the thumping of the base suddenly seemed distant. Out here, Mick had Cady all to himself.
And she was still holding his hand, Mick noticed.
“Thanks,” she said now, as they wandered over to a nearby window.
“Sure, no problem.”
“I hope I'm not ruining the party for you.”
“Nah. You shooting me down already did that.”
Cady laughed at that, which pulled a grin from him, too. Teasingly, she said, “Sorry. It was nothing personal.”
“Wow, it wasn't?” Mick said dryly.
Still half-smiling, she dropped her eyes. He could sense a shyness coming over her again. Standing out here with her like this, away from everyone else, made his adrenaline rise. There was nothing romantic or intimate about where they st
ood. Mick lived in this building himself, so he was very familiar with the bleak fluorescent lighting in the halls and the old, rattling radiators. No one would mistake this corridor for a date spot or even a decent place to make a move on a girl. Yet, as he stood here with Cady, all he could think of was kissing her.
Before he could make a bold move and pull her closer, she let go of his hand. His spirits sank a little, but he kept his face neutral. Conversationally, he said, “So, you wanted to make him jealous, huh?”
At that, Cady's pretty blue eyes grew wide. “No! Not at all, I swear. I'm over the whole thing with Wes.”
“Glad to hear that. I wouldn't want you wasting your energy on a tool like that.”
Curious, she paused, squinting at him. “Why do you say he's a tool?”
“C'mon,” Mick said mockingly, “tripping about tripping? Who says that?”
With a giggle, Cady conceded, “Yeah...he can be a bit much.” Then she shrugged. “But even though I don't want to be with him anymore, I just wanted to show him that I've moved on.”
Mick nodded. “I understand. You know, if you really want to sell it, we could go back in there and start making out,” he suggested kiddingly (somewhat...mostly).
Cady gave a wry grin. “Ha, sure.”
“Just offering.”
“Well, if we did that, I'd tip my hand; Wes would definitely know something was off.”
“What do you mean?”
“Wes knows I don't do PDA,” Cady explained, and Mick had to laugh—a genuine, hearty laugh, which earned him a questioning look.
“You don't?” he challenged, unable to suppress his grin. “Miss Let's-Kiss-on-a-Crowded-Street-Corner-and-See-If-We-Like-It?”
Now she blushed, which showed him that she wasn't as dismissive as she pretended. Maybe Cady didn't do PDA with that guy, Wes, but she'd had no problem openly kissing Mick last weekend—on the street, in the cab—and getting as caught up in it as he was.
Still, she tried to play it off by rolling her eyes. “I wasn't thinking clearly that night.”
“I'll take credit for that then.”