by Kyle Autumn
I chuckle as I pat his hand and get out of my chair. That’s probably all I’ll get tonight from him, and honestly, that’s all I want. So I walk out to the front desk and ask Randi for more Jell-O for my grandfather. Once I’ve said goodbye, I make my way back to my car, holding my light jacket over my head to keep from getting drenched by the rain. My breaths are shallow and quick as I wonder how the hell I’m going to pull this off.
I’m going to have to come clean—either to my grandpa or to Cadence. One will make me a jerk and one will make me sound like a creepy stalker. Either way, I can’t win. But it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have lied to him. And I shouldn’t have gotten involved with her if I didn’t want someone to get hurt.
No strings. No commitment. No chance to get hurt.
Then why does it already hurt before our agreement has ended?
∞∞∞
Cadence
Headlights shine in through my raindrop-covered front window at nine thirty at night. The second I see them, I know whose they are. And I can’t tell if my heart is in my throat and my stomach is full of butterflies because I’m excited or pissed.
This whole no-commitment thing was supposed to make things easy. Yet I’ve continually made it difficult for myself this entire time. So maybe it’s time I stop making it hard on myself. Maybe it’s time to put a pin in it for good.
Whatever my stomach is doing at the thought of that can stop. I’m done caring about the outcome. Because how dare he give his work to someone else after I tried to reach out to him. That’s the only way we know how, and I did it, thinking we’d be able to talk. So he can say whatever he has to say, and then he can go. If he doesn’t want to go to the wedding with me, then fine. I can tell my mom and my sister that we broke up. Then we won’t have to do this ridiculous song and dance anymore.
That line of thinking is squashed the moment I open the door for him. He’s a little damp from the rain, his hair a bit disheveled. His hand is in the air like he was going to knock, but I got here first. And an unhurried smile curves his lips the moment the shock wears off from my opening the door before he could knock.
Despite still getting pelted by rain, he looks…relieved to see me.
“I wasn’t sure you’d be home. Or awake,” he says over the noise of raindrops hitting the cement.
I wave him inside. Mad or not, I don’t want him to get all wet. Instead of coming in, though, he backs up a step. Then he takes another one and holds his hand out to me.
“You hurt my feelings today,” I tell him, taking the honest route for a change.
“I did?” he questions, his voice rising at the end.
I nod, still not approaching him. “Why didn’t you deliver my package?”
He drops his arm. “You hurt my feelings too.” Then he wipes his eyes to clear the rain from them.
Well, I wasn’t expecting that. I guess we’re both taking the honest route for a change.
“I really do want your phone number,” he says. “I don’t have to use it if you don’t want me to.”
“Then why do you want it so badly?” I ask, staying in my spot in the doorway.
He shakes his head and hangs it. Then he looks at me again. “I don’t know. I’m in no place to start a relationship, but I like being with you.” His eyelashes are soaked as he peers up at me through them. “Can that be enough?”
I swallow hard. Because I can’t deny that I feel the exact same way. I don’t know if it’s enough, but I sure as hell hope it can be for now. So I take a deep breath and step through my doorway, joining him in the rain. When I take his hand, he tugs me toward him. The rain seeps through my sleep clothes and falls into my eyes, but not one part of me cares. With my actions, I told the truth, and that feels wonderful. Like a breath of fresh air.
Our smiles grow together. His is nearly a mile wide while mine is still a little shy when our lips meet. But I open up fast and settle into the moment with him. It’s a frantic tangle of mouths and tongues, and after a moment, he slides his hands down my back to my butt, pressing me closer to him. Knowing he’ll catch me, I jump and wrap my legs around his waist, his strong arms holding me up.
The cold raindrops fall on our faces and slip into our mouths as we continue to kiss, and soon, we’re both soaked from head to toe. When my lips start to quiver and my teeth chatter, he backs us up toward the door. Inside, he closes the door behind us and carries me toward my bedroom. We lose clothes along the way. First, it’s his shirt. Then it’s mine.
In my bedroom, my back hits my bed as he sets me on it, and I work to undo his pants. As soon as he steps out of them, he pulls my shorts down my legs and tosses them onto his pants, our clothes in a wet puddle on the floor. Now that we’re stark naked—save for the condom he’s rolled on—we let our bodies tell the truth. If we’re not speaking, we can’t lie, and we enjoy the pounding of the rain on my roof while we become one on my bed.
It’s fast and it’s slow. It’s smooth movements and chaotic thrusts. It’s pushes and pulls, gives and takes, a tug-of-war for dominance and power. Basically, it sums us and our turbulent relationship up nicely. And it’s everything I could ever ask for in a moment like this.
We’re slick with rainwater and sweat when we both come on grunts and gasps. His sound just like my name, while mine include more of an appreciative-sounding expletive. And we stay wrapped up in each other while we come down from our highs. It’s a freeing, safe, and wild feeling, being with him this way. Giving him that part of me I would never give to someone I didn’t feel connected to.
That last thought stops me cold. I do feel connected to him. To a man whose name I don’t know. To a man who shows up in the rain and tells me the truth. To a man who’s met my family and told them the truth.
To a man who likes strawberry freaking jam on his toast.
I’ve always thought he was attractive. I’ve watched him deliver packages to my home since I moved in. And I’ve been ordering things just so I can see him for weeks now. Something is there. Something for him is there. And I can’t get enough of it.
So I lift up and kiss him on the lips, preparing myself to stay open to the truth. To the possibility that I’m in too deep already and I might have to accept that there’s more to this than I’ve wanted to admit. If he doesn’t want that too, then I’ll figure out how to move on. Just like I did last time. Even though it might be harder than it was last time. I’ll somehow manage.
He rises and sits up, taking me with him. I get comfortable in a straddle over him, and he wraps his arms around my back. So I snake mine around his neck, and when the kiss winds down, I rest my head on his shoulder.
“It’s been a long, weird day for me,” he says, drawing circles on my back. “Sorry it took so long to get here.”
“It’s okay,” I sigh into his skin.
“It’s not, but thanks for pretending,” he chuckles. Then he presses a kiss to my forehead. “I’m glad I’m here now.”
I tangle my hand in the hair at the nape of his neck. “Me too.”
With his lips still on my skin, he says, “Any chance your bath works?”
At that, I raise my head and look him dead in the eye. “A realtor with a shitty bathroom? Yeah right.” Then I unwind myself from around his body, hop off the bed, and reach a hand out for him. “Follow me.”
Chapter 14
Matt
“I have to be honest,” Cadence starts, her toes peeking out of the water for a moment. The candlelight flickers across her cheeks as she shyly eyes me over the bubbles.
My heart is in my throat as I wait for her to finish her thought from across the tub. After the mind-blowing sex we just had, I can hardly imagine what she needs to say now. I just hope it won’t burst this bubble we’re in, but if it has to, it has to.
She was right though. She has the most amazing bathroom. I shouldn’t have doubted that. I should have turned the light on the other times I’ve been in here.
She gives me a wicked smirk. “The water fe
els so good.”
I release the breath I didn’t even realize I was holding and playfully splash her a little. “I thought you were going to drop a bomb on me,” I laugh.
Then her expression goes softer, more serious. “Would that be okay? I want to tell you some things. Explain my erratic behavior.”
Slowly, I nod and rub her legs under the warm water. “Whatever you want to tell me. That’s fine.”
She closes her eyes for a few moments, and when she opens them, they’re clear and expressive. Whatever she’s about to say will be true.
“I was married before. But he wasn’t nice. Or faithful.” She absently plays with the bubbles on top of the water as she speaks. “And I lost a lot of myself in that marriage. We tried many things to make it work, but in the end, I knew I couldn’t stay. But my mother didn’t love the idea of divorce, so then our relationship was strained.”
My pulse picks up as her truth spills out of her mouth. And her story tugs at my heart. I can’t imagine the pain she went through, how lonely she felt. I never want her to feel that way again, so I wave for her to turn around and come into my arms so I can hold her while she opens up to me.
When she’s settled, she holds my arms closer to her and traces lines up and down them. “We’ve obviously worked it out, but mostly because I want to make her happy. I thought working hard at my job and setting goals in my personal life—like running a marathon soon—would please her, but she’s pushed for me to settle down again.”
“Which is why you told her about Brian,” I finish for her. Now, it all makes sense.
“Right,” she says slowly. “She asked for the name of my date to the wedding for the millionth time and I’d had enough. So I made up a name.”
I trail my fingers up and down her shins. “And I happened to accidentally tell your sister that it was me.”
Her body jerks with her small laugh. “I wonder why you were there.” Then she turns her head enough to raise an eyebrow at me.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I say, hugging her closer to me. “Maybe someone ordered a package I’d deliver at the same time she’d be on the phone with someone who needed a confirmation about when and where you’d be that night.”
Her small laugh turns into a full one, and I lean my head down to kiss her neck. All of her noises draw me to her and make me want to be near her. It’s a fucking miracle that she allows me in.
“Another confession?” she says in the form of a question. Then she rests her head against my shoulder and faces the wall. “I wasn’t on the phone with anyone.” Her hands come up to cover her face as her confession sinks in.
I blink at the back of her head. “You mean you were just baiting me?”
“Mmhm,” she hums out behind her hands. Then she lowers them a half inch and peeks over at me.
“I have never been more turned on in my fucking life,” I tell her, tightening my grip around her—before tickling her belly and sending her into a fit of laughter.
Water and bubbles splash over the edge of the tub as she spins away from my grasp, giggling the whole time. When she’s facing me again, her face is red, but embarrassed and freshly tickled is a nice shade on her.
“I’m sorry,” she says when she’s calmed down, her lips still stretched into a grin. “I shouldn’t have done that.
“Oh, you absolutely should have,” I tell her. “It worked, didn’t it?”
She looks thoughtful for a minute. “Yeah, but it was yet another lie.”
That thought has me running through the long list of lies I’ve told. Maybe not to her, but she’s a part of them nonetheless. To my grandpa. To Aidan. Even to Joyce.
“You’re not the only guilty one,” I confess.
“Oh?” One of her eyebrows rises. “Do tell,” she requests as she settles her back against the tub.
I sift through the list, wondering which one to tell her first. “Let’s see.” I tap on my lip. Then I point that finger to the ceiling. “Ahh, there’s the one where I may have stretched the truth about us to my ex-girlfriend.”
“Tried to make her jealous?” she playfully asks.
I cut my gaze to the door of the bathroom as I think that one through. Resting my arm on the side of the tub, I say, “Not exactly. We’ve been over for a while. But she told me that I seemed happier, and she assumed it was because of a woman. So I didn’t tell her otherwise.” I tilt my head from side to side, pondering that. “I guess that wasn’t a lie, but I didn’t correct her.”
She shrugs. “Eh,” she singsongs. “That’s not so bad. At least you’re not a fake-call weirdo like I am.”
My lips thin as I swallow hard. I’m sure fear or embarrassment or you’re totally wrong about that is written all over my face. Maybe a combination of all three. Because I’m worse than a fake-call weirdo. And she may jump straight out of the tub and demand I leave after I tell her this doozy of a lie I’ve been telling.
“So you are a fake-call weirdo like I am?” she hedges, looking amused.
“Worse,” I confirm. “I don’t even want to tell you.” Then I break out into a nervous laugh. The whole thing is so fucking ridiculous. “And I wouldn’t have done it if I’d thought we’d ever meet and do”—I gesture back and forth between us—“whatever we’re doing. But I did.”
“Oh god.” Her eyes go wide, but her mouth stays curved upward. “This is gonna be good,” she snarks, settling in for a good story.
Meanwhile, my stomach knots up at the thought of telling her. She may expect something harmless, but this is creepy and weird. She’s been honest with me though, so I should tell her. Give that honesty right back to her.
Here goes nothing.
I close my eyes and let it fall out of my mouth. “My grandpa kinda thinks we’ve been dating for the last year.”
My words are met by absolute silence. Deathly still silence. It’s killing me not to know how she’s reacting, but I get to keep her a second or so longer if I don’t look.
But I have to know. So I crack my eyes open, and what I see downright astounds me.
∞∞∞
Cadence
I laugh so hard that water splashes over the edge of the tub as my body quakes harder and harder. No freaking way. We’ve both been lying to our families? About each other? Ha!
I can’t stop laughing. Like, I might throw up in a minute from the exertion in my core. But, finally, I sigh and lean my head against the back of the tub, staring at the ceiling.
“What’s so fucking funny?” he says, humor in his tone. Then he splashes me again. “I thought you were going to be furious or make me leave the house without drying off or getting dressed.”
I bring my head down to look at him, still smiling. “Really?”
“Yeah.” He wipes some water off his forehead with the back of his hand. “I was envisioning getting to work tomorrow and finding out that you’ve requested to have me removed from your route.”
Another sigh leaves my lips, this one long and loud. “Ah, no. That won’t happen. Because look. We both did the same thing. It’s kind of funny, really.” Then a giggle bubbles out of my mouth, and I bring a hand up to cover it.
He has humor in his eyes, but I also see fear. “Uh, no. What we did was not the same. I lied to my grandfather for a year. Specifically about you.” He points a finger at me. “I gave him your name and everything.”
“And that’s exactly what I did. Maybe not for a year,” I clarify, holding my hands out of the water, “but I still lied to them specifically about you.”
“No,” he interjects, wrapping his arms around the edges of the tub. While lifting one finger, he says, “You lied about someone named Brian.”
“Which, in my head…” I dip my head, not wanting to say this part out loud. But I have to, seeing as he’s not understanding where I’m going with this. “He was you.”
He opens his mouth to speak but sucks in air and then closes his lips, cocking his head to the side. Finally, he says, “I was always Brian? The whole ti
me?”
Looking up at him through my damp lashes, I nod slowly. “Mmhm.”
Now, it’s his turn to bust out into laughter. “Seriously? You’re as creepy as I am.”
“Hey! It’s a good thing,” I insist, splashing him with water this time. “Now, we have more in common than we thought.”
Before I can pull my hand back, he snags it and tugs me over to him. I go willingly, happy to curl up with him in the cooling water. The bubbles are just about gone, but that doesn’t matter. I could stay here with him forever.
“We have more in common too,” he says, rubbing my back and smoothing my hair down.
I lean back to look him in the eyes. “Do you secretly really like grape jelly like a normal person?” A grin snakes across my lips, but it dies down when he doesn’t fully join in.
The grin on his mouth is sad. Almost curving down at the edges. “No. Sorry to disappoint, but that’s not it.”
I run a hand through his wet hair. “You can tell me whatever it is,” I say, being serious with him now. “I’m enjoying the honesty.”
“Me too,” he tells me, that sad smile still in place. Then he takes a deep breath. “No, it’s that my ex wasn’t very good to me, either.”
“Oh, was she a cheating liar who gave you no affection too?” I deadpan.
The sadness on his lips morphs straight into anger before he smooths it out a little. “He was that bad to you?” he asks, tucking hair behind my ears.
Unintentionally, I move away from his touch. “That’s over now, so it doesn’t mat—”
“Of course it matters,” he insists, fury at my past in his intense eyes. “You shouldn’t ever be treated like that. No one should be allowed to treat you like that.”
I dare to hold his gaze as I hesitantly ask, “Does that mean you won’t?”
Not as hesitantly, he cups my cheek with one hand and holds me around my back with the other, pressing our chests together. With his lips a breath away from mine, he makes me a promise. “Never. I’d never do that to you.”
