15

Maximilian

She was checking me out.
Cadence Quiler was looking at me. I like it.
I like looking at her more, but I do that all the time. There aren’t many opportunities for me to catch Cadence staring at me.
Trying on suits is one of those times. I could stay in here all day and let her look at me.
I’ll reopen the curtain after I try this one on.
“How do I know Marco?” I circle back to her question as I pull on the hot pink shirt. Pink shirt, with tan pants and jacket. It’s not a colour I’d usually wear, but it is a beach wedding.
“We went to school together,” I tell her. “Uni, in Kingston.”
“Is that where you’re from?”
I hear the soft taps that tell me she’s on her phone. I should have left the curtain open. “No, Vancouver actually, but staying close to home was never part of the plan.”
“What was the plan?”
“Marco first. We were put together in residence. Four of us—me, Marco, Nick, who is another buddy of mine—and the most annoying human being on the face of the planet.”
A soft sound escapes her, almost like a laugh. “How bad could he be?”
“Did you ever watch Seinfield?”
“I might have watched a few episodes.”
“How could you not watch it? Best show ever.”
“If you say so.”
“I do say so. Anyway, this guy was a mash of Kramer with the hair and really tall and quirky, and George. Irritating, know-it-all, and balding. His name was Carl Kurtson.”
“How can he be balding and have Kramer hair?”
“Carl Kurtson had a lot of hair, thick and frizzy and a weird colour—except for the top of his head. His hairline had receded quite a bit, but he had all this hair at the back. I’m not one to make fun of a man’s hairline, because you don’t have any say in that, but he must have had a say in the rest of it. He smoked weed all the time, and this was before it was legal. He flunked out before Christmas and Dexter moved in.”
“Are you still close to the others? Nick and Dexter?”

“We are. They’re great guys; both guys are going to the wedding so you can meet them.”
The thought of introducing Cadence to my friends doesn’t strike a chord of terror like it usually does.
Maybe that’s because I know I’ll only have a weekend with her.
“Anyone else I should be prepped to meet?” she asks, all businesslike without a hint of nerves.

I wonder if it makes her nervous, or if she’s thinking the same as I am—this will only be for a weekend, so how bad can it be?
I’m not thinking it will be bad at all, but maybe she is.
I don’t normally chase women. They come to me, because of my charm, or sometimes my name. I’ve never not gone after what I wanted, but women are there for me to do the taking.
Cadence is different.
And maybe I’m simply being a man who is going after what he can’t have, a man who likes the chase because I feel like I’m racing after her, but she’s ahead by so many lengths it’s impossible for me to catch up.
I step out of the changing room and she stands to appraise me with a shake of her head. “You haven’t even given it a chance,” I protest.
“I don’t like it. You asked for my help, so I’m giving it. Don’t wear that.”
I’m impressed by her certainty. I’d probably buy it to have something different in my closet. Plus, my father would hate it. “All right, then. Maybe the third time is the charm.”
The next choice is pants in an odd blue-gray colour and with an off-white button-up and a thin jacket. I’m not sure, and when I step out for Cadence to see, she has a frown on her face. “I like the pants better than the other ones, but take off the jacket,” she orders.
“I’ll take off whatever you want, whenever you want.” I sling the jacket over my shoulder, holding it with one finger, and pose.
She surveys it with a frown.
Frowning can’t even take away from her beauty.
“Maybe the shirt…” she murmurs. Without any warning, she steps closer and pulls my shirt out of the waistband of the pants.
“We are in a public place, but I’m cool with it if you are,” I say in a husky voice.
She moves back. “Do other women appreciate your innuendos?” she asks.
“I… guess…”
“I don’t mean to sound rude, but the men I’m used to, when they say something like that, it’s not meant as a joke. They’re very direct.”
After that admission, Cadence won’t look at me until I take her chin and tip it up. “I think you need to find different men to be used to,” I say it softly but with a hint of Stone in my voice.
She holds my gaze for a moment before turning her head away. “I don’t have a lot of—”
“Time? I’m sensing a trend here. Aren’t you glad you’re taking some time off for this weekend? A spontaneous trip? There’s nothing better than that.” I smile until she turns back to me.
“I’m not good at spontaneous,” she confesses.
“I’m beginning to see that.”
We stand close enough to touch, but I don’t. I want nothing more than to run my hand up her arm and dive deep into that hair, but for all her poise and cool exterior, I get the sense Cadence is like a cat—unsocial and unpredictable, but there’s more chance to make her purr if you approach with caution and gentleness.
“I have a spontaneous idea for you,” I say in a low voice, studying the freckles on her nose.
Cadence is elegant. Sophisticated. Her cream-coloured pants and jacket scream no-nonsense; the red hair caught back in a sleek ponytail says practical.
I can’t wait to see her with her hair down. Or maybe up with the long tail wrapped around my fist.

And maybe her wearing just the jacket and those heels.
“What kind of idea?” she asks warily.
“The best kind where… you… let… me…” I draw it out, inching closer with every word. “Buy you a new dress for the wedding,” I finish in a whisper, only inches from that mouth.
She scoffs, face flushing. But at least she laughs.