Wanting Mr. Cane

TEN

                 

KANDY

My father's recovery took a little over a month. He hopped around on crutches and attended rehab to strengthen his leg. Even though he asked me to fetch every little thing for him—and had even made me run to the store to get him a Snickers bar—I didn't mind doing it. I was just thankful he was alive.

During Dad's rehab, Cane only visited twice, and to my complete and utter satisfaction, Kelly wasn't with him during either.

The first time he came, he hung out with Dad in the basement that Dad liked to call his man cave. Little did he know that it wasn't, and that I spent more time down there than he did during the day.

I heard them talking about Dad's nasty gun wound (that he so often liked to flash to me and Mom, saying it was a battle scar) and they talked about Cane getting that big opportunity to open a factory in Canada.

All of this I could hear from the kitchen over my lonely dinner at the counter. Mom was working that night—another late shift as divorce attorney Mindy Jennings—and I'd taken Dad's heated-up lasagna down to the basement for him a few minutes prior to Cane's arrival.

I should have been bummed when Dad said he wanted to celebrate Cane's big promotion, but I wasn't. I heard talks about the beach and beer but I stopped eavesdropping when I heard Kelly's name.

I went upstairs before Cane came back, and wrote in my journal about my relentless infatuation with him, just like a girl with a crush would.

Only this wasn't just a crush anymore. This was my heart. My all. This was my love for him...the love he would never, ever understand.
***
The second time Cane came around, neither of my parents was home.  I was watching reruns of Breaking Bad when the doorbell rang.

I pushed off the sofa, sliding into my fuzzy pink slippers and shuffling to the door.

I expected it to be the UPS delivery guy, seeing as Mom had told me she was expecting a package and wanted me to be on be on the lookout for it.

I didn't think to check the peephole. I just opened the door and I instantly regretted answering the door, wearing pink slippers and sweat pants, because standing on the other side of it was Quinton Cane.

He wore a sky-blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his beautiful inky arms on display. His hair had been trimmed and was gelled in the usual modern-casual style.

His gray-green eyes landed on mine and as if he weren't expecting me to answer the door, he blinked rapidly and straightened his back, standing taller.

"Oh, hey, Kandy," he said, and his voice did the same thing it always did to me. Hypnotized me. Made me weak in the knees.

"Hey, Cane," I breathed, tucking my hair behind my ear. "W-what are you doing here?"

"Uh..." Cane looked back at the driveway, like he was waiting for someone to arrive. "Your dad told me to come by at five to pick him up for the Miami Heat game tonight..."

"Oh." I glanced over my shoulder. "He had rehab today. Mom took him this time since she was free. They're probably just running a little late." I fidgeted on my feet. I knew I was going to have to invite him in, but that meant I would be alone with him. Again.

"I'll call Mom and see where they are." I turned but left the door open, leaving it up to him to either come in, to go back to his car, take a smoke, or do whatever he needed to do as long as it meant we weren't alone in the same room together again.

And of course, he came in. My heart was delighted, but my brain was wracking with anxiety. I went to the sofa and picked up my cellphone, sending Mom a quick text. She replied almost immediately, and when I read over the message, I let out a sigh.

"What's up?" Cane asked, and I peered up. He was already looking at me, but his eyes dropped to my phone.

"Oh, uh...she said they just left the hospital but have to stop by the pharmacy. They need to pick up a prescription."

"Oh, okay." Cane looked around and then his eyes landed on the T.V. "I guess I'll wait here and watch Breaking Bad reruns with you then." He smiled in my direction, taking the single recliner behind him. The single recliner, so he wouldn't have to sit next to me...at least that's how I saw it.

"Do you want anything to drink or anything?" I asked, and he shook his head.

"I'm good, Kandy Cane."

I sat down, slightly rolling my eyes. He knew how I felt about that name, yet he still called me it. Even after what happened. Even after knowing how into him I was.

I tucked my feet under my butt and stared at the T.V. but I wasn't really watching it. Cane was a few steps away, but it seemed he was right next to me. I could smell his cologne—hear him breathing. I glanced over at him, unable to stop myself, and he was watching the T.V. in almost a boyish way. His face was relaxed, eyes wide, like he was amazed by what was going on—like he hadn't watched T.V. in years.

His legs were spread apart, and my eyes landed on the bulge between them. I could see the print of his manhood—thick and long. From this angle, it looked delicious, the way it rested on the inside of his thigh.

I fidgeted then, finding it completely and utterly impossible to remain still and comfortable in the same room as him by myself. I kept thinking about that night. That godawful, beautiful, terrifying, yet euphoric night. I sucked in a breath.

Cane looked up, as if he felt me looking, and his eyes landed on me. I jerked my head up, but was sure he'd caught me looking.

His lips pressed thin and he scanned me with his eyes in that same ravenous way he did when no one else was looking. Like he wanted to devour me right where I sat.

"Do you plan on going to the beach with us next month?" I asked, looking down at my cellphone.

"I do, actually. Figure I could use the vacation. Haven't taken one in years."

"Years?" I frowned.

"Yes, Kandy. Years. I've been working so hard to build Tempt that I haven't actually gotten around to scheduling one. But since Derek and Mindy are putting it together and things are going pretty well, I figured why now?"

"Oh. Cool." I focused on the T.V., pretending Jessie calling someone a bitch was more important. "You bringing Kelly?"

I avoided his eyes but felt him staring a hole into the side of my head. "Do you want me to bring her?"

"No!" I blurted, and then immediately clamped my mouth shut, realizing how pathetic and stupid I sounded. His eyes widened, like he was surprised by my sudden outburst.

"You really don't like her, huh?" he chuckled lightly, and I pulled my legs from beneath me, placing my feet on the floor and sitting up straight.

"I never said I don't like her." I chewed on my bottom lip and he watched me do it. "I just...think she's in the way."

"In the way of what?" he asked with a slight frown, like he honestly had no clue. How great of him to play dumb when he knew my feelings—knew about my crush. Knew what I wanted him to do to my body.

I swallowed hard, placing my phone beside me on the sofa and then standing up. Cane watched me stand, his eyes narrowed now.

I knew what I was about to do was going to piss him off. I knew it was going to make him frustrated and annoyed, but what I also knew was that he was going to react to it.

He would get hard.

It would turn him on.

He would tell me to stop, but his body would be screaming for me to keep going.

I don't know why I always felt so bold and confident around Cane, yet still so little and meaningless. I always felt like I had to prove something to him. These chances at being alone with him didn't come often, and something in the back of my head was telling me to take advantage of it.

So I did.

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