"Don't call me that," I snapped.
The light flashed green and he drove, taking the freeway. "You are really bitter, you know that? I have no idea why your parents went with naming you Kandy. They should have named you Sourpuss instead."
"Whatever, asshole."
He glanced at me through the corner of his eye. "You feel good when you curse at me, don't you? Your dad would have a fit if he knew about your potty mouth," he chuckled, and the deep rumble of his laugh made my spine tingle, and not in a bad way. "What other names have you called me behind my back?"
"Jackass. Dipshit. Fucker. Asshat. Jerk-face—just to name a few."
"Amusing." By his tone, I figured he'd found it anything but. "You really know how to break a man's heart, Kandy Cane."
We were quiet again, only for a few seconds this time.
"I'm not mad about Kelly," I finally said. "It just caught me by surprise when she showed up. " I admitted.
"Why did it catch you by surprise? Am I not allowed to date anyone?"
I avoided looking at him. Would it have been selfish to say he couldn't date while I had a raging crush on him? Probably. "I can't tell you what to do."
"You can," he said, simply. Blatantly. "But it doesn't mean I'll listen."
"Exactly, so why should I even bother?"
He laughed. "Because you're Kandy Jennings. A feisty little shit who doesn't know how to hold her tongue."
I laughed at that, only a little. "Yeah, whatever." I ran the tip of my thumbnail over a cuticle. "She's not even your type."
"Oh, yeah? And what is my type, exactly?"
I thought on it, chewing on my bottom lip. "I don't know, but it's not her. You seem too...harsh for her. She's all proper and prim and chipper, and you're just...Quinton Cane. You need someone who can stand up to you when you're being illogical and unfair. After meeting Kelly, I highly doubt she's the kind of woman to do that."
"Harsh?" he repeated, seeming delighted. "You think I'm harsh?"
"I don't call you jackass for nothing."
He laughed, a smooth warm, rumble that made my body feel warm and gooey, despite the frosty air conditioning. His voice always did that. "You make me laugh, little one." He made a right turn. "Try working for me. Then you'll see what harsh really is."
"Are you kidding? I would never work for you."
His eyes twinkled with amusement when he looked at me. "Never say never."
We spent an hour and a half at a seafood restaurant in the heart of Atlanta. Cane told me to get whatever I wanted, so I went with the lobster and clam chowder. He ordered lobster as well, with a baked sweet potato.
"There's something I want to ask you," Cane said after taking a sip of his water.
"What?” I asked, digging into my house salad.
"Your mom was telling me there’s a guy you've been texting. She said you've been very secretive about him and not giving up too many details." Cane quirked an eyebrow. "Who is this mystery boy?"
I laughed. Why did he even care? "I don't think that's any of your business!"
There was a guy, but it wasn't that serious with him. His name was Carl Ridley, and he was a running back for my school. We would text here and there, kiss on the cheek when we saw one another in the hallways, but nothing more. His father was a pastor and his mom was the assistant pastor, so he refused to kiss on the lips until he actually loved a girl, but I didn't want love with him so I didn't mind it. He was nice and kind of funny.
"Does your dad know about him?" Cane asked.
"I doubt it. I'm sure he would have asked me more about him by now if he knew. I'm surprised Mom hasn't told him anything. She put me on birth control and everything because of it. I doubt I’d ever do anything with him though."
His eyes expanded a bit. "Birth control already? What the hell? That’s insane.”
“What’s so insane about it?” I laughed. “I’m eighteen, which is way past puberty. I should have gotten it long ago, don’t you think?”
He slightly shook his head. “It’s just crazy that you’re growing up so fast. I still remember when I first met you as the little girl with pigtails and rainbow socks, running away from me because of stranger-danger.”
I fought a smile. “Well, I’m not nine anymore.”
“I suppose not.” He shrugged. “Well, yeah, she told me about the guy you’re supposedly talking to when your dad wasn't around. She thinks I'm a good listener. Good at keeping secrets, too." He sat back in his chair, smirking while focused on me.
"What?" I asked, suddenly nervous. I dropped my gaze to my plate, but still felt him looking at me.