“I mean it, Cadence! I take my soundtrack seriously!”
“You have songs for me?”
“Yes, and if you’ll be a little patient, I’ll share them with you. Jeez.” Mark hung his head.
“Look at me,” I ordered.
He lifted his face to mine, and I saw his flushed cheeks for the first time. I made him blush.
“Will you share one? Just one?”
He thought for a moment. “Okay. You’ve listened to all of Entroducing… by now, right?”
I nodded.
“Okay, well the first time I realized how much I had to lose in pursuing you, I put ‘Building Steam with a Grain of Salt’ on repeat and listened to that for a while. I needed something intense to help me sort through my feelings for you and what I was gonna do.”
Instant surge of sexual feelings.
“I thought maybe the song would help. But it really didn’t. Just made me more nervous.”
I giggled.
“What? You think it’s funny that I felt nervous around you?”
“You never showed it,” I said.
“Well, I do a pretty good job of masking my feelings,” Mark admitted. “But my heart was pounding.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re beautiful.”
“I’m average.”
“You’re so much more than average, Cadence. You’re out of this world.”
I shrugged.
“I’ve got a song for that, too, but you’ll have to wait for it.”
“Not fair! Tell me now,” I demanded.
“Nope.”
I pinched his cheek. Not hard. Just one of those “you’re really adorable” pinches.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about this and just wanna say it,” I began. “I don’t think you’re a sexual predator,” I said.
“Good to know,” Mark replied. “Because I’m not.”
“I know. I did my research on the laws. Since you didn’t explain them to me the last time.”
Mark furrowed his brows. “Oh yeah?”
“I looked up the age of consent in Georgia. It’s sixteen,” I replied.
Mark cleared his throat. “I’m not having sex with you until you’re eighteen. I don’t care what the age of consent is.”
“So you think you’re doing something wrong,” I said.
“No, I don’t.”
“Then what does it matter that I’m seventeen or eighteen?”
“What matters is that you’re not ready. Just a minute ago you were freaking out about oral sex. And why are we back to this anyway?”
I hung my head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I mentioned anything about sex. It’s just all I can think about,” I admitted.
“You don’t need to think about it. And why would you be afraid I’d want to make love to you so soon? I don’t even know your middle name,” Mark replied.
“Brynn,” I said automatically. I wasn’t thinking about my middle name; I was thinking about Mark using the term “make love” in place of “sex.” I warmed all over.
“Brynn. Hmm, I like that. Now, are your legs sore yet?”
I’d been straddling him the entire time. Once my brain registered this, my legs began aching painfully.
“Yes.” I climbed off Mark’s lap and sat beside him, sliding my sandals off and pulling my knees up to my chest. “Why did you go to school for math?”
“I didn’t.”
“I’m confused.”
“I have a masters in English.”
“Then why are you teaching math?”
“Because I’m good at math, and I minored in it as an undergrad. And finding a job teaching math was a lot easier.”
I thought for a moment. “Normally people are good at one or the other.”
“I guess I’m blessed.”
“Are you a Christian?” I asked.
He laughed. “Why? Because I said I’m blessed?”
I nodded.
“No, Cadence.”
I thought I should leave. Everything I learned in youth group taught me never to date a nonbeliever. It was a top rule as a Christian. I didn’t remember a rule against having an affair with a teacher, but the non-Christian thing was a definite no-no.
“What are you thinking?” Mark asked.
Like I was going to tell him what I was thinking.
“Do you wanna teach math forever?” I asked instead.
“Yeah. But not at the high school level.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m saving up to go back to school,” he explained.
“For what?”
“A doctorate in math at Georgia Tech.”
I nodded. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t really understand anything about doctoral programs. I assumed they made you a doctor of something. In any case, I didn’t want to come across as a complete moron or highlight our age gap.
“I wanna teach at the university level,” Mark said.
“Oh. I guess college students aren’t so annoying, huh?”
Mark chuckled. “It’s really just because I like college material better.”
“Why?”
“I’m kind of tired of talking about myself.”
“Impossible. Men love to talk about themselves,” I countered.
“Have you been reading your Marie Claire lately?” he asked.
I laughed. “That’s cute.”
“You’re cute,” he said, and leaned over to kiss me once more.
This time I forced my tongue into his mouth, and I think it shocked and delighted him. In fact, he sat back and let me do all the work. I didn’t mind. For some reason I thought I had something to prove to him.
“Do that thing again,” he said between kisses.
“What thing?” I breathed.
“Licking my lip. I liked that,” he said.
I smiled, satisfied, drawing away from him and cocking my head in a challenge.
“No.”
He considered me for a moment. “Yes.”
I shook my head, grinning demurely.
He leaned over, pushing me down into the couch cushions, and kissed me tenderly.
“I like this innocent, teasing, flirty thing you’ve got going on,” he said. “And I’ll let you play like that for awhile.” He trailed kisses over my cheek to my neck, sucking gently before sinking his teeth into my skin. I whimpered and arched my body up to his. “But only for a little while.” I shuddered.