Lie to Me

  "What was that?" I hiss.

  God, he makes confrontation, something I usually hate, so bloody easy.

  "It's not a private party, Savannah."

  "I know that, but I've seen you press your lips together so that you won't react to him. Why would you want to spend more time with him? Unless it's because you know I don't want to."

  His eyes darken. "Oh, it's all about you, isn't it?"

  "I never said that."

  "Get over yourself, Savannah," he snaps. His voice is quiet, but there's no mistaking the malice.

  "Whatever," I mutter, shaking my head and turning away from him. I rub my forehead, relieving the tension.

  Is there something wrong with Kent to make him so back and forth? If there were, Heidi probably would have mentioned it, so Kent wouldn't seem so cold and, well, dead inside.

  "How long have you lived this way, Savannah? You're not from around here originally, are you?" Judy asks.

  I lick my lips. "About three years. I love it here. This city is quite small, but there's so much going on."

  Judy shakes her head. "Heidi and Kent love the city, too. We're just outside, where there's a hell of a lot more greenery."

  "Heidi said your place is amazing. Is it on a farm?"

  "Not quite. We just have a lot of land. No animals. I'm not an animal person. You must come next week for dinner."

  Beside me, Kent freezes.

  He doesn't want me to go, so against my better judgment, I find myself nodding. "I would really like that."

  To be honest, it is nice, spending more time with Heidi and her family, besides Kent. As long as her mum doesn't push, I'm more than happy to be alone less often.

  I'm not too ashamed to admit that I miss having people around. Not necessarily my family--they suck--but I've missed the family dynamic. It's nice to see even if it does make me long for it.

  Again, not the ones I was born to.

  "Great!" Judy claps her hands together. "Kent lives closer to you, so he can drive you."

  I grit my teeth and smile at her. I'm not going to get into it with her, but I'm definitely getting a taxi.

  "I don't know if I'm coming yet, Mum," Kent says.

  I bloody bet his sudden indecisiveness is a direct result of his mum inviting me.

  Arsehole.

  Judy's lips purse, and her eyes tighten. It's the look my mum used to give me and my sister when we did something wrong in public. It's the substitute-for-yelling look.

  Kent grinds his teeth but makes the intelligent decision not to bite back to his mum. It's a bit strange, seeing his interaction with his mum. Before I met her, I would never think there was a person in this world who could make him back down.

  She's great.

  After eating, we order more drinks, two each actually, and I sip my fifth--I think it's the fifth--cocktail as the atmosphere around me warms and turns kind of fluffy.

  Yes, everything is fluffy.

  Heidi is hilarious, more so after many of the fruity pink drinks like the one I have in my hand.

  Kent is sitting a bit closer than usual. He's angled his body toward me, and I can smell his aftershave. It's very nice, very manly, and kind of going to my head more than the alcohol.

  Brooke and Freddy are currently arguing over whether they should feed each other cake at their reception or not. Judy, Harrold, and Heidi get involved, but Kent and I stay out of it.

  "What would you do?" I ask Kent, tilting my head to the side.

  He shrugs. "Eat the cake."

  "Right! I personally don't see how anyone wouldn't want to be fed cake."

  Chuckling, he necks a long swig of beer, his forehead creasing, almost like he doesn't want to be laughing with me. We're getting on--at this particular second--and I don't know if I'm just paranoid, but it seems almost like he feels like we shouldn't.

  Or maybe I just need more to drink.

  "You don't look like you love cake."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  His eyes rake over my body, lingering on my breasts.

  Well, the cake isn't going to go to them!

  "Hey!" I snap, clicking my fingers in front of him.

  With a smirk, he looks up. "Apologies." He doesn't look sorry.

  "These are really good," I say, holding up my drink.

  "I can tell. How are you getting home?"

  "Uber."

  "You're going to Uber drunk?"

  "Yeah. Why not?"

  "You know that Uber is just people off the street, right? I could sign up," he says.

  "Yes, but you're not people off the street."

  He rolls his eyes. "My point, Savannah, is that someone could take advantage of you."

  "Someone could do that when I'm sober, too."

  "Okay, we'll Uber together and drop you off first."

  "Didn't you drive? You can't drive now. You've had a lot to drink."

  "I took a taxi. In fact, we'll take a taxi."

  I raise my eyebrows. "Yeah." I giggle. "I want to Uber. That's a funny word."

  "Definitely not going home alone," he mutters, shaking his head but grinning.

  I take another sip and smile. He smells good. And his eyes are nice; they're bluer today. I like them bluer. And greener.

  Work is hell. Drinking is hell. Well, the morning after drinking is hell.

  Staying after dinner to drink was a stupid idea. It's nine in the morning, but it feels like the middle of the night, like I should have at least another thirteen hours to sleep.

  This morning, I feel like I shouldn't have stayed out last night. What was I thinking?

  I used to be able to go out and drink way more than I did, and I would be fine. In the last few years, I've only had wine and gin occasionally in the evenings, so I've not been drunk.

  Jesus, I'm seriously out of practice because my head feels like someone has a mallet smashing around in there.

  Groaning, I rub my temples as Kent crashes around in the storeroom. He's doing it on purpose because both Heidi and I are dying. He can hold his drink.

  "I'm going to kill him," Heidi mutters, laying her head on her desk. She wraps her arms around her head and adds, "I'm going to get his drill and shove it through his chest."

  Okay, maybe I do hungover a little better than her.

  "He hasn't been this loud before, has he?" I ask just as Kent walks into the main studio.

  "Suffering, Savannah?" He looks up and sees Heidi. "Oh, come on, not you, too."

  "Go away," she mutters. "Better still, make coffee, and then go away."

  "Strong black coffee," I say.

  Kent rolls his beautiful turquoise eyes. With the grey on his top, his eyes are definitely leaning more toward blue today. "You two should be ashamed. You're in your twenties."

  "Savannah's worse. She's only twenty-two, and I'm twenty-eight."

  "You need more practice. Want to come out tomorrow night?" he asks.

  "No," Heidi and I reply simultaneously.

  My heart races at his offer, but right this second, I genuinely do not ever want to leave my apartment again. I wasn't at all prepared for a hangover. Sometimes, I've woken with a dry mouth and dull headache before but nothing like this. How do hungover-prone people do this every week?

  "You know you're doing your twenties wrong, don't you?"

  I lift my eyes to his, wincing as the bright spotlights above me burn my eyes. "How should we be doing it?"

  "You should be going out more than you're staying in."

  "Okay, so we're doing it wrong," I say, turning to Heidi. "Not that I care."

  "You're a real ray of sunshine, aren't you?" Kent says. His voice is light but holds a little tightness.

  It's hard to tell if he's teasing, but I think he is. Right now, I care even less than usual about what he thinks of me.

  "I'm hungover. There will be no sunshine today."

  He laughs. "You should change that."

  I can't say I don't agree with him. There is so much I should do,
so much work I have to do on myself so that I can be somewhat proud of the person I am, but I don't know where to start. Adding light to a shadow just makes it disappear.

  It's been hard enough, picking myself off the floor and building a new life from nothing, let alone holding on to the happy-go-lucky person I once was.

  "I agree; we should do it more often," Heidi replies. "But I need to recover first. I don't want to even think about alcohol for a couple of days." She stands up. "I should get to this meeting with the landlord. Fingers crossed, he doesn't raise the rent ... or I don't throw up in his face."

  She grabs her bag and heads out. Then, I'm alone with Kent.

  "Did you want that coffee?" he asks. "I'm making."

  What? "Er, yeah. Thanks."

  "Why are you surprised by that?"

  I clear my throat and get to my feet. "Well, you're hardly full of sunshine either."

  "I am a fucking delight," he replies.

  He tries to be serious, but his lips kick at the sides. It makes me smile, too.

  Laughing, I grab my empty mug from the desk. "Oh, yeah."

  Kent follows me around the wall into the kitchen area. I fill the kettle, and he grabs himself a mug from the cupboard. He seems to know his way around here, making himself at home.

  "So, what do you do? You know, when you're not building storage units for your sister."

  "Software," he replies, too busy messing around with coffee and sugar to give me more information than that.

  "Okay," I mutter. "Do you like what you do?"

  "Sure."

  I fold my arms and turn to him. "Do you think I should take my top off?"

  His hand freezes midair as he was about to pour a spoonful of coffee into my mug. Beautiful eyes peer over at me. "You think I wasn't listening?"

  "Well, you were only giving bored, one-worded replies."

  "You were asking boring questions."

  "Fine," I huff. "What age were you when you lost your virginity?" My eyes widen the second the words escape my lips. Did I actually ask that? What the hell business is it of mine how old he was when he first had sex?

  Kent's eyebrow lifts. "Much better, Savannah. I was fifteen. How old were you?"

  "Fifteen," I reply.

  I had been with Simon for eight months, and it was about two months before my sixteenth. We were going to wait, but ... well, things happened. At the time, I didn't regret it, but boy, do I now.

  "Really?" His voice picks up, portraying his surprise.

  "Yes, really."

  "Did you come?"

  "What the hell, Kent?" I gasp.

  Who asks that question? It's private, and the very fact that he asked shows how arrogant he is.

  Chuckling, he leans against the counter and crosses his arms. "We're asking interesting questions, remember? Not many women come the first time."

  "I don't think you understand the definition of interesting."

  "I do, and I also know it's subjective."

  Jesus, arguing with him is exhausting.

  "Did you come, Savannah?"

  My cheeks prickle with heat. "No," I admit. And I didn't come the next three thousand times we had sex either.

  Simon wasn't bad in bed. I always had a good time, but I needed a little more to get me off. I'm not sure why that's any of Kent's business though.

  "I would have made you come."

  Rolling my eyes, I drop my arms and pour water from the kettle into our mugs. "Of course you would have."

  "You disbelieve me?"

  "I so don't want to go down this road. It doesn't matter because, one, I can't get my virginity back, and, two, I'm not going to sleep with you."

  "Don't be so sure, sweetheart."

  "If you think the cocky thing impresses me, think again. Being an arrogant prick isn't the way to get into my pants."

  His smile grows. "What makes you think I want to get in your pants?"

  "You're not exactly subtle, Kent."

  "Neither are you."

  I put the kettle down. Staring at the steam rising from the mugs, I ask, "What does that mean?"

  "It means, you're not fooling me."

  I stir our coffee, my heart racing a hundred miles an hour. What does he mean by that? "I'm not trying to fool anyone."

  Kent doesn't respond. Seconds tick by as I stir the coffee for much longer than necessary. His silence only makes me more nervous.

  How much does he know about me? He can't know my whole story, or he would have definitely said something about it.

  From now on, I need to keep my distance from him.

  8

  Kent

  I step back and admire my handiwork. The cupboards and shelves are done. Two walls in this room are completely covered by storage. Heidi will barely be able to fill half of it, so hopefully, I won't have to come back anytime soon to put anything else together.

  I chuck the few tools I needed to do the job in my holdall and head into the studio.

  "Where's Heidi?" I ask Savannah.

  My sister was sitting down ten minutes ago when I went for a piss.

  Stormy grey eyes peek up at me over the top of an A4 piece of paper. I can see Heidi's sketch through the paper.

  "She's gone out for a lunch meeting. Do you need anything?"

  "Just to tell her I'm done."

  Savannah puts the sketch down and flicks her blonde hair out of her face. I'm sure it smells like coconut. "Great. That's so great."

  Yeah, I think so, too.

  The last couple of days, she's been keeping her distance while I've been here. At first, it pissed me off that I was being ignored, but then I realised it was for the best. I don't want her in my life either.

  I'll be fucking glad to see the back of Savannah Dean for a while. Well, until Wednesday when I have to pick her up for dinner at my parents' house. My damn mother would not let me out of it. No woman will ever tell me what to do--I'm always in control, the one in charge--but when it comes to my mum, I do what I'm fucking told.

  Hey, what can I say? I'm pretty sure the woman is either crazy or a witch.

  I tilt my head to the side. This morning, Savannah was wearing a dress, I'm sure. It was mid-thigh length; I definitely remember that. Now, she's wearing jeans and a black T-shirt.

  "Did you change?"

  "Huh?" She looks down. "Oh, yeah, I spilled my drink. You noticed that?"

  "I have eyes."

  She takes a deep breath through her teeth. "I'll let Heidi know you finished."

  Where's your dress? Did you get changed here?

  "I can wait for her."

  Were you naked merely meters away from me?

  "It might be a long meeting."

  I shrug one shoulder and let my bag drop to the floor. "I have time."

  Actually, I don't. It's one p.m. on a Friday, and by now, I'd be out with Max and Toby, lining up tonight's fuck. Instead, I'm waiting at my sister's work with the blonde whose naked body I cannot stop thinking about right now.

  If I spill something on her, will she have another outfit to change into?

  Savannah's mouth purses, and her grey eyes cloud like they're about to thunder. "Of course you do." She stands up. "Take a seat. I'll be in the storeroom."

  When she walks past me with her eyes on the ground, my chest clenches.

  Why do I turn into a bigger dickhead than usual around her?

  Closing my eyes, I tip my head back.

  Since she met Brooke, she's been more involved in my life, too. My mum loves her, both my sisters love her, and she's been invited to two family events in the space of a week.

  I can't have her as a permanent fixture in my life. She makes me angry and horny.

  Fuck Heidi, I need to get out.

  So, I leave without saying another word to Savannah.

  Wednesday rolls around way too fast. I have a whole evening with Savannah. It's been really nice these past four days that she's been out of my life. Yet, the whole time, I've been craving the way we snip
at each other.

  I need help.

  I cut my engine outside her building and look up. Apparently, she lives up on the first floor and faces out toward the road.

  Is she looking at me right now?

  Why I feel the need to get out and buzz her apartment, I don't know, but somehow, I find myself getting out of the car and walking toward the building. I stop at the front door, realising that Heidi told me what floor Savannah is on but not the number. Or she might have told me, and I just didn't listen.

  This is a great start.

  I'm about to call my sister when I see Savannah through the glass, walking down the stairs to ground level.

  Fuck me.

  Has she always looked like that?

  She's wearing a pair of dark blue skinny jeans and a grey off-the-shoulder shirt, but she looks sexier than any other woman I've ever seen in a little dress.

  Why don't I like her again?

  Her steely eyes, looking even more prominent with the colour of her top, warily eye me. Our last encounter wasn't exactly pleasant.

  She opens the door and smiles. "Hi, Kent."

  My back stiffens. "Savannah."

  "Are you sure you don't mind taking me tonight? I can Uber."

  And there it is. This is why she fucking bothers me so much. I feel like telling her to call a fucking Uber then. She always sounds so unsure of herself, like every tiny thing a person does for her is some massive inconvenience. Why?

  "It's fine," I spit.

  She folds her arms, carefully because her fractured arm hasn't healed. It does take away a little of the dramatic flair she was going for. "Do you need to take a nap before we go?"

  "What?"

  "You're cranky."

  "You're too polite."

  "Being polite is a bad thing?"

  I flex my jaw. "Yes."

  "Fine. Get in the car, and take me."

  The intent behind her words is clear; however, I hear it completely different and laugh.

  She rolls her eyes. "Don't be a knobhead, Kent. Take me to your parents' house, I mean."

  "Knobhead. I've not heard that one in a while."

  Savannah takes another long breath. "I really don't know why I thought accepting a lift from you would be a good idea. In fact, I didn't. I still think it's a bad idea."

  "You always follow through with bad ideas?"

  "Tonight, I am."

  Fuck yeah. I love this fighting side of her. It's like, when I rile her up enough, the cover slips, revealing the real Savannah. I'm not sure if she's hiding something the way Freya was.

  "You should work on that. I don't do anything I don't want to."

  She tilts her head to the side, fire and determination in her eyes. "Oh, you wanted me to come tonight? And you wanted to be the one to pick me up?"