One Funeral (No Weddings #2)(38)
And the surprise revelation we discovered was that I wasn’t hurt any longer. As it turned out, beneath the protective anxiety about putting myself out there was a healthy layer of pissed-the-f*ck-off. I had a lot of anger I’d needed to vent: about how my ex hadn’t had the courage to remain together and work out whatever issues he had, or the honesty to tell me his feelings to my face; about how my mother rejected me without effort or explanation.
“Are you worried about Cade’s loyalty or the list?”
“No. I’m not concerned.” I finally looked up at Abigail, straightening in the chair and accidentally dumping my tissue stack off my lap. “His actions have made it clear, even with the greatest temptation prancing all around us, that he only wants me. And he’s begun to show more affection toward me in front of others. He promised he would work on showing that he cares about me to his friends and to his sisters.”
“And you trust him?”
I smiled. “I do.”
Leaning back, she pulled the notepad on her desk forward and jotted down a couple of notes. “The apprehension you have in advancing your relationship is normal. We all have to take the risk and trust that the reward is worth it.”
I took a steadying breath. “What should I do now? How will I know when to take the next step or make a move?”
She stood, crossing the room, giving me a hug. “Don’t worry about the little things. They’ll take care of themselves. Just believe and let go.”
I hugged her back. Then I knelt on the floor, scraping up the mess I’d made.
“Leave it.” Her strong hand rested on my shoulder. “You’re not the first person to leave a pile of tissues on my floor. At least yours aren’t snot-filled clumps.”
“Uck!” I burst out laughing and stood, suddenly feeling for the kind therapist.
“It’s up to you, Hannah, if you want to see me again. It sounds like you’ve got a great handle on things. Do you want to leave the calendar open and call if you want to schedule another session?”
I nodded. I did feel stronger, like I had a great foundation and a clear sense of direction. “That sounds like a great plan.”
As we walked together down her hallway for the last time, I turned to her.
“Is Cade still seeing you?” The entire situation felt odd—standing in a sterile hallway to part ways with someone who knew intimate details about my life. I’d made a valuable friend in her that I likely wouldn’t be seeing again, because I no longer needed her.
With a smile, she gave me a sideways hug, diffusing some of the awkwardness. “You’ll have to ask Cade.”
Saturday night was event planning at Kristen’s. There was only a slight chill in the air—it was unseasonably warm for this time of year—so we decided to do our strategizing out on her patio.
Deep seating chairs and a couch in a terracotta color surrounded a large fire pit. Orange flames danced over dry logs that Cade had retrieved from her shed. Stuffed full from Kristen’s surprise homemade dinner of Cornish game hens, baked sweet potatoes, and mixed greens salads, we sat in lazy silence, nursing our beers.
I listened to the fire crackle and snap, mesmerized by the patterns the flames made.
“Comfortable?”
I glanced up at Cade, smiling. We sat beside one another on the two-person couch, each on our own cushion, but our thighs touched across the seam. “I am.” I looked over at the others, but his sisters were in a heated debate over the theme of our next function and paid zero attention to us. “Hey, are you still seeing Abigail?”
He shook his head. “She cast me out into the world last week. Why?”
I furrowed my brow. “Why didn’t you tell me? Are we keeping things from each other now?”
Crossing his arms, he gave me a stern look. “No. We were traveling down our own paths there, and I didn’t want my situation to influence yours. I’m going to ask again: why?”
“I got my seal of approval this week too. See? No secrets here.” I stared at him, fighting a smile.
His eyes narrowed for a split second before a myriad of emotions flickered across his face: surprise, relief, excitement. Leaning forward, his eyes glittered with lust. “Prepare yourself, Maestro.”
I leaned back, inhaling a breath, feeling very much in the presence of a hunter again. Sparks of heat licked between my thighs at the realization. “For what?”
“To take things to the next level.”
I swallowed hard, unable to catch my breath or think coherently. “When will that happen?”
“Cade! Hannah! You two listening? It’s at Christian’s house, and we’re good with that. Saturday—lawn party starting at noon.”
We glanced across the fire to the threesome staring at us as we leaned further apart, back to our own cushions. Cade cleared his throat. “Sorry, guys. We were discussing the cake.” He smirked, then mumbled under his breath, “Or rather, the icing on it.”
“Cade!” My whispered reprimand fell on ignoring ears as he dragged me down the grassy hill toward the water. “You’re insane. Let me go!” I tugged my hand back, but his fingers were locked with mine in a viselike grip.
He simply laughed, determined for us to have rebellious fun. Christian Thomas’s party was in full swing on the lawn behind us. But in true Cade Michaelson style, more adventures were to be had behind the scenes, away from prying eyes and stifling filters. And with all but one of his finals taken, he’d become a new man again.