He squeezed me lightly.
“But doesn’t it make you nervous? Waiting to hear me say it back?” I asked.
“No. It’s not conditional. I don’t love you because you love me. I love you because I love you.”
Well, that made sense. And it filled me with happiness. I thought I could never be happy. I remember thinking it at the beginning of the school year, but now everything had changed. I was happy. Finally happy.
“I—”
“Don’t you dare say it,” Mark warned.
I looked at him and saw his grin.
“Why not?”
“Because you’re not ready. And you’d only be saying it because I did.”
I smiled. “Would not.”
“I mean it, Cadence.”
“But I—”
“Don’t you do it!” he said, lifting me off the floor. I wrapped my legs around him.
“Mark! I’m allowed to say it if it’s true!” I argued.
“I’m not convinced of your motivations,” he replied, setting me on the kitchen counter. He stood between my legs, holding my hips.
“I don’t have any motivations except to tell you what’s true.”
“Cadence . . .”
“I love you!” I blurted before he could interrupt me.
Mark sighed, then let his mouth settle into a wicked little grin. “Well, that does it.” He tossed me over his shoulder and walked to the bedroom. I squealed the whole time, smacking his bottom until I felt myself fall backwards onto his bed.
“I warned you.”
I giggled and squirmed when I felt his hands go to the button on my jeans.
“You’ll never be able to get them off,” I laughed. “They’re skinny jeans.”
“Oh, you underestimate me,” Mark replied. “If I want in, I’m getting in.”
I twisted my hips halfheartedly in an attempt to pretend I was putting up a fight. I liked the playful struggle, and it seemed to fuel his need for my body. The truth was that he couldn’t get my jeans off fast enough.
“God, are these things painted on or something?” he said, yanking and tugging.
“Stop!” I cried. “Are you trying to bruise me?” I slapped his hands away and wriggled out of the jeans. He watched in fascination.
“I don’t know how you girls do it, but it’s fantastic,” he said when I was lying once more on his bed in only my panties and top. He climbed on top of me and looked down at my face. “Now, here are all the things I plan to do to you.”
I closed my eyes.
“Nope,” he said. “Open your eyes and look at me.”
I obeyed.
“First, I’m gonna slide your panties down your legs.”
I turned my face.
“Cadence, look at me.”
“I can’t. It’s embarrassing! Just do it. Don’t tell me first!”
He placed his hands on either side of my face and gently turned me to look at him once more.
“You’re very impatient.”
I took a deep breath and waited.
“Next, I’m gonna slide my hand between your legs and play with you.”
My breathing came a little faster.
“What do you think about that?”
I nodded.
“Would you like me to slide my finger in your *?”
“Mark!”
“Or maybe you want me to rub your little clit. I know you really like that.”
“Stop it!”
“Stop what? Stop telling you what I plan to do to you? Why are you embarrassed?”
“I don’t know,” I managed, feeling the heat of embarrassment burn my skin and throb between my legs.
“I just wanna get you wet, Cadence,” Mark continued. “For what I plan next.”
“Oh?”
“Well, did you think I wouldn’t put my mouth on you? How could I not? You have, hands down, the sweetest little * on the planet.”
“Oh my God . . .”
“And I’m gonna bury my face in it.”
“Jesus Christ . . .” And I never say “Jesus Christ.”
“No, Cadence. My name is Mark Connelly. And I’m about to give you the most explosive orgasm of your life.”
And holy shit, he did.
***
I remember very little from my birthday dinner. I know the restaurant was nice. The atmosphere was cozy. I remember being slightly nervous initially to go out in public. The club was different. I wasn’t afraid I’d run into church members there. But dinner? It didn’t matter that it was at a restaurant an hour from home. I was on edge. And I remember Mark telling me a dozen times to relax.
Relax. I kept repeating the word over and over throughout dinner. And dessert. And on the car ride back to Mark’s apartment. And in his bedroom when he told me he wanted to undress me and make love to me.
“But if you’re not ready, Cadence, it’s okay,” he said. I was clad in only my bra and panties, and he was on his knees in front of me, face buried in my stomach, inhaling my scent.
“I’m ready,” I replied. My voice didn’t shake a bit. I sounded quite confident for a girl who had a trillion questions running through her head.
“But?”
Okay. Apparently I didn’t sound that confident. Apparently I sounded like I had a trillion questions running through my head.
“I know it’ll hurt, but will it hurt really badly?” I decided to start with the scariest.
“Really badly? I don’t know. But I know it hurts,” Mark replied.
“Will you use a condom?”
“Yes.”
“If I were on birth control, would you use a condom?”
Mark hesitated for a moment. “Are you on birth control?”
“No.”
“Then what does it matter?”
“But would you if I were?”
“I would let you decide.”
“Do you have any diseases?”
Mark looked up at my face and smiled. “No, Cadence.”
“Have you been checked for diseases?”
“Yes, Cadence.”
“When?”
“Five years ago.”
“That’s a long time,” I said.
“I know. But I was with one partner when I got checked. And only her since then.”
“Just one?”
“Just one.”
“Was she nice?” What a stupid question. I don’t even know where it came from. I think I was becoming increasingly nervous and needed to keep talking to keep my heart rate down.
Mark’s face clouded over. “Yes,” he whispered into my belly.