by C. J. Lake
“Shit!” Mick exclaimed softly, shaking his head. “I can't believe this...”
“What...?” Torie prodded, confused.
“No wonder she's been so cold to me,” Mick muttered, more to himself, still absorbing what Torie had just told him. He was both relieved and furious at the same time. So Cady thought that he had cheated on her with Juliana. Finally some damn clarity!
This explained why she'd dumped him—why she suddenly hated him!
So this was why Cady had texted him the other night to ask about the UConn party. At the time, Mick had believed her when she'd said it was just random curiosity. Never had he suspected that she was actually handing him the rope to hang himself. God, he never should have lied to her about Juliana being at the party. Major mistake.
But for fuck's sake, why not just tell him what she'd heard?
Then Mick's mind answered the question. Of course she hadn't because this was Cady. She had to be stubborn. She had to withdraw into herself, to stay composed, to protect herself, to act distant. It was like she was so poised to be hurt that she had a built-in armor. Honestly, Mick hadn't realized that Cady's cynicism ran this deep. Before now, he'd thought her skepticism about men was actually kind of cute—like a wannabe-iciness that Mick could always melt—he hadn't taken it seriously.
But now realized it was a problem. Douchebag Wes had clearly fucked up Cady's trust in guys, for real. But still...couldn't she just talk to Mick about this, before blowing up their whole relationship?
It was kind of hard to fathom. And he wanted to be mad at her for cutting him off cold with no explanation. For trying to punish him, for not telling him why. But Mick just couldn't find the anger right now. He was too busy being relieved that this was all a mistake and he could fix it. “Listen, Torie, I've got to talk to her—right now. Where is she?”
Reluctantly, Torie hedged. “Um...well, I don't want her to get more upset.”
“No, no, she won't,” Mick assured her brusquely. “Look, it's all a lie.”
“You mean you didn't—”
He shook his head. “Never happened. So please, tell me where she is. I can't have Cady thinking something that's not true.”
“She was home when I left,” Torie said, “but she mentioned that she was probably going to go finish her take-home exam at Midnite Bakery, if it wasn't too crowded.”
“Thanks, Torie,” he replied quickly, jogging the last few steps to the ground floor and yanking open the stairwell door. He was too keyed up to deliberate and wasn't going to waste another second. Faintly he heard Torie's voice murmuring, “Good luck...” before the heavy steel door wheezed shut.
Chapter Forty-eight
Midnite Bakery was just a couple blocks away. It was a popular place with BU students, though Mick would never have thought to look for Cady here. Thank God he'd run into Torie tonight and learned the truth.
Now he pushed open the glass door and scanned the crowded room. The place was packed with people, and while Mick recognized some of the faces, he was disappointed that he couldn't find Cady's among them. Damn it, where was she—
“Mick? Hey!” came a girl's friendly voice. Mick whipped around and found petite Juliana coming up behind him, an empty paper cup in her hand. “What's up? Are you done with finals yet?” she asked, smiling. As usual, her tone was perky and upbeat. He wondered if she had any idea that apparently there was a rumor going around that they had slept together.
“Oh, um, hey, Juliana,” Mick said, forcing a brief smile. “Nah, I have one more exam tomorrow morning.”
“Me, too,” she said. “By the way, I just saw your friend here a few minutes ago.”
That caught his attention; he sharpened his gaze. “Friend?”
“Yeah, you know, that girl you introduced me to at Polar. Cady, right? Anyway, I waved to her, but I guess she didn't recognize me,” Juliana concluded with a shrug.
Didn't recognize you? Mick thought cynically. More like: the exact opposite.
“Where is she?” he asked now, looking around again. “I don't see her.”
“Don't know, she just left,” Juliana replied. As she crossed past Mick to throw out her empty cup, she said, “I saw her pack up her stuff and go.”
“Shit,” Mick uttered under his breath, disappointed, before focusing on Juliana again. “I've got to go. I actually came here looking for her,” he explained.
“Oh, okay. Well, if I don't see you again, have a great break!” she enthused.
“Thanks, you too,” Mick mumbled, turning away. Then he paused, not sure if he should say anything more to Juliana. He didn't want to upset her, but at the same time, he figured she had a right to know. “Listen, Juliana...I'm not sure if you've heard anything about this, but, well, there seems to be a rumor going around that you and I got together at the UConn party,” Mick said.
“W-what?” she replied, her expression faltering. “You mean...?”
“Yeah.”
“I just found out about it. But I thought you should know. I swear it didn't come from me,” he promised her.
Juliana was quiet for a second—stunned, it seemed. Then she asked, “So how did you hear about it?”
Mick sighed, explaining, “I didn't—but apparently my girlfriend did. And now she hates me. That's why I've got to find her.”
“Girlfriend?” Juliana echoed, sounding upset. “You mean, that girl from Polar...she and you...?”
Mick nodded. “Yeah.”
Shutting her eyes for a second, Juliana murmured, “Gosh, Mick, I'm so sorry.”
“Hey, it's not your fault,” he started to say, when Juliana cut him off:
“Actually, it is.”
“What do you mean?”
Now Juliana's eyes shifted uncomfortably and her voice dropped. “See, I told my friends that,” she whispered. “But, Mick, I swear: I had no idea that you had a girlfriend already!”
Mick stood there stupidly for a second, taking in what Juliana had just said, trying to make sense of it. “I'm confused—what exactly did you tell them?”
Juliana seemed to squirm, as her eyes dodged his and her face turned pink. “Just that...you and I, you know, had sex.”
“What?” Mick said, confused, thinking, Christ, “just” that? It wasn't even close to the truth.
And since when did girls start rumors about themselves?
“Why would you do that? Juliana, we didn't even kiss.”
“I know, it's just...” Covertly, she glanced over her shoulder. When she looked at him again, she was blinking widely, her face full of regret. “Let me explain. See, it's just that my friends are always riding me about guys. They're way more experienced than me. They tease me about how I hardly ever hook up with anyone, so, sometimes I just make stuff up to keep them quiet.
“Since you and I did run into each other that night, I suppose you were the first name that came to mind when they started pestering me...” Gulping in a breath, Juliana apologized again. “I didn't mean to mess up your relationship, Mick! I didn't think it was a big deal—I never even thought this would get back to you!”
“All right, I mean, I understand,” Mick said grudgingly, before he shook his head. And told her bluntly, “Wait—actually I don't. Why would you feel like you need to lie to your friends? I just don't get it.”
Now Juliana blushed harder; it was unmistakable, the sudden darkness of her cheeks. Her voice became almost timid as she confided, “I don't want them to know that I'm still a virgin.”
Boom—just like that.
Jesus, what could you say?
At first, Mick wasn't sure how to react. While he couldn't care less if Juliana was a virgin and certainly didn't think anything bad about it, it seemed like a heavy statement to drop on him—especially as it was obviously an important topic to her. “Why not?” was all he could come up with, shrugging casually. “Why the hell should your friends care if you're a virgin? There's nothing wrong with it.”
He truly didn't know her well enough to
have some “big brother” type of conversation about sex, and yet, in this moment, he felt inexplicably protective of Juliana, like she was a little sister or something.
“I know, but...for whatever reason, they always make fun of girls who are still virgins. Not to their faces or anything, but... It's dumb—I know there's nothing wrong with it,” she assured Mick, “but still, I don't feel like getting into it with them. So, you know, I just go along, humor them, act like I'm not one. It's never been a problem before.” After exhaling a breath, she elaborated, “I'm actually saving myself for marriage—in case you were curious—but I know my friends, okay? They would think that was so dorky.”
“Seriously?” Mick said, scrunching his brows, thinking: Great fucking friends. Time to ditch them. But he held his tongue on that one. It wasn't his place and honestly his only priority at the moment was getting Cady back. “Listen, I should go.”
“Do you want me to talk to your girlfriend?” Juliana offered.
“No, no,” Mick said, waving off the idea. “Don't worry about it. I'll explain everything to her.”
“You think she'll understand?” Juliana said, wincing a little, as though worried.
“Sure,” Mick said. “Of course she will.”
She had to, right? It was a simple misunderstanding. Surely, even a complicated girl like Cady would see that.
Chapter Forty-nine
Once Cady returned to her apartment, she set her laptop on the breakfast bar and tried to block Juliana's face from her mind. She brewed herself a cup of coffee, which was not nearly as good as Midnite Bakery's “Columbian Special,” but oh well, wasn't that just her luck? There was no way Cady could have stayed and concentrated on her paper once she'd spotted Mick's other woman there. God, and Juliana had actually had the audacity to wave!
Blech—forget it.
It took extreme force of will, but Cady shifted her focus back to her laptop.
After she proofread her take-home exam for the last time, she uploaded it to her professor, and waited for the confirmation message to pop up, which read: Successfully submitted.
So now it was official; she was done with fall semester.
Normally she felt a swell of relief when exams were over, but tonight she just felt self-pitying and sad. Not a pretty picture.
Suddenly there was a knock at the door.
Instinctively, Cady's pulse kicked up. Could it be Mick? She had zero basis to think it was, and their interaction tonight at their parents' house had hardly ended on a good note, but still... While it wasn't rational to think of him, it was apparently now her default reaction to a knock at her door.
With her belly fluttering, she hopped off the bar stool and walked down the hall. “Yes?” she said through the closed door.
“Cady.”
Her breath stalled for a second. It actually was Mick! Frantically, her mind scattered with questions. What could he want? What would she say? What might happen? After all, there was no one here to act as a buffer between them.
She opened the door, giving him a dead stare, despite what a fevered wreck she was inside. “Hi.”
“Hey,” Mick said, looking a bit on edge. “Okay, look, there's something I need to clear up with you.” With that, he walked right into her apartment, not waiting to be invited and bypassing any attempt at small talk. “I need you to listen to me.”
“Mick—”
“No, you're going to talk to me,” he said firmly. “You're going to listen to what I have to say.”
Cady was kind of stunned into silence. She was not afraid of him—never that—but it wasn't like Mick to storm in like this and basically boss her. Here he'd showed up at her door and then was giving orders.
But, with his eyes burning into her, Cady couldn't help but acquiesce. Guiltily, she knew that she probably owed Mick that. And even though she was still mad and hurt, she was genuinely curious what he would say.
“Okay,” Cady said softly, crossing over to the upholstered bench seat, a few feet from the front door.
Mick followed, taking a seat beside her, and turning toward her. “Look, I know what you heard—and it was completely wrong,” he declared.
“How—?”
“I ran into Torie at the library,” Mick explained. “Listen to me: I did not sleep with Juliana, at the UConn party or ever.”
“But—”
“I've never even kissed her, I swear to you. And I didn't hook up with anyone at that party—just for your information.” His sentence finished with a sort of exhalation, as though it was a relief to get the words out, to set the record straight.
It was just too bad that Cady wasn't able to believe him.
“It's completely false,” Mick went on, after a moment or two passed without a response from her. “It didn't happen. All right?”
Finally, she replied. First by rolling her eyes, then by expelling a frustrated breath.
“What?” he challenged. “Cady, I'm telling you that—”
“Mick, please,” she interrupted, slanting him a frosty, censuring look. “Don't insult my intelligence.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, confused.
“Why would she make it up?” Cady asked impatiently—and more rhetorically, because what answer could Mick provide that would make plausible sense? Even if Juliana had exaggerated about how far she and Mick went, was Cady supposed to believe that they never even kissed? Come on—she invented the entire tale from scratch?
“I know why she did it,” Mick said, surprising her. He then went on to recap a conversation he'd just had with Juliana at Midnite Bakery, which absolved him of all guilt.
As Cady listened, she was torn, feeling a tightness in her chest as though her heart were literally being tugged in two different directions. On the one hand, she felt a surge of joy, wanting to believe what Mick was saying. He was giving her the perfect rationale to get back with him; this was her heart moving toward a happy place of reconciliation. One that was filled with flirtation, laughter, movie nights, and passion.
On the other hand...she heard an inner voice reminding her that where there was smoke, there was fire.
“So let me get this straight...” Cady questioned, her voice tinged with suspicion, “are you telling me that you didn't see Juliana at the UConn party?”
“No, I...I mean, I saw her, yeah,” Mick began.
“So then you blatantly lied to me when I asked you point-blank if there was anyone you knew at the party.”
Appearing remorseful, Mick sighed, “I'm sorry—I was completely wrong to do that. But—”
“But what?” Cady snapped. “I should believe you now? Why would you even lie about her being at the party in the first place?”
“Look, it was a mistake, all right? It's just that you caught me off-guard when you asked that. Initially, I was going to tell you, Cady,” Mick explained. “But then I stopped myself, because I remembered how jealous you've gotten over Juliana in the past. And I just didn't want it to turn into a drama or something.”
“Oh, so you just lie to me, instead?”
“I made a mistake,” Mick said contritely. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you that Juliana was there that night. The truth is...” Again, he sighed, more heavily this time. “I just didn't want anything to ruin the vibe we had going. Everything was going so amazing between you and me, and...”
When he let his voice trail off, Cady mentally shook herself. She had to stay focused and clearheaded. And maybe it was hopelessly cynical, but this all sounded like too neat an excuse, too convenient a story Mick had come up with—face it, things didn't quite add up. For instance:
“Okay, so Juliana just happened to be there. Are you saying that you didn't hang out with her?” Cady pressed.
Mick hesitated, before admitting, “We spoke—briefly. But no, I wouldn't say we hung out.” Cady raised her brows, waiting for more. “We said hello. You know, made small talk for, like, ten minutes. Hi, what's up, what are you doing for Thanksgiving, that kind of thing.
Period. There was nothing more to it than that, I swear, Cady.”
Hostilely, Cady crossed her arms. “Yet you never mentioned a word about it before now.”
At that, Mick rolled his eyes, arguing, “C'mon, what was to mention? It was a nothing exchange. Honestly.” When Cady doubtfully muttered an “uh-huh, sure” under her breath, Mick said, “Why don't you believe that?”
“Maybe because you ducked every question I had about the party,” Cady reminded him.
“What questions?” Mick said, getting exasperated now. “What are you talking about? All I remember you asking me was 'how was the party'—and I think I said it was fine—”
“No, no,” she burst in, “you didn't say anything! I seem to recall that anytime I tried to find out about the party, you changed the subject.”
“Huh...?”
“You were being very evasive,” Cady insisted.
“I was not being evasive, Jesus!” Mick argued, then plowed his hand through his hair. “Look, if I didn't mention anything about the party it's because it was nothing to me. All right?” he said impatiently. “It was a big over-hyped, over-crowded waste of time. We drank, we talked to a bunch of random people I'll never see again and don't give a shit about. It just wasn't interesting!”
Cady started to rise from the bench, unwilling to believe him—maybe afraid to believe him—but Mick took hold of her arm to stop her. “You're seeing sinister motives where there aren't any,” he said. “You know, it's like you don't want to believe me.”
Defensively, she yelped, “What! Why wouldn't I want to believe you?”
He shrugged. “Maybe you've got issues?” he speculated, though it sounded more like an accusation.
“No I don't,” Cady fibbed.
“Well, you're making some huge drama out of nothing,” Mick concluded.
That last line got her. Made her feel pretty idiotic. So now, despite trying to control the narrative—despite trying to hold onto a “composed maturity” (no matter how contrived)—she had instead turned into exactly what she'd been trying to avoid: an overly possessive drama queen who was in way too deep about Mick, way too early, and in his eyes, had become unhinged.