Chapter 4: Flirty Trouble

"What's your name?" he asks, smirking back at me.

"Cade. Yours?"

"James. Nice to meet you, Cade. Hot name," he comments. We begin chatting about what's bringing us to Michigan. He lives here but he goes to college at Michigan State. I told him about my estranged father but nothing too personal. This is only harmless flirting. The flight won't be too long, and then I'll never see him again. He seems like one of those jerk frat boys who flirts with every girl in sight. He's like the guys back at home, the jocks who I sometimes messed around with. I never had anything too serious, knowing that they would likely leave me. This guy looks as though he just wants to mess around, and I'm fine with that for now, on this plane.

I clutch to the armrests as the plane jolts and he chuckles, taking my hand and squeezing it to reassure me.

"First time flying?" he asks.

"I was trying not to make that obvious. I guess I failed," I reply, keeping my hand in his and staring at him. I bite my lip and his eyes flicker down to them. He leans in, a hand cupping my cheek as he places his lips on mine. I pull back and raise my eyebrows at him. "I just met you and you're kissing me?" I question with a smirk. He smiles back, sighing and rolling his eyes.

"You had something on your lips. I was just helping you out," he says nonchalantly.

"I'm sure. Bet you'd love helping me out." He smirks and stares at me. "Night flights are so annoying. I don't like sleeping in my bra," I comment and his smirk grows to a grin.

"I like you, you're crazy," he laughs.

"So they say," I respond. "Tell me, do you have a girlfriend?"

"Would I be kissing you if I did?"

"I don't know. I don't have you pegged yet," I say, raising my eyebrows.

"No? I have a feeling you're a very hard one to see through. I'm an open book."

"Really?" I ask.

"This is the captain speaking. We will be landing in thirty minutes. The seat belt sign is turned on. We are beginning our descent. Time of arrival, four am Sunday."

We converse for the rest of the way, him noticing my anxiety over the rough descent and the sudden drops in altitude. With his flirts and kisses, he manages to distract me all up to the landing. We follow each other to baggage claim, messing around playfully.

"Cade, it's an interesting name. From something longer?"

"Cadence," I reply distastefully. "I hate the name. It's pretentious and sounds elegant. I'm not that. I'm not Cadence."

"You do suit Cade. But you could do elegant. Flirty and elegant," he teases, tugging my hand towards him and wrapping his arms around my waist.

"I just met you."

"And I just met you. Your point?" he asks as he picks his case off the conveyor belt.

"You don't know me." I spot my bag but he generously hauls it off for me, setting it down by his.

"I want to know you." A ding rings through my ears, the source from my phone. My father has texted me that he's waiting for me outside the airport. I bid goodbye to James, thanking him for entertaining me on the plane ride here, and also taking my mind off the fact that it was my first time flying.

I head outside to the point where he would meet me and I catch sight of a familiar looking man, dressed in a dapper suit, his head in his phone. His features look nothing like mine, asides from his nose, small button-like. His brown hair is short and ordered on his head and his eyes are green, a dull watery green. He wears a concentrating agitated look as he stands there and I just watch him, leaning against the wall, waiting for him to notice me. It's been eight years, he can wait five more minutes. As the time passes, he grows more frustrated and I let out a small audible chuckle. His head snaps up and he searches around. Fucking hell, this man. He can't even recognize me.

"It would be a good idea to know what your own daughter looks like," I comment, steering his eyes towards me as I stalk closer to him.

"Cadence, wow, you look..." he trails off, his eyes widen as he stares at me.

"Older. That might be due to the fact you haven't seen me in eight years. Funnily enough, I look older. And my name is Cade," I correct bitterly, huffing.

"Cade? Okay, let's go," he orders in a demanding tone and I roll my eyes, flipping him off although he can't see it. He leads me to his car, a flashy sports car that screams attention-seeking and arrogant. I won't like this man. I already hate him more than I did.

"Cade?" a voice calls out and I turn back to see James jogging over to me with a handsome smirk. "I almost forgot." He reaches out for my hand and places a piece of paper inside. "My number. Call me?" He backs away with a knowing smirk until he's out of sight.

I slide into the passenger side and he pulls out without even glancing over to me. I put my seat belt on whilst we're on the road, not having time to do it before.

"So..." he begins, attempting to break the awkward silence that would always be inevitable. "What's your favorite color?" I scoff, rolling my eyes at the pathetic question.

"Grey," I answer curtly, gazing out the window.

"Why?"

"I need a fucking reason for liking a color," I snap harshly.

"Look at me," he demands and I look over to him, cocking my head to the side at his tone. "I don't like attitudes like yours. You're staying with me now. Your mother may have allowed you to talk to her like that, but you won't use that tone with me."

"Or what?" I challenge. It makes him gulp, observing the fact that his dominating tone had no effect on me at all.

"You're staying with me, you're attending my school, there are plenty of punishments that I could give you," he threatens.

"Yet none could hurt more than the fact that my father left me and built a whole other life, completely forgetting about me," I snark, scoffing again. Silence plagues the car. I can tell he's contemplating his next words, knowing that I have every right to be pissed with him.

"Who was that boy?"

"I sat next to him on the plane," I respond nonchalantly.

"So he gave you his number?" he asks skeptically. "I know the looks he was giving you."

"What looks?" I query, rolling my eyes at his concerned parent act. I can't talk to boys? I had this talk with Roland a few years ago, when I started dating guys. Of course, three or four years ago, I was just dating, nothing more. And then I got more serious boyfriends in my freshman and sophomore year of high school. Serious doesn't mean committed though, but they were good fun. They were players anyway, but I didn't mind.

"Like he wanted something more than... friendship," he answers woodenly. He doesn't know how to talk to me, but he's still being protective, possessive.

"I might like something more than friendship with him," I tease, hiding my laughs at his stiffness.

"I didn't realize... um... I didn't really... You're attending an all boys school. You'll be boarding there too. I didn't think you'd... be so..." he stammers at every line, not really knowing how to phrase what he means, but I already knows. He thinks I'm trouble and with a school full of horny teenage boys and me being the only girl, he doesn't want me sleeping with them. I don't sleep around. I kiss and flirt but sleeping with someone, I'm serious about it. I actually have to like the guy, and be more than attracted to sleep with someone. Michael probably thinks I'm a slut. "Pretty. You're very pretty, and grown up." Grown up, code for my big boobs and big *** with thin waist. I've grown into an adult body, something he couldn't imagine because he hasn't seen me in eight years. He probably didn't even think about the problem of sticking the eight year old he remembers in his school, but me, I create problems.

"Thanks." Before I can say anything else snarky, my phone rings, vibrating on my lap. I glance at it to find it's Roland and I now remember I was meant to call him when I landed. I answer it, ignoring Michael as he glimpses over at me.

"Cade, you lose the ability to use your phone? I know that would be the end of the world for you," he jokes. I suddenly realize how much I feel comfort from the sound of his voice.

"I just forgot. Sorry."

"How was the flight? I know it was your first time flying. It can be quite scary," he says.

"Well, it was a bit, but I was sitting next to a guy and he took my mind off it." I can feel him rolling his eyes through the phone.

"Who are you talking to?" Michael questions, attempting a fatherly tone.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***