Better (Too Good series) (17 page)


You have no idea the things I learn from you. It’s constant. Every day. How to love better. Being more open-minded about certain things.”

“Certain things like what?”

“Your taste in books, for one.”

“Go on.”

“Well, I prefer darker literature. I like dystopian reads. But I pulled one of yours the other day and have been reading it between my classes.”

Cadence grinned. “Which one?”


The Magic of Ordinary Days
,” he replied.

She smacked his arm. “Get out! That’s, like, a total chick book!”

“I know. But I saw you reading it a few weeks ago and thought I’d give it a try. Only fair. I make you listen to my music.”

“What do you think about the book?”

“I think—” He paused, deciding how best to say it. “—it’s very fitting for what’s going on in your life right now. Did you read it on purpose?”

She nodded.

“That’s what I love so much about you,” Mark said. “Everything you do is thoughtful. Because I think you’re just one of those people who constantly yearns for understanding, and you’ll keep seeking it until you find it. You do that with your books. You do that with the people you surround yourself with. You’re a lifelong learner, I’d say.”

“There’s a lot to discover.”

He laughed. “Isn’t that the truth.”

“Are you still reading the book?” she asked.

“I’m almost finished. And it’s really good.”

“Thanks for doing that,” Cadence said.

“Oh, I plan to try out your flat iron next.”

She burst into a fit of giggles.

“No?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t advise it.”

He put his arm around her.

“I wanna try out my new birth control,” Cadence said suddenly.

“Oh yeah?”

“I went to the university clinic at the beginning of this week. I decided to go on birth control,” she said
, playing with his fingers.

“Any particular reason why?” He suppressed the urge to yank his hand away. She was tickling him.

“I’m tired of condoms. They’re, like, for people who have promiscuous sex.”

He laughed. “That, or people who wanna play it safe.”

“I think they’re gross.”

He refrained from reminding her about the semen that ran from her body in
the secrecy of his classroom closet. When they didn’t use a condom.

“Should I have discussed this with you first?” Cadence asked.

“No. It’s your body,” Mark said.

“Well, you use it.”

He laughed hard. “You bet I do.”

He grabbed her hand and hoisted her up. He ignored the little voice going off i
n the back of his head saying, “Andy used birth control and look what happened?” He didn’t want to hear it, mostly because he wanted to recapture that feeling of making love to Cadence without a condom as a barrier. Yeah, it was a thin barrier, but a barrier nonetheless. He wanted total physical connection, so he smothered the voice with his own: “Birth control is 99.9 percent effective.”

Cadence grinned. “Um. Yes it is.”

“Did I just say that out loud?” Mark asked.

She
giggled. “Yep.”

Mark shook his head and led her to the bedroom.

“We won’t have a repeat of earlier this year,” Cadence said reassuringly. “But if by some freak accident we do, you’re not allowed to break up with me.”

He scooped her up and tossed her on the bed. She squealed.

“Oh, I’m not letting you go anywhere,” he said, eyeing her like a delicious dinner. He was suddenly ravenous. “I wonder what you taste like today, Cadence.”

She blushed. “What do you mean?”

He climbed on top of her and slipped his hand between her legs. “You always taste like what you’ve recently eaten.”

“What?!”

“You do.”

“Oh my God!” She buried her face in her hands.

“Why’s that embarrassing? I love it. It’s like a game. Figure out what Cadence had for lunch.”

She laughed in her hands.

“May I?”

She spread her fingers and pee
ked at him through the cracks.

“So what do you get if you win?” she asked.

“A tasty meal.”

“Mark!”

“Mark!” he mocked, then kissed her hands. “I can’t wait to hear that when I’m seventy. ‘Mark’!”

She dropped her hands. “You think we’ll still be doing this at seventy?”

They stared at each other, grimacing.

“And there goes my hard-on,” he said. He rolled them over, securing his arms tightly around her back.

“You won’t find me sexy at seventy?” she asked.

“You’ll be sexy forever. Me, on the other hand? First off, I’
ll be eighty. Second, that’s old as dirt. Third—”

“You’ll be young forever,” she interrupted. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Yeah, but the idea of a wrinkly old penis . . .”

“Mark!!” Cadence buried her face in his shoulder and laughed hysterically.

“I’m just sayin’.”

“Don’t!” she cried. “Don’t say another word!”

“This sex is ruined, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Totally.”

“Hmm.”

They were silent for a time. Mark rubbed Cadence’s back while she nuzzled his neck.

“Wanna play Mario Kart?” he asked.

“Sure.”

He’d find out what she ate later.

He felt reckless, but he didn’t care. She was a magnet, and her pull was stronger than gravity. He was certain of it because he walked towards her against his will. He had no control over it. One foot in front of the other. Right. Left. Maybe she wasn’t a magnet. Maybe she was a little witch, and she’d cast a spell on him, forcing his compliance though he was conscious of the dangers. She’d destroy him, and he thought he wouldn’t mind.

Turn around!
his brain cried, but he ignored it and placed his lunch bag on the table.

He watched her in his periphery. She stiffened in her chair, and he thought she already knew. That quickly. Damn. Women were perceptible.

He chatted pleasantly with two other students before addressing Cadence. He wouldn’t ignore her. She was, after all, the sole reason he sat at this particular lunch table.

“Hi, Cadence.”

She jumped in her seat. “Hey.”

“You doing all right?” he asked. He decided to have a little fun with her. She was obviously flustered. He wanted to remind her that she was the one who compelled him to take a seat beside her. Remember that spell you cast, he wanted to say?

“Just fine,” she replied. She twirled her fork in her mashed potatoes.

“Not hungry?”

She tipped the bowl and looked straight at him. “Does this look appetizing to you?”

Not in the least
, he thought.
But you sure as hell do
.

“Not so much,” he said instead. “You wanna split my sandwich?”

Was that a ridiculous suggestion? He thought it must have been because she looked put out. Not offended or disgusted. Just put out.

She shook her head.

“You probably need to eat something. Helps the brain work better. Plus, you’re really tiny,” he said.

Her eyes went wide, and he suppressed a grin.

“Are you taking good care of my handkerchief?” he asked.

She glared at him, and this time he let the grin creep over his lips. He imagined she caught on to his game by now. He wanted her to. He knew it was unwise to tease her so soon. He felt the vulnerability radiating from her tiny frame. He wasn’t trying to take a
dvantage of it. She was just so damn cute. Couldn’t she understand by now that he wanted her to have his handkerchief forever?

“Can I give it back to you now
?” she asked, and his heart sank.

“No, I was just asking if you’re taking care of it,” he replied. He needed her to. It was a substitute for his heart. Yeah. He’d already given his heart to this girl. He couldn’t m
ake sense of it, and he quit trying. It wasn’t love yet. He wasn’t that foolish. But he wanted to nurture his blossoming attraction, and he wanted her to as well.

“It’s in my pocket,” she said.

“Good.” He liked that idea—that she carried it around with her. If she would have said, “It’s in my locker,” he would have been disappointed.

Her agitation grew until she finally blurted, “Why are you sitting here?”

He had to swallow his instant thought:
Because of you.
My God, did he have no control?

He gave her a safe answer instead, listened as she offended the other students at the table, then watched her stomp off towards the cafeteria doors.
Little brat
, he thought, though he knew he instigated her anger. He played a mean game, and he wasn’t sorry for it. She stomped off for now, but he’d see her again. And again and again. She was going to be his girlfriend. And he was going to make her love him.

***

“Avery’s spending the night with Marybeth,” Cadence said, trying hard not to laugh.

“Marybeth?” Mark asked.

“I couldn’t resist,” Cadence said. “It’s the most virginal, sweet, Christian-sounding name I’ve ever heard, so I chose it for Avery’s campus friend.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “The Campus Crusade for Christ friend?”

“Mmhmm,” Avery replied. She pulled up “Marybeth’s” contact info on her phone and showed Mark.

He leaned in to take a look at Cadence’s number. “Clever.”

“We know,” Avery replied. She paused for a second. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Connelly.”

“That’s cute. Call me Mark.”

“Hmm. No, I think I’m gonna call you Mr. Connelly for a while.”

The girls giggled.

Mark pushed a hand through his hair. “Do I need to go somewhere else?”

“No,” the girls said in unison.

“Fine. I’m calling Dylan.”

“Who’s Dylan?” Avery asked, watching Mark walk to the bedroom.

“Mark’s friend. The guy who owns the record store.”

“Ohhh. Is he cute?”

“He’s cute. He’s dating a witch, though. So I don’t know what that says about his intelligence.”

“Nothing wrong with a good witch,” Avery said.

“She’s not a good witch. She’s just a witch.”


Hmm. Well, good witch bad bitch—”

“Witch,” Cadence corrected, then
smirked.

“That’s what I said. Bitch. Anyway, I don’t care if he’s a retard
,” Avery said. “So long as he’s freaking hot.”

Cadence smiled patiently.

“You think he’ll come over?”

“Don’t get any ideas,” Cadence warned. She flipped the page of her magazine.

“Ideas? What ideas? I don’t have any ideas,” Avery argued.

Cadence stared at her.

“I’m freaking horny, okay! I haven’t been laid in months! Can’t I just have someone cute to look at and fantasize about?”

“But won’t that make it worse?” Cadence asked.

“Yeah, but I don’t care. I need a guy, Cadence. Okay? I need a guy to flirt with me and then ravage me.”

“He’s got a girlfriend.”

“I’ll take care of that.”

“Oh
, Lordy.”

“Show me a little bit of kindness, all right?
I’m desperate over here. Hello? Song of Solomon, anyone?”

Cadence c
losed her magazine. “Wanna paint our nails?”

“No
, I don’t wanna paint my nails! I wanna fuck! I just wanna get fucked really hard!”

Mark cleared his throat.

Avery whipped her head around. “Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah, so I’m gonna go to the store for beer. That’s the only way I could get Dylan to come over.”

“Will you get us something?” Avery asked.

“No.”

She folded her arms over her chest and screwed up her face.

“He’s not bringing her, is he?” Cadence asked.

“Who? Portia?”

Cadence nodded.

“He broke up with her a week ago or something,” Mark replied.

Avery
sat folded up on the couch sporting a sour expression, but inside . . . oh,
inside
her heart was glowing! Pulsating, actually, with hope. She felt the pulsing move from her chest to her inner thighs and squeezed her legs tight.

“Bye bye, Mr. Connelly,” she said, trying to push him out the door so she could squeal to Cadence.

Mark opened his mouth to reply, but he had nothing to say. He winked at Cadence then left. She knew what the wink signaled. He knew what Avery was up to, and he also knew she wouldn’t have a chance with Dylan.

H
e had no idea how wrong he was.

All four sat at the dining room table holding cards and placing bids. Avery glanced every now and then over the tops of her cards at Dylan, who sat directly across from her. They were playing Spades, and she was on Mark’s team. Dylan had this weird rule about card playing: couples couldn’t be partners, so Mark was
reluctantly paired with Avery while Cadence teamed up with Dylan.

Dylan
grinned at Avery, then took a swig of his beer. Cadence watched with amusement. Mark was skeptical of his friend’s intentions. He wouldn’t necessarily call Dylan a player though he went through women like tissues. It was really that no one could meet his ridiculously high standards. Or maybe that was just his excuse to stay uncommitted. He didn’t sleep with all of them. He didn’t sleep with many of them, actually, because they didn’t meet his standards. And he was terrified of STDs.

Mark chuckled.

“What’s funny?” Avery asked. “Please don’t tell me your hand sucks.”

He shook his head. “Nah. We’re winning this round. Just follow my lead.”

“You’re such a cocky asshole when you play cards,” Dylan piped up. “And you’re not even good at it.”

Cadence giggled.

“Mr. Connelly, maybe since I’m spending the night, you can let Cadence and me drink a little.” Avery smiled sweetly.

“Keep calling me ‘Mr. Connelly’ and you can forget about it,” he replied.

“What?” she cried indignantly. “It’s funny. And anyway, you were a teacher at my school. I can’t just call you by your first name. That’s, like, totally disrespectful.”

“I call him by his first name,” Cadence pointed out.

“You’re also fucking him,” Avery said.

“Oh my God, Avery!” Cadence cried.

“What? Just sayin’,” Avery huffed. She winked at Dylan who burst out laughing.

Mark sighed patiently. “Avery, play a card.”

“Oh, it’s my turn?” she asked, reaching for Dylan’s beer. She took a swig and threw down an eight of clubs. “You don’t mind sharing, do you?”

Dylan shook his head.
“All yours.”

The double entendre
wasn’t lost on Cadence or Mark. They eyed each other, passing the unspoken message, “What do we do now?”

“Do you like your job, Dylan?” Avery asked.

“Of course I do. I own my own business. I’m my own boss,” he said. He breathed in deeply, letting his chest swell, making sure she could see.

Oh, she saw
, and she flirted back by biting into her lower lip, pretending that she was concentrating on her next play.

She pouted when Dylan trumped her king of hearts.

“Nothing personal, babe,” he said, pulling the cards towards him.

She finished off his beer. “I’ll get you the next time.”

“Dear God,” Cadence mumbled. “Just get it over with already. But not in our room. Go to the guestroom.”

Avery burst out laughing.

“Cadence!” Mark said.

“Have you not been listening to this conversation?” she asked him.

He opened his mouth to reply when Cadence’s phone rang. Avery’s house phone number showed up.

“Avery! What am I supposed to do
?!” Cadence cried.

“Answer it and a
ct like Marybeth.”

“I can’t do that! You know I can’t! I’ll ruin all of it!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! Give it to me,” Avery snapped, grabbing Cadence’s cell phone.

“Don’t! Oh my God, just don’t!”

“I’ll take it from here,” Dylan said, calmly plucking the phone from Avery’s hand. He placed his finger over his mouth and pressed the answer key. “This is Marybeth’s phone. May I ask who’s calling?”

Cadence and Avery held their breath.

“This is her father, actually. She left her cell phone downstairs. The girls are upstairs watching a movie. Uh huh. Oh, yes. Hello, Mrs. Fisher. Marybeth told me about you . . .”

Mark listened, intrigued.

“. . . She’s a lovely girl. Mmhmm . . .”

Dylan chuckled
at something Mrs. Fisher said. It was so insincere that Avery had to slap her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.

“. . . I hear you on that one!” Dylan said. “It’s hard to find good influences these days . . .”

Mark rolled his eyes.


. . . Well, I’m glad you called to check up on her. Sounds great. Okay. Have a splendid night, Mrs. Fisher.”

Dylan hung up and tossed the phone to Cadence.

“Done,” he said. “Who wants another beer?”

Avery stared at him with newfound respect. “Me,” she breathed. “I’d like another.”

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