Page 41 of No More Bad Boys
I know his mom still lives in Sparta—he told me that earlier, so the statement strikes me as strange. He’s never mentioned his father.
If anyone understands parental issues, I do. But even I visit my parents on a fairly regular basis.
Maybe guys are different. I remember Mitzy, the mother of Kenley’s ex-fiancé, talking about how she dreaded “losing” her son when they got married because that’s what inevitably happened when boys left home.
“Oh—this is a great song.” Blake hits the button to turn the radio up almost uncomfortably loud.
He might as well be wearing a neon sign that reads, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
I get the message, and I don’t push the subject. But it does worry me.
Once again, he’s being evasive, and I get the feeling he’s hiding things about himself, about his past.
The emotional closeness I’ve been feeling with him tonight has taken a hit. At the same time, I find myself craving a different kind of closeness more than ever.
I glance over at Blake, the wetness that’s darkened and curled his hair making him somehow even more appealing.
Heat pulses in my stomach like the flashing yellow caution light we’re driving under. Iwanthim to walk me upstairs. I want a goodnight kiss.
But how much more do I want?
Part of me immediately volunteers an answer—everything. Another part further north is still terrified to insert sex into this equation.
Just observing Blake’s easy, athletic way of walking and moving the past few days, remembering the skill and wow-factor of his kisses, it’s clear he’s some kind of sex aficionado.
The boy practically drips been-there-done-that.
And instead of growing more relaxed about the whole thing, I’m now even more stressed about my own lack of skills and my previous less-than-stellar sexual experiences.
It’s entirely possible the reason sex was so unpleasant before is… that I ambadat it.
When Blake finds out I’m some sort of sexual imbecile or a cold fish, his interest in me will evaporate.
And as Kenley so astutely observed before my first date with him, Icareabout this one.I’m starting to care more and more in fact, and I enjoy spending time with Blake too much to let it end now.
Of course, if I keep putting him off and pushing him away physically, it might end for another reason.
“Hey.”
Blake’s voice gets my attention. I realize I’ve been riding in silence, twisting my fingers together in my lap the way my troubled thoughts are twisting through my brain.
I look over at him.
“If you don’t want to invite me in, that’s totally okay, you know,” he says, referring to our wager from earlier.
He gives me a sweet smile. “I mean—I gave you the answer before you had a chance to make your three guesses, so our deal’s null and void. And it’s not like we’ve got a deadline here. I’ve rushed into enough things in my lifetime that I’ve learned when it’s worth it to wait.”
My body instantly relaxes. “I wasn’t worried about that.”
Blake’s teeth gleam whitely in the dark cab.
“Liar,” he whispers. “Why don’t you just talk to me, Cadence? Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Can I? Can I just admit my fears and get them out into the open? Would that help or will it just hasten the end of whatever’s going on between us?
No. I can’t. I suck at talking about feelings and stuff like that.
Even if I did feel comfortable enough with Blake to tell him everything, I’d probably say it all wrong and make things ten times worse. And here I was getting annoyed withhimfor being secretive.
