Perfect Lie (8 page)

I glared back at him and stuck out my tongue as I bent my knees and tossed the ball toward the basket. It bounced off the backboard and fell to the floor. Brock laughed so hard that he was clutching his stomach.

“Never mind, Ms. Deb. She sucks anyway.”

Ms. Deb shook her head as she wrote on a clipboard she held in her hand. “Don’t use that kind of language, Mr. Ryan.”

“Sorry, Ms. Deb,” he replied sarcastically, and I giggled as I chased after the ball.

The headphones were pulled from my ears, and I jumped, pushing up onto my elbows, as the storm in Brock’s eyes was replaced with calm waters. “What are you doing in here?” I asked, as Abel took a step back.

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I was looking for the bathroom. I thought you were sleeping, but you smiled, and I noticed the headphones.” He ran his hand through his messy hair. “What are you listening to?”

“Your lame excuses.” I rolled my eyes as I pulled my headphones off completely, and the dimples in his cheeks deepened.

He took another step back toward my door but stopped and turned back to me. “Thank you for dinner. It was great. I can’t remember the last time I had a home‐cooked meal.”

I searched his face for sarcasm, but he was being sincere, and for a moment, I saw what looked like sadness in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it had come.

“You’re welcome,” I said, as he disappeared into the hallway. I put my headphones back on and replayed the song, but I didn’t close my eyes. I could only take the memories of Brock in small doses without breaking down. I tried to focus on the good—his touch, the sound of his voice—but every part of my life back then was laced with the bad. I’d reached my limit for the day. I took off the headphones and tossed them onto my pillow, not sure what I would do with the rest of my night. It was Saturday, and that usually meant we’d be off at a bar or club somewhere. I hoped everyone would leave soon, and maybe I could relax with a good book.

I pushed myself up from the bed and made my way to the bathroom. As I opened the door, Abel turned toward the shower and zipped up his pants.

“Jesus! Shit! I’m so sorry.” I yanked the door to close it, but he grabbed hold and pulled it wide open.

“Wow. Was it
that
disappointing?” He laughed, and my face burned with embarrassment.

“I didn’t see anything.” I was mortified.

“You really know how to hurt a man’s ego.”

“I didn’t know you were in here.” I couldn’t look him in the eye, so I stared at the way his shirt stretched across his chest muscles, which only made me blush deeper.

“I just told you a minute ago.” His eyebrow cocked, and I couldn’t help scowl at him.

“Maybe I was ignoring you,” I said. “It’s hard not to block out your ramblings.”

His head tilted to the side, and his fingers came under my chin to force me to look up at his face. “Lie.”

“What?” I said, when he didn’t continue after saying my name.

“
That
is a lie. You couldn’t ignore me if you tried.” He winked and walked around me before I could come up with a witty comeback. What an asshole.

I went into the bathroom and closed the door a little harder than necessary. I glanced into the mirror over the sink, and sure enough, my cheeks were tinted pink.

I splashed cold water on my face and forced myself to leave the safety of the bathroom. I headed to the living room to grab my Kindle, ignoring everyone.

“Lie, we’re gonna go out for drinks,” Trish called from the couch.

“Have fun.” I began to walk out of the room as she giggled.

“No.
We
are going out for drinks. Get dressed.”

I stopped walking and turned back to look at her. “I
am
dressed.” I had on my favorite pair of torn‐up jeans and a tank top. That was as dressed up as I felt like getting, but I knew by Trish’s expression that she wasn’t going to drop it. Heaven forbid I go out dressed like a normal person and embarrass her.

“Fine. Whatever. I’ll change.” I left before she could add any advice regarding what I should wear and went to my room. I stared at my closet, fighting back the urge to pull out my keepsake box. Instead I grabbed the first thing my fingers landed on, a thin gray dress that came up to my midthigh with a thick black belt around the waist. The color matched my contact lenses; I hated my plain‐Jane brown eyes. I grabbed a pair of black strappy sandals and quickly discarded my old clothes and threw on my dress. I left my hair down and ran my hands through it to detangle it.

I stepped back out of my room only to find the three guys on the couch. Trish had gone to primp, and I knew we may have to wait an hour until she came back.

“Can I smoke in here?” Abel asked, and I shook my head. He pushed up from his seat and walked toward me. “Show me where?”

“Sure.” I took him to the back of the kitchen, where our fire escape was. You could crawl out the oversize window to the landing. I spent a lot of time out there when I read or just to get some fresh air and sunshine. I wobbled on my heels as I climbed through the opening, and Abel grabbed my hips from behind to steady me.

“Sorry,” he said, as he climbed out next to me, standing entirely too close to me on the tiny platform. I could tell from his playful expression he wasn’t the least bit regretful.

He pulled a cigarette from his pack and held it out to me. I took it even though I usually only smoked if I was partying. He held a lighter to my face, and I inhaled as he lit it, his eyes locked on mine; he looked like he was deep in thought.

“What?” I asked, as I blew out a puff of smoke. He took the cigarette from me to take a drag instead of lighting his own.

“You don’t really like Trish.”

It wasn’t a question, but I felt the need to defend my friendship. Yes, we were an odd pairing, but she helped me move past the person I was by allowing me into her life, and I wasn’t a bully and wouldn’t bad‐mouth her to the boy she liked.

“I like her. We’re friends.” I shrugged and took the cigarette back. His eyes were trained on my lips as I inhaled. I hated his confidence and the arrogant way he spoke, but something under the sarcastic remarks kept me interested in who he really was.

“Friendship goes both ways,” Abel said.

“Are those guys your
real
friends?”

He shook his head, his hand dragging through his messy hair. “They were there for me when I needed someone.”

“And now? You don’t need anyone? So…what? You just cast them aside?”

“I didn’t say that.” Just like that, the serious conversation had ended, and the flirty mask he wore was back in place.

“Why did you leave California?” I took another drag, but he grabbed the cigarette as it was at my lips.

“You ask a lot of questions. That’s how I know you aren’t like her. Do you think Trish gives a shit about where I came from?”

“Whatever. It’s impossible to have a normal conversation with anyone here.” I was exasperated. I moved toward the window, but he stepped to the side to block it.

I groaned but looked at him, waiting for a sarcastic retort. “You look nice,” he said. I narrowed my eyes, but the punch line didn’t come. Instead he leaned closer, his smoky mint breath on my cheek. “You looked just as sexy in those jeans.”

My eyes met his, and I thought I was hallucinating, but his face was serious, and I immediately averted my eyes to the window. I pushed around him, and he moved out of my way as I slid it back open. As I climbed through, I couldn’t resist throwing a jab at him. “Just not good enough to kiss, right?” I slid the window closed behind me before he could respond.

Trish was ready to go and waiting in the living room for us. A few minutes after I came in, Abel followed, and the popular‐asshole persona was firmly in place.

“Let’s go party,” he called out, and his friends cheered and shoved each other toward the front door. I rolled my eyes but followed behind because that was what I did. I was always the extra wheel.

We made our way downstairs, and out front was a sleek, black Barracuda. Classic cars had a spot in my heart because that was all Brock ever talked about getting.

“We’ll take my car,” Abel said, as he pulled open his door.

“Much better than that rusty old truck,” I said under my breath.

“There you go. Now you sound
just
like her,” Abel replied just as quietly.

Trish made her way to the passenger side and slid into the seat. I waited for the other guys to climb into the back from the driver’s side. As I prepared to follow, Abel slid the seat back and motioned for me to sit in the center of the front bench seat. “I can’t let you sit back there with those fucking pervs. Your boyfriend would kill me.”

I ignored his comment about Brock and slid across next to Trish. She looked less than pleased that she wouldn’t be cuddling against Abel. I was the last person she should direct her frustration at. I didn’t want to sit next to Abel any more than she didn’t want me to, and it wasn’t my fault she ran with such a shady group.

Trish leaned around me to look at him as we pulled into traffic. “You think you could hook us up before we get there?”

I glanced at Abel, who was working his jaw as he stared ahead at the road. “Glove box.” He took a quick glance at me, and I looked at the glove box as Trish opened it and pulled out a bottle of pills. I looked back at Abel, who gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

“Liar, liar,” I said under my breath. I saw his head turn fraction of an inch toward me before he reached out to turn up the stereo and drown out any talk with classic rock music.

Trish pulled money from her wristlet and held it out to me. I grabbed it angrily and held it out to Abel. His fingers wrapped around mine and squeezed.

“It’s on the house,” he said, and his fingers slid from mine, leaving me holding the cash as Trish handed out pills to the guys in the backseat.

“Tonight is going to be epic, boys.” She laughed as she popped a pill into her mouth and held one out for me. “Don’t be such a baby.”

I felt Abel’s gaze burn my skin, and I held out my palm. He thought he was so smart. Everything he said was a lie, and he wanted to call me out? I popped the small pill into my mouth and swallowed. Trish let out a gleeful yell as Abel stepped on the gas and we flew down the highway.

Chapter Six

Party Hard

Domino was packed, and the strobe lights made the room feel as if it were tilted to the side. I giggled as I tried to navigate through the crowd on the dance floor. We barely could fit through the endless sea of bodies to get inside, but I didn’t care. I felt weightless, free from the memories that plagued me. The lights flickered in a thousand different colors, and it was like slipping inside a rainbow.

Abel gripped my elbow uncomfortably as he helped guide me through the mass of people. Trish had her arms wrapped around his waist behind me, and I was desperate to disappear from them.

“I need to dance,” Trish said from behind me, and I felt Abel’s fingers release from my skin. I kept moving through the crowd, needing to blend in, like I’d done so many times before.

I had no idea what I’d taken, but it was making me feel like I was on a cloud. I wasn’t a druggy, but in this world you have to be willing to adapt and overcome. I was adapting. For a moment I’d thought I’d seen something I could relate to in this stranger. Just as quickly it was all ripped away, and I knew he was no different from Trish, no different from the bullies who had spent years tormenting me.

I could be that way too; I could not care about anyone. So I set out on my mission to be one of the crowd. My skin tingled and ached as people rubbed against me as they danced. Soon I began to move with the steady, thumping pulse of the music, and my heartbeat took on the rhythm of the song. My body became languid, and I swayed slowly as the earth shifted with me under my feet.

Hands gripped my hips, ran over my arms, and trailed down my thighs, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. The affection I had craved was amplified in a tiny pill that made me feel like I was finally living, not just surviving. The fabric of my dress slid against my skin, and goose bumps followed. Hot breath tickled my neck, and beads of sweat were like tiny tongues flickering over my body. Time passed by on a plane of its own.

Seconds.

Minutes.

Hours.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

My skin grew hot under every fingertip, leaving trails of tingles and burns in their wake. I closed my eyes and moved with the flow of the body that was pressed against my back. I hadn’t felt so much love pulsing through my veins since I’d been with Brock. Who knew love could be manufactured and bought and paid for?

The heat increased until I felt my strength slowly dissipate, and I was limp in my dance partner’s arms, a puppet to his movements.

“You done?” a voice called sharply in my ear, and I glanced up to see Abel, anger in his eyes.

“Just getting started.”

“I think it’s time to go.”

“Why? You got some more drugs to sell?”

He pulled me out of the stranger’s arms. I stumble‐stepped toward him, and my hands fell against his hard chest. My fingers slid over his button‐down shirt, loving the feel of the silky fabric.

“Keep your voice down!” His tone was angry, and it made me pull back, but my balance was unsteady. Fortunately he kept his firm grip on my arm so I wouldn’t fall over.

“Look who the liar is now,” I teased with a half grin. I hated people like him, people like Trish, people like those in high school.

“I didn’t lie.” His cheek was against mine, and his breath blew over my ear. I closed my eyes, loving the silky softness of his flesh; the deep, soothing tone of his voice. “I thought you weren’t like her.”

My eyes snapped open at the anger in his tone, and I pulled back to look at him. “Like what? One of your customers? One of your friends? The liar is a hypocrite now.”

“I’m taking you home.”

I pulled back from him, but he refused to let go. “I don’t want to leave, and I can’t just leave Trish here. Some of us care about our friends.”