“Shit.” Cade wraps his arms around me, dotting a string of soft kisses up around my ear before pulling back. “I take it that explains why you’re so gun-shy around Buddy.”
“Oh, it’s not just Buddy. I tend to stay away from all of that furry kind. Became a cat person on that very day.” I try to lighten the mood. Each and every time I relay that information, I can’t help but feel like a killjoy, and that’s the very reason I’ve only told a handful of people.
“It’s not a big deal, really.” I blink back the tears blurring my vision. “I don’t want to talk about it anyway. Hey, isn’t that movie about to start?” Good God, look at me cheering on the exact activity I dread to do.
Cade starts up the car and drives us over to the Cineplex where we get out and hold hands like any ordinary couple. I don’t see a soul I recognize from Whitney Briggs. It’s as if we’ve landed somewhere else on the planet entirely.
Cade and I watch some shoot ’em up action flick, and I let him hold me, openly thread our fingers together, and finally lock my lips right there in the theater. One thing is for sure, I can’t get enough of this boy.
Once he finds his unicorn and trots off into the sunset, I’ll be left with a scar on my heart far more deforming than the one on my face. Yes, this will end badly I predict.
I snuggle deeper into his arms as the movie drones on.
It’s moments like these that will make a bad ending to our story worth its heartbreaking while.
To all of the unassuming people around us, we must look like a regular couple. We feel like a couple. A few more steps in the right direction, and, for all practical purposes, we will be. But the proverbial boat is rocking. My gut says jump overboard while you have the chance and swim to safety. If I stick around too long, I might just go under.
Who am I kidding? Cade James dragged me under a long time ago.
Once the movie is over, we head through the lobby, hand-in-hand, swinging away as if we hadn’t a care in the world, and then just like that, Cade freezes. His feet stop moving, his eyes stare straight ahead, stony and serious. Before I can try to catch a glimpse at whatever it is that’s captured his attention, he spins us around and starts striding in the opposite direction at an impossibly quick clip.
“What’s up, sweetie? You look like you’ve seen the Grim Reaper holding up a sign with your name on it.” Something tells me he wouldn’t be this afraid of crossing over to the other side. Nope, whatever has Cade spooked is something that very much anchors him to the here and now.
“It’s nothing. I just thought we should get home.” His entire body sighs with relief once we hit the cool night air. “You ready to put that leash to good use?”
“Oh, hon, I have a few tricks up my sleeve that will make the things I’ve done to you so far seem like child’s play.” I glance back at the movie theater with a mob of bodies bleeding out of every orifice and wonder exactly who it is Cade is running from. Then it hits me. Cade isn’t running from anyone on his own. It’s me he doesn’t want to show off. God, what if there’s a girlfriend? No way. I’ve been over way too much, and this boy is giving all he’s got.
I suck in a hard breath. Unless she’s not a Whitney Briggs! What if he’s involved in some long distance thing? Come morning, I’ll make Piper sing like a bird. I’ll find some way to wrangle her big bro into a conversation, and she’ll happily give me all the dirty deets.
Cade speeds us to his little cozy home and zips around to the passenger’s side of the car to help me out.
“Such a gentleman.” I lean up and take a moist bite of his lower lip. “Feel free to act like a beast as soon as we step through that door—all bark and all bite.”
“Duly noted. And speaking of beasts, I’d better let Buddy outside to take care of business.” He lets us in and turns on the lights. It feels comfortable here, with his manly looking furniture, the large TV framing the wall looks like an old friend, even the slight hint of his cologne lingering in the air makes this place feel a lot like my second home.
“I’ll just be a minute.”
I make a dash for the sofa and watch as he leads an anxious, bucking, jumping, thankfully leashed, Buddy right out the door.
He probably thinks it’s silly of me—a grown woman—to be so afraid of a hairy, not-so scary pooch. I don’t remember a single one of those dogs that used me as a chew toy having such long fur. In my mind’s eye, I can see still the charge, their rolled and wrinkled brown flesh, those pink and black mouths, those sharp as spears canines salivating with greed for me. My chest bucks, and for a minute, I think I’m going to lose it.
I head on out to the porch for a breath of fresh night air and spot Cade down by the sidewalk, an empty leash in hand. For a second, I think he’s lost Buddy.
A gray and brown brindled blur zips past his legs, and Cade turns and hooks his gaze to mine, his eyes growing round with horror.