Page 22 of Cade

“You, uh... you don’t have to do that,” Cade said sweetly as he ran a hand through his hair.

“And why not?” I asked, confused once more. This man was sending me very mixed signals. I looked at him, puzzled.

“I know I wasn’t exactly the most, um... I mean, I kind of—”

“If this is about what happened between us, I can assure you I’m not offering to grab you food just because we had sex,” I insisted.

It was true. Granted, I wanted to have a repeat of the other night, but this moment wasn’t about that. I didn’t feel an obligation to buy this man lunch just because we’d had a steamy roll in the hay. I wanted to buy this man lunch because ever since I couldn’t get him out of my head, and I wanted to know more about the man who had vexed me so.

Though to be fair, it would have been something I would have done in the past to placate those I once shared my bed with—the polo riders or the designers and artists who’d often wanted to be spoiled even if it was for a night only, purely because they knew I had the means to do so and that was my reputation back home. As if there was something wrong with wanting someone to spoil, hoping that if I threw enough money or gifts around, maybe, just maybe one of them would want to stay with me.

Somehow, as Cade’s words fell over me, I knew this was different, though I couldn’t explain why or how I knew. It wasn’t about the sex, not really. I genuinely felt a need, a desire to take care of this man, this adorable, blue-eyed darling who was almost as skittish as a mouse.

To... comfort him.

I wanted to make Cade feel better, wanted to see a legitimate smile on his beautiful face.

What was the harm in that?

However well meaning I’d been, Cade’s shoulders tightened at my words.

How could I make this man understand, I was only trying to help?

To reassure him one thing did not equal another?

I could separate a man from his dick, even if I didn’t do it often.

“I mean, we were both sort of drunk, and it was great, but... One thing doesn’t have anything to do with the other, I promise,” I said, trying my best to comfort him even though I was not good at such a thing.

“Oh,” Cade said, his voice getting a tad quieter.

“Tell you what,” I said, not liking the strange tension that had befallen us, “You stay here, and I will hunt you... er... us... down something fried and sweet, and we can put this whole... debacle behind us. Start fresh.” I pushed away from the table lightly, capturing his weary gaze.

Cade looked up at me, his blue eyes searching mine for something I was not sure of.

Answers maybe?

“Yeah, sure,” Cade said, but his smile did not reach his eyes, and as I wandered off in search of sustenance, only to be pulled away once more by the inevitable devil that awaited me—my father—I hoped I would find a way to make things up to Cade.

CHAPTER 14

Cade

I stepped through the front door, nearly exhausted from the events of the last twenty-four hours.

I wasn’t sure why I expected Weston to come back with anything. After all, I knew assholes like Weston Rhodes didn’t really do the ‘nice guy’ thing. They didn’t treat you to a smorgasbord of breakfast or buy you coffee just because they wanted to talk to you or enjoy your company.

Which makes him no different than any other asshole you’ve gotten your hopes up for.

I nonchalantly tossed my keys in the bowl by the door after locking it, the silence of my humble abode thick and disheartening. The lights came on of their own accord, and it was all I could do to stand there and think that maybe this was as good as it would get. Maybe I truly was meant to be a small town man, living a small town life in my quiet, quaint house, eating rocky road ice cream on the couch forever whilst watching reruns of my favorite shows.

As if perfectly on cue, my stomach grumbled once more, and I tossed the box of pizza I had picked up at Jasper Springs Pizza on the way home on the counter. Popping the lid, the scent of salty pepperoni and sweet tomato sauce filled my senses, making my mouth water. I set about to finding myself a plate, a glass of lime seltzer soda, and of course, a pint of ice cream.

I kicked off my shoes, discarding my well-worn and sweaty shirt on the arm of the couch before curling up in the cushions with my culinary treasures, and turned on the tv. Suddenly, all the exhaustion and stress slithered off of my shoulders as I got lost in the electric light, practically inhaling my food as the comfortable air conditioning soothed my hot, tired muscles.

Though nothing seemed to erase the memory of being on stage with Weston, or the way his lips turned up in a smile as he kissed me, sliding his tongue into my mouth.

Or the way he had commanded me to get on my knees, the way his words of praise made me feel.

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